“You’re in way over your head, DHS-man,” Gordon says. “She’ll be here in a minute. If you leave now, you might actually survive the day.”
That he wants me to leave, and is willing to let me go without a fight means that there is a chance I could undo things, maybe even stop it. “I’m not going anywhere.”
If life came with a redo moment, this would be mine. I would have found something less definite and confrontational to say, because the moment I reveal that I’m here to the end, his tack changes.
He leaps—leaps—across the fifteen feet between us, slamming his fists down. If I hadn’t dove to the side, I would be dead. The indented roof is proof of that.
Back on my feet, I do the only thing I can think to do.
I run.
The roof is covered with large air conditioning units, electrical utility boxes, satellite dishes and three mobile home sized units with doors that probably lead to stairwells or elevator service access. I weave my way through the maze, trying to put distance between Gordon and me, but he keeps pace, a smile on his face.
Then I’m out in the open again, my back to an air conditioning unit the size of truck-Betty. Gordon steps out, slows to a stroll and then, in a blink, charges. He lowers his shoulder and covers the distance in a flash. I barely have time to dodge, and I’m struck a glancing blow that spins me around and throws me to the roof.
A sound like a car accident fills the air, and I spin around to find Gordon pulling himself from the ruins of the air-conditioning unit. This guy is like a frikken tank now, I think before scrambling to my feet and running once more.
Gordon’s laugh pursues me before he does, but as I round a stairwell, I can hear and feel his feet thundering over the roof.
After leaping out of the hovering helicopter onto the roof of a stationary UPS truck and climbing down into a panicked mob, Ashley Collins found the abandoned lobby of the Clarendon building a welcome relief. The thick glass blocked out the screaming and the air was cool and—
—rank. Collins drew her weapon and scanned the lobby. Nothing. She worked her way to the reception desk and saw no one, but when she moved around it, she discovered the scent’s source—a dead doorman, shot in the head.
Gordon’s work, she thought, and then she headed for the elevators.
The ride up was the longest forty seconds of her life. She was in a rush, and despite the elevator ascending far faster than she could climb stairs, standing still just felt wrong. But the ride was also nerve-wracking because the power had begun to flicker, and she thought she might get trapped inside while the giant she-beast moved in, to flatten the building.
But then the doors opened with a ding and she stepped into the hallway of the thirty-third floor. She saw a sign for the stairwell at the end of the hall, not far from a door that had been kicked in. She drew her weapon and moved toward both doors. Inside the open door was a nice, but bland apartment for someone who clearly had money to burn. But nothing else. When she turned toward the stairwell door, it was already open.
She froze, frowning deeply.
A gun was leveled at her face.
“What are you doing here?” a man said from the dark stairwell. She recognized the Japanese accent.
“Kind of a stupid question, don’t you think?” she said. “I’m here to stop you. How about you put the gun down and we finish the fight you ran away from?”
Endo stepped into the hallway light, forcing Collins back. Then he did something unexpected—he lowered his gun. Collins instantly brought her weapon up. Despite the sudden role reversal, she felt unnerved. Something weird was going on. She looked around the hall as much as she dared, searching for signs of hidden danger.
“We are no longer enemies,” Endo said.
“How’s that?” she asked. “You would have killed us before.”
He nods his affirmation. “But the General is no longer my employer.”
“Zoomb?” she asks.
He ignores the question, but says, “Our goals are currently aligned. I am here to stop General Gordon.”
Collins read between the lines. Endo wasn’t here to stop Gordon, he was here to kill Gordon. She was sure there was some kind of corporate endgame being played out, with Endo a willing pawn, but she wasn’t sure what it was. And she didn’t actually care. “Why should I believe you?”
Endo looked down at his gun. “If it were not the truth, I would have killed you...but the General is different now. Altered. I know how you fight. I have seen your spirit. And strength.”
“Now you’re trying to get me into bed,” Collins said.
“Actually, I could use your help.”
Collins squinted at him. He sounded sincere and he had lowered his weapon. But could she trust him? She didn’t think so. But then he said, “And I’m certain agent Hudson could use help—from both of us.”
As though to punctuate the point, the roof shook from an impact.
Collins lowered her weapon. “Fine, but when this is done, I’m taking you in for murder.”
Endo didn’t reply to that, he just turned and headed up the stairs.
Collins followed.
44
Project Hyperion (A Kaiju Thriller) (Kaiju #4)
Jeremy Robinson's books
- Herculean (Cerberus Group #1)
- Island 731 (Kaiju 0)
- Project 731 (Kaiju #3)
- Project Hyperion (Kaiju #4)
- Project Maigo (Kaiju #2)
- Callsign: Queen (Zelda Baker) (Chess Team, #2)
- Callsign: Knight (Shin Dae-jung) (Chess Team, #6)
- Callsign: Deep Blue (Tom Duncan) (Chess Team, #7)
- Callsign: Rook (Stan Tremblay) (Chess Team, #3)
- Prime (Chess Team Adventure, #0.5)
- Callsign: King (Jack Sigler) (Chesspocalypse #1)
- Callsign: Bishop (Erik Somers) (Chesspocalypse #5)