Sleight (21 page)

I JUMPED OUT of my chair and vaulted the low patio fence. Behind me Sawyer yelled something that I’m sure was supposed to slow me down. Not looking back I ran across the street and reached the entrance seconds after they entered the building. Grasping a door handle I wrenched it open and started to walk inside when a uniformed doorman stepped forward and raised a hand to stop me.

“Excuse me sir,” he said, giving me a hard look that poorly concealed his opinion of my attire and presence in his domain. “Are you a guest of one of the residents?”

Looking over his shoulder I could see the retreating back of the gangster who was practically dragging Justine toward an elevator.

Thinking fast I said, “My sister.” I pointed ahead at Justine’s retreating form. “She’s sick. I was parking the car.”

He looked at me suspiciously as Sawyer arrived.

“Is she okay?” he asked, breathlessly.

I decided to play off what he’d said. “No! Uncle Chuck had to practically carry her in here!”

“Well let’s catch up before...Chuck grabs the elevator.”

The doorman wasn’t having any of it. “Gentlemen. If you wait here I’ll phone the resident and verify your relationship. Who are you claiming to know?” He looked down his nose at Sawyer’s beanie and corduroy pants.

Stepping up close to the doorman Sawyer looked at me and said, “Phil, catch up to them and I’ll stay here with Mr. I-don’t-care-about-anyone-but-myself.”

It took me one second to realize I was ‘Phil’. I dodged past the doorman and hustled to catch Justine and the man.

“Sir! I mus—tuh—urk!” I looked back to see Sawyer with his shoulder under one of the doorman’s arms, barely able to keep him from falling down. His confident handling of the doorman seemed out of character, but I was moving too fast to take the time to think much of it.

By the time I got to the elevators Justine and Silver the hitman had already taken one. I watched the numbers above it to see which floor it had stopped at: twenty, the top floor. Sonja’s arrogance seemed to be running true to form. Glancing back I saw Sawyer lug the unconscious doorman into a corner and then race up to me. He came to a sliding stop on the polished marble floor. Our good fortune that the lobby was deserted seemed too good to be true.

“Did you get a floor number?” He gasped.

“Yeah, twenty, but we’re stuck.” I pointed at a digital card reader next to the elevators. “I can’t knack digital locks.”

Without any hesitation he placed a hand on the reader. White electrical current pulsed over his hand and the reader. The call button for the elevator glowed green and the doors opened. I dug into my pocket and yanked out my phone.

“What are you doing?” Sawyer asked as we stepped into the elevator. He punched the button for the twentieth floor, and the elevator door closed. The car started smoothly ascending.

“I’m texting Kenwoode. We might need help and if anything happens to us I want someone to know where we are.” I started typing out a text.

“Wait, wait. Don’t do it yet. Let’s see if we can do this ourselves,” he pleaded.

I paused. I didn’t see how it could hurt to send the text. “Why? This is a big deal Sawyer. It could get out of hand really fast and then we might not have the time to call for help.”

“Just wait. I talked you into this. I don’t want to piss off Mr. K. or hear any crap from Brock.”

The doors slid open and I looked down at my phone. No signal. I punched the text anyway. “Sorry man. We could be in trouble. You’re gonna have to be okay with me sending this.”

Frowning and sighing he followed me into the hall. It was wide and long with only three doors opening onto it. Two on each side with the third facing us from the far end.

“Where do we start? We can’t just knock,” Sawyer said.

Thinking about Sonja’s need for being on top of everything I pointed at the single door at the end of the high-ceilinged hall. “There. That’s her. That’s her style for sure.”

He nodded. “Okay. What’s our play?”

That made me hesitate. Good question. We couldn’t walk in there blazing away, especially since we didn’t have any weapons. At least not conventional weapons. I had my knacks, and my stun gun was tucked into its holster under my jacket.

“You hang out here in the hall, and keep watch. I’ll go inside and try to figure out where she’s being held. Then I’ll come back to get you and we’ll work it together,” I said.

He looked at me questioningly. “Not that I’m afraid to camp out here in the hall, but what makes you the right choice to scope out the inside?”

By way of answering I invoked my camouflage knack. Sawyer’s reaction was predictable, and more than a little satisfying.

He shook his head. “Unbelievable. Is there anything else you can do? Okay that makes you the lead on recon for sure.” He looked over his shoulder toward the elevator bay. “We should hurry.”

Keeping my camo in place I knacked the lock and pushed the door wide enough to slip in, and closed it behind me without letting it latch.

The entry to the penthouse condo was large and spacious. The ceilings were high and expensive artwork was on display in inset coves leading into the main room. The paintings and sculptures were disturbing. Medieval depictions of battle, hunting parties and one demented looking piece that looked like Dante’s Inferno.

Charming.

Entering the main living area I moved slowly so that my camo wasn’t forced to adjust rapidly to changes in my surroundings. Windows ran the entire length of the far wall, floor to ceiling. There must have been over a thousand square feet of glass overlooking the water.

A large bar with several ornately carved stools ran along one wall the led to the largest flat screen TV I’d ever seen. On the opposite end of the living area was a huge open kitchen, dominated by stainless steel and white stone. All empty. I turned back toward the bar area and a hallway entrance to the right of it. It was well lit from skylights set in the ceiling, and had several doors opening on to it. The sleeping quarters had to be where Justine was being held. We had followed five minutes behind them at the most and had been at the front door a couple of minutes more. He’d moved quickly.

Stepping into the hall I stood quietly and listened.

A low murmuring came from one of the rooms with an open door. Moving as silently as I could, my camo in full effect, I padded down the hall toward the sound. As I got closer the sound resolved itself into a man’s deep voice. Hesitating at the door’s threshold, I held my breath and peeked around the door frame.

The room was more like a doctor’s office than a room you would find in someone’s home. Justine was sitting in a heavy metal chair that would have been at home in a modern art museum.

Silver was flipping white metal fastenings that held Justine’s ankles and wrists in place, talking to her while he worked on them.

“Wouldn’t want you to slip away before the boss shows up,” he said as he snapped another ankle restraint closed.

Justine looked at him through sleepy heavy-lidded eyes, a smirk lifting the corner of her mouth. “Wouldn’ slip ‘way. Run maybe. You’re cute, too bad you’re such a skeez.” She slurred her words and her head lolled from side to side.

He grinned evilly. “Mmm. Too bad we won’t have much time together alone.” He ran a finger down her cheek and neck, his grin spreading wider. I could feel my face get hot.

Justine rolled her head slowly to look up at him. “See wha I’m sayin’? Skeez.”

I’d heard enough. “Hey, sleaze-bucket! Get your hands off her!” Dropping my camo, I whipped a focused and concentrated telekinetic shot at him.

I can’t imagine what would have happened if I’d waited before I’d thrown my knack influence at him. His hands left Justine immediately, he spun, reached under his jacket, pulled a gun and got off a shot before he’d finished his spin.

The gun had a bulky attachment at the end of the barrel. It must have been a silencer because the gun made a ‘chuff’ sound instead of a loud bang. If it had been the first time I’d faced someone trying to do me bodily harm with a gun I’d probably have ended up in the hospital again. As it was, I instinctively used my knack to nudge his hand wide and the bullet whizzed past my head. Meanwhile my telekinetic whammy had made contact. His head snapped from the impact and he fell, landing awkwardly, his ankle twisting unnaturally as it crumpled beneath him.

But he wasn’t out. Moving faster than I would have thought possible under the circumstances he rolled and came up on one knee, his face grimacing in pain. The gun came up for another attempt to end my life, just as I unloaded a series of telekinetic bursts at his face and the muzzle of the gun.

His aim was better the second time, whether it was because I didn’t have the element of surprise or because I was having trouble focusing my knack on two different fronts, I don’t know, but my head exploded in pain and I went down.

My vision blurred, but I could see that most of my knack influence had missed. At least some of it must have hit home because he was grabbing his face as he lurched toward me. I felt something hot and wet trickling from my scalp, running down my face. He was standing over me in seconds, his good foot stomping down on my arm as I tried to reach for my stun gun.

“You little prick! This little witch wasn’t been selling Girl Scout cookies! You’re
done
!”

He levelled the gun at point blank range.

TIME SLOWED DOWN. As he squeezed the trigger I reached out with my knack and attempted to do something I’d never done before. Exerting my talent I focused on keeping the bullet in the chamber, hoping to jam the gun.

The gun went off and the result was dramatic. It exploded. Hot air and bits of metal spattered over me, but my attacker took the brunt of the blast. At the same moment a familiar twisted rope of electricity sliced through the air, striking him in the face. The combination of the energy flash and the explosion from the gun threw him backward. He flew into a wall and collapsed in a heap.

I frantically slapped at my face and shirt, swatting away hot gun fragments. Turning to look at the source of the electrical blast I saw Sawyer running up to me.

“Dude! Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I think. Maybe,” I groaned. Running my hand over my scalp I hissed in a breath and pulled my hand back. It was covered in blood. “Maybe not.”

“Let me look at it,” Sawyer said, craning his neck for a better view. He sucked in air through his teeth. “Benny, that doesn’t look good.”

“Uh, hullo? Um stug in this shair. Anybody care?” Justine slurred, from behind us.

Getting to my feet and gently pushing Sawyer’s hand away I turned to her. Despite what she’d been going through she looked remarkably good. The left side of her face looked less fresh-burn-victim. Her clothing was as revealing as ever, but there was something else. She looked fuller, healthier. Her complexion was less washed out. And she also had a more sultry appearance, possibly created by her doped up heavy-lidded gaze.

“Are you okay?” I asked her as I knacked all of the chair’s restraints at once. Sawyer nodded in grim approval.

“Ya’m ‘kay,” she mumbled, leaning forward and almost falling. I reached for her and she curled an arm around me as I helped her to her feet.

“My hero,” she mumbled as she nuzzled my neck.

I gingerly touched my head again, and more blood smeared my hand. My scalp was on fire.

“You’re hurt,” Justine mewed. “Lemme fitzit.”

She started to reach her hand to my temple.

“Benny,” Sawyer said, standing over the assassin.

“What?” I asked, but the way he was looking at the killer’s body gave me a queasy feeling. Justine touched my scalp with the tips of her fingers.

“Lemme help…” she said in a sing-song voice.

Gently disentangling myself from her embrace, I walked over to Sawyer.

“What?” I asked again.

Tiny beads of sweat had broken out on his upper lip. “I’m no doctor but I think he’s dead. We have to get out of here right away. That doorman downstairs is going to be found. We’ve got a potential massive screw up brewing. Kenwoode is going to be pissed.” Considering the fact that this whole ill-advised mission had been his idea I understood his concern, but I was more worried about the possibly dead guy at our feet.

I groaned as I bent down to look at him up close and immediately reeled back. Either Sawyer’s blast or a piece of shrapnel from the gun had torn a hole in his right eye socket. Charred flesh and red and white pulp filled the space where his eye had been. The other eye was bruised and swollen shut. His face was torn and bleeding in a dozen places and pocked with burn marks. His model-perfect good looks were a thing of the past. Although, if you’re dead I guess that wouldn’t be your biggest concern. I tasted bile in the back of my throat.

“Watcha guys lookin’ at?” Justine asked, walking shakily in our direction.

I moved to block her view. Sawyer was staring at our unmoving assailant. “Oh man.”

Grabbing a fistful of his jacket I shook him to get his attention. “We need to focus. We’ve got to get Justine and this guy out of here and we’ve got to do it without anybody seeing us.”

“Yeah? How’re we gonna do that Benny? How’re we gonna do that? I should have listened to you. This totally blows.” He looked like he was going to be sick.

“Pull it together. Okay?” I nodded at Justine. “Justine, we need to get out of here quickly. Are you okay to walk on your own?”

She waved her hand lazily in front of her, swaying slightly and said, “Sure. No prollem.” Yeah, none of that inspired any confidence.

I looked back at Sawyer. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to help Justine so that she keeps up and doesn’t fall and break her neck.”

“Benny yer so sweet. Yer allus thinking of me,” Justine purred.

“I’m going to carry the hitman and together we’re going to sneak downstairs. We’ll leave him stashed somewhere and then we’ll figure out how to get out of the building without being spotted.”

Sawyer looked even sicker. I hoped he wouldn’t spew. We had no time to clean up puke and I didn’t want to leave any clue that we had been in the condo.

“Yeah? We’re in some pretty serious crap, Benny. Big time! How are you gonna carry that guy downstairs, huh? Tell me that?”

In answer I focused my telekinetic knack around the prone figure at our feet and then grabbed an arm. Between my knack and a lot of effort I got him upright and threw a shoulder under him, staring meaningfully at Sawyer.

He just shook his head, his face white as the proverbial sheet. “Okay, okay.”

Looking back over my shoulder I grimaced at the mess we were leaving behind. Then again, considering what had been going on in there I couldn’t see anyone calling the police.

We made our way out of the room and back through the luxurious living room.

When the four of us, three living and one probably not, got to the front door of the condo I opened it with my knack and peered out. The fact that the residents paid for security
and
privacy was to our advantage. I hadn’t seen any cameras on the way in so our only concern was avoiding anyone exiting the two other condos or the elevator.

Directly across from the elevator was a blank doorway that had to be the emergency access to a stairwell.

We hustled as quickly as my burden and Justine’s drug-slowed pace would allow. When we reached the door I saw a security crash bar with ‘alarm’ clearly labelled next to an integrated speaker grill. Sawyer didn’t hesitate and stretched a hand toward it. Electricity flowed from the space in front of his hands and into the device. There was a soft popping noise and he looked at me.

“Your turn,” he said.

Knacking the lock and pushing the door open we stepped into the stairwell just as I heard the bell on the elevator signal its arrival. The door had barely closed behind us when we heard voices.

A muffled voice filtered through the door. “I’m telling you, they have to be up here. They were following a registered guest of Ms. Weller.”

Using my knack doesn’t cause fatigue in the same way that using the muscles in my body does. It’s an issue of how complicated the foci are and how many different ones I’m...well...focusing on. Imagine staring at a complicated design for an extended period of time. Your eyes and mind get tired and your attention may begin to waver. That was my challenge as we descended twenty flights of stairs. Silver was big and heavy, which was not a huge problem, but his bulk made maneuvering him tricky.

Justine, on the other hand was a literal handful for Sawyer. Which was something that I discovered I didn’t like. I tried to ignore where his hands were supporting Justine. The trials of hero work are complicated.

By the time we got to the ground level I was sweating and Sawyer was running out of patience with Justine. She kept trying to walk on her own, which would have been fine, except that she continued to stumble and slow us down.

As we neared the bottom I scanned for cameras and sure enough, there was one mounted to the wall about fifteen feet below us. Extending my hand and using my fingers to help me focus my knack I reached out and twisted the camera on its mount so that it pointed at the ceiling. When we reached the bottom of the stairs we found ourselves on a concrete landing about eight feet square. There was a metal door, complete with another alarmed crash bar that presumably opened out onto the street.

Sawyer zapped the crash bar alarm and I knacked the locking mechanism without either of us exchanging more than a glance. Despite the less than ideal circumstances we were developing a rhythm for working together. Using my knack to keep the hitman upright, I slid my shoulder out from under his torso, invoked my camo and pushed the door open a crack. Looking in every direction possible I surveyed our potential exit route. Leaning back into the enclosed space I rolled my shoulders to ease the muscle strain from half carrying the heavy man.

“What’s the story?” asked Sawyer.

“Yeah, wass story? ‘Cause your unvisible. IN-visible,” Justine burbled happily. I wondered how long she was going to be loopy.

“There’s another camera above the door,” I said. “The good news is that the exit is completely screened from the street by a hedge. The bad news is that I can hear a lot of cars. So no matter what you’re going to be seen. We’re two blocks from a bus stop so it will be tricky not getting noticed with Justine being as goofy as she is.”

“Hey!” Justine complained feebly.

“Let me see,” said Sawyer, as he stepped forward and opened the door a couple of inches. He was careful not to expose his face. Pulling back he nodded at me.

“You think you can finesse the camera or do you want me to fry it?” he asked.

“I’ll get it,” I said.

Keeping my camouflage in place I opened the door just wide enough so that I could see the camera. A second later it was providing someone with a view of the clouds overhead.

“Okay. Let’s try this: you and Justine curl your arms around each other like you’re a couple. You go out first. Don’t wait for me. Catch the first bus possible. I’ll wait two minutes and then I’ll follow. I’ll try to use my camouflage and telekinesis to make it look like this guy’s a drunk stumbling on his way home.”

“I thought we were going to leave him here,” said Sawyer.

Shaking my head, I said, “No. If we do they’ll find him and we might be connected to him. He needs to come with me at least until I can stash him somewhere. My camo will protect me but I can’t hide the two of you.”

Sawyer swore under his breath, but nodded. “Okay, let’s do it.”

I opened the door for them with my knack, juggling the focus between the door and Silver the no-longer-handsome hitman. It bothered me more than a little when Sawyer and Justine snuggled up to each other until she looked back at me and made a face. Comedy under duress. It made the whole situation seem even more surreal. Two minutes seemed to take forever. It wasn’t helped by the sound of footsteps on the stairs above me. I couldn’t wait. It was time to go. 

Camo in place, using the combination of my knack and pulling one of his arms over my shoulder I got us out onto the sidewalk. To any passing cars he must have looked strange with one arm slung out in midair and dragging his feet. I could see Sawyer and Justine ahead, almost a block away.

I began to worry that the charade wasn’t going to work when Silver violently twisted out of my grip and stumbled away from me. How he had survived the damage to his eyes and the explosion was beyond me but the guy was strong. Swinging a blind punch that just missed my temple, he staggered back a few feet from me and teetered on the curb. One hand reached behind him and dang if he didn’t whip it back around with another gun. Should have searched him, but you know, we thought he was cashed out. The guy’s near superhuman speed and resilience was getting old.

And dangerous.

Blind, he wiped at his eyes and then growled in pain. He swung the gun back and forth, trying to target me, his head cocked, listening. Even if he’d been able to see he would have had a hard time locating me as I had kept my camo in place.

I wasn’t sure what to do. He was an enemy we wouldn’t want to face again, and couldn’t risk having him tell Sonja about us. She might disappear again.

While I wasted seconds sweating over what to do Fate intervened.

The emergency exit door banged open behind me. The doorman and a security guard burst around the hedge and spotted my gun-toting buddy immediately. The doorman might have recognized Silver if the damage to his face hadn’t made him look like a crash victim. The gun pointing in their direction didn’t help Silver endear himself to them either.

“Hey! You! Stop right there!” yelled the security guard. He had nothing more than his open hand to threaten Silver, who couldn’t see it anyway.

Silver had been waiting for some sound to focus on and the guard’s panicked command was enough. He whipped the gun in the direction of his voice and shot him. At the same time he back pedaled off the curb.

Into traffic.

And the path of a delivery van.