She looked around for an avenue of escape, knowing she’d better find one quickly or she was royally screwed. She could just make out the faint outline of rusted showerheads lining the far wall, and hooks for towels along one side. She saw nothing.
And then it struck her. She could see! So where was the light coming from? The grenade and muzzle flashes had temporarily blinded her night vision, but now that she was adjusting to the darkness, she could make out a small window, just above eye level, set in the center of the exterior wall. Rusted blinds hung across it, filtering in the tiniest glimmer of moonlight. It would be a tight squeeze, but she could make it. She opened up with the Kalashnikov, blowing every shard of glass out of the frame. She heard shouted instructions in the locker room, and knew the Manifold men believed themselves to be under attack.
“Armina,” she whispered loudly, “Stay where you are, and behind cover no matter what happens or what I say next. In fact, cover your ears.”
A whispered, “Okay,” was Armina’s only reply.
Queen shouted, “Hurry, go out the window,” hoping the men pursuing her would assume Armina escaped first. Another burst of gunfire replied to her voice as she dashed to the window and hauled herself up and out. “Go ahead, I’m hit” she shouted, doing her best to sound wounded. She waited there outside the window, readying another F1 and listening to the sound of pursuit as the remaining Manifold men dashed into the shower room after her. They really don’t learn, do they? She pitched the grenade through the window and relished the shouts of surprise and subsequent explosion. If Armina had stayed hidden in her locker outside the shower room, she’d be fine, but Queen couldn’t help worrying about the girl as she ran into the night.
Chapter 8
“What report do you have from the security force?” Darius’s palms were sweaty and his pulse throbbed in his temple. He had been correct about Zelda Baker, or “Queen,” as she was known. She was no ordinary operative. Though there remained a wealth of information on her that he was not permitted to access, he had learned enough to be gravely concerned that they had drawn the attention of such a dangerous enemy. The sole consolation was that she appeared to be alone rather than accompanied by her entire squad.
“Nothing in a while.” Andrew’s voice was tight. “The last report I had was that we’d lost two men, but they had cornered her in a locker room in the stadium. No one has reported back since.” He turned and fixed Darius with a nervous look. “I don’t know what to do now.”
“We have to assume she’s eliminated the security squad, and will soon be coming this way. Continue trying to reach the men in case any are still alive.” Darius ran a hand across his bald pate, feeling the ridges created by old scars. “If she reaches the amusement park…” He paused, relishing the expectant smile on Andrew’s face, “Perhaps we shall have the opportunity to play with a few of our toys.”
Queen vaulted a concrete barrier and turned back to watch the concourse. She hated leaving Armina alone, even for a short while, but she had to make sure she’d eliminated the Manifold force before going back inside. If any of them remained alive, they should soon be coming out after her. Cautiously, of course, but they would come. Eyes and rifle trained on the locker room entrance, she counted the seconds in her head.
One minute…
Two minutes…
Three minutes…
That was long enough. Finger on the trigger, she hugged the wall as she made her way back to the locker room. That last grenade must have finished them. If any of the men remained alive, surely they would have come out by now. She rounded the corner and entered the tunnel just as a black-clad man stepped through the doorway.
He was quick, but she was faster. She put a single round in his gut—the only round left in the Kalshnikov, but it did the job. He fell hard against one of the doors and slid to the ground, leaving a smear of blood behind him. His own rifle fell from his hands, forgotten as he pressed his hands over the wound, seeking in vain to hold the life in. Like so many men before him, he’d believed himself immortal. Queen could tell it from the shocked disbelief in his eyes, but he’d get no sympathy from her. She drew her Mark 23 and took aim.
He looked up at her, saw his death reflected in her eyes, and grinned. “You’re too late. Your girl is dead.” Malice dripped from every word.
“You’re lying.” She suddenly felt numb. It couldn’t be true.
“Zelda! Is that you?” he mimicked. “She took a bullet on the ricochet. It might even have been you who did it to her. Who knows? I finished her off for you, so the way I see it, you owe me a quick death like the one I gave her.”
“Liar!” Queen hissed. She drew her knife, determined to make his last moments on earth the most agonizing time of his life.