Backfire
Page 121
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A nurse called out, “Agent Savich, wait a moment. Judge Hunt asked to speak to you.”
Savich saw the gun jerk in her hand and wondered if he or the nurse would be dead before he could answer her.
A toilet flushed. Both Xu and Sherlock froze. The stall door opened, and a hugely pregnant woman squeezed out the stall door. She was pulling out earbuds blasting the end of Barenaked Ladies. “Twins,” she said. “Isn’t that—”
She saw Sherlock, saw the gun, saw the ugly guy who was dressed like a woman and a nurse, and she opened her mouth and screamed as loud as she could, and didn’t stop. Xu’s gun jerked toward the woman. Sherlock pivoted, brought up her knee hard in his crotch, and slammed her fisted hands down on his wounded arm as the bathroom door burst open and Harry came flying through.
The woman didn’t stop screaming, she kept it up, a lovely ear-splitting blast, but those screams were lovelier than the “Hallelujah Chorus” to Sherlock. Xu was trying to raise his arm from the floor to shoot Sherlock or the pregnant woman or Harry, she didn’t know which. She kicked him in the head and stomped her boot heel down on his hand, heard the bones crack. The Beretta clattered across the linoleum. Xu was cursing her, an odd mixture of Mandarin and English, and she kicked him in the ribs.
Harry fell to his knees beside Xu, turned him on his stomach, and grabbed his hair, only to have it come off in his hand. Xu’s hand came out of his pocket fast, a knife clutched in his fingers. He slashed out at Harry once and again, trying to break free. Harry wanted to kill him, wanted it very much, but instead he jumped back and raised his SIG. “Xu, if you don’t throw that knife away and put your hands on your head I will shoot you in one second.”
Xu froze. He didn’t release the knife.
“You die holding a knife, that’s rich.” Harry brought his SIG down against Xu’s face. “Hey, you got another flash bang with you?” Harry smiled. “Three, two—”
Xu let the knife fall. Harry kicked it against the counter. Harry was cuffing Xu as Sherlock grabbed her cell and punched in speed-dial. Dillon’s cell rang once, twice, and kept ringing four times until it went to voice mail. Charlene had him, otherwise he would have answered. She had to get to him, but the pregnant woman was choking, gasping for air, she was so scared looking down at the man lying handcuffed on the floor moaning and cursing. She grabbed Sherlock, hugged her as hard as she could, and began, of all things, to pat Sherlock’s back. She cleared her throat. “You’re the greatest kicker.”
Harry yelled, “Look what I found, a damned detonator.” Harry disarmed it. “So much for this part of your plan, Xu.”
She’d forgotten the bomb. Sherlock pulled away from the woman. “Thank you. Sorry, I’ve got to go.”
But the woman grabbed her again and kept squeezing. “I’m sorry you can’t get closer, but it’s twins. I have to wear mules, since I can’t even see my feet.”
“I know.” Sherlock knew the woman was going into shock, and so she said gently, “It’s all right now, I promise.” Then Sherlock simply lifted her away. In the next second, she pushed out the bathroom door. She shoved her way through the growing crowd of people and yelled, “Get security, fast!”
Savich called out to the nurse still walking toward them, “It’s okay. Tell Judge Hunt I’ll be in to see him in a few minutes. Thank you.”
“Smart move,” Charlene said out of the side of her mouth, watching the nurse give Savich a smile and a finger wave and turn back to the nurses’ station.
“Cute little gal. From the look she gave you, I think she’d like to fool around with you. You faithful to your wife?”
Savich saw the nurse turn once more and look from him to Charlene, puzzled. Keep going, everything’s okay. Keep all your mad attention on me, Charlene.
“Not going to say anything, huh? You’re probably not faithful, no guy is, including that dog of a husband I had, and do you want to know what—” She stopped again in mid-sentence. Shut up, shut up, Charlene.
Savich opened the stair door and started climbing. What she was saying, it was bizarre, but it was more than that. It was as if her brain suddenly went skydiving, and she was barely able to bring herself back to focus. Could he use that?
They reached the fifth floor, two more floors to go. Thank God no one opened the doors. He wondered how much longer that luck would hold, kept glancing toward her, looking for his chance. His cell rang, and he felt her jump. He listened to it go to voice mail, then silent.
Savich saw the gun jerk in her hand and wondered if he or the nurse would be dead before he could answer her.
A toilet flushed. Both Xu and Sherlock froze. The stall door opened, and a hugely pregnant woman squeezed out the stall door. She was pulling out earbuds blasting the end of Barenaked Ladies. “Twins,” she said. “Isn’t that—”
She saw Sherlock, saw the gun, saw the ugly guy who was dressed like a woman and a nurse, and she opened her mouth and screamed as loud as she could, and didn’t stop. Xu’s gun jerked toward the woman. Sherlock pivoted, brought up her knee hard in his crotch, and slammed her fisted hands down on his wounded arm as the bathroom door burst open and Harry came flying through.
The woman didn’t stop screaming, she kept it up, a lovely ear-splitting blast, but those screams were lovelier than the “Hallelujah Chorus” to Sherlock. Xu was trying to raise his arm from the floor to shoot Sherlock or the pregnant woman or Harry, she didn’t know which. She kicked him in the head and stomped her boot heel down on his hand, heard the bones crack. The Beretta clattered across the linoleum. Xu was cursing her, an odd mixture of Mandarin and English, and she kicked him in the ribs.
Harry fell to his knees beside Xu, turned him on his stomach, and grabbed his hair, only to have it come off in his hand. Xu’s hand came out of his pocket fast, a knife clutched in his fingers. He slashed out at Harry once and again, trying to break free. Harry wanted to kill him, wanted it very much, but instead he jumped back and raised his SIG. “Xu, if you don’t throw that knife away and put your hands on your head I will shoot you in one second.”
Xu froze. He didn’t release the knife.
“You die holding a knife, that’s rich.” Harry brought his SIG down against Xu’s face. “Hey, you got another flash bang with you?” Harry smiled. “Three, two—”
Xu let the knife fall. Harry kicked it against the counter. Harry was cuffing Xu as Sherlock grabbed her cell and punched in speed-dial. Dillon’s cell rang once, twice, and kept ringing four times until it went to voice mail. Charlene had him, otherwise he would have answered. She had to get to him, but the pregnant woman was choking, gasping for air, she was so scared looking down at the man lying handcuffed on the floor moaning and cursing. She grabbed Sherlock, hugged her as hard as she could, and began, of all things, to pat Sherlock’s back. She cleared her throat. “You’re the greatest kicker.”
Harry yelled, “Look what I found, a damned detonator.” Harry disarmed it. “So much for this part of your plan, Xu.”
She’d forgotten the bomb. Sherlock pulled away from the woman. “Thank you. Sorry, I’ve got to go.”
But the woman grabbed her again and kept squeezing. “I’m sorry you can’t get closer, but it’s twins. I have to wear mules, since I can’t even see my feet.”
“I know.” Sherlock knew the woman was going into shock, and so she said gently, “It’s all right now, I promise.” Then Sherlock simply lifted her away. In the next second, she pushed out the bathroom door. She shoved her way through the growing crowd of people and yelled, “Get security, fast!”
Savich called out to the nurse still walking toward them, “It’s okay. Tell Judge Hunt I’ll be in to see him in a few minutes. Thank you.”
“Smart move,” Charlene said out of the side of her mouth, watching the nurse give Savich a smile and a finger wave and turn back to the nurses’ station.
“Cute little gal. From the look she gave you, I think she’d like to fool around with you. You faithful to your wife?”
Savich saw the nurse turn once more and look from him to Charlene, puzzled. Keep going, everything’s okay. Keep all your mad attention on me, Charlene.
“Not going to say anything, huh? You’re probably not faithful, no guy is, including that dog of a husband I had, and do you want to know what—” She stopped again in mid-sentence. Shut up, shut up, Charlene.
Savich opened the stair door and started climbing. What she was saying, it was bizarre, but it was more than that. It was as if her brain suddenly went skydiving, and she was barely able to bring herself back to focus. Could he use that?
They reached the fifth floor, two more floors to go. Thank God no one opened the doors. He wondered how much longer that luck would hold, kept glancing toward her, looking for his chance. His cell rang, and he felt her jump. He listened to it go to voice mail, then silent.
