Chapter 168
168
Iburst out of the hotel exit and ran away from where the shooter had been.
Once I reached the street behind the hotel, I jogged west and doubled back around.
Now I was on the same block as the shooter – or at least where he’d been ten minutes ago.
I found a fire escape, climbed it, and slowly made my way across the rooftop. The buildings were close enough that I could easily jump from one to the next.
Two minutes later, I found him.
Rather, I saw the barrel of his gun poking over the edge of a rooftop enclosure – one of those little hutches where a stairwell exits onto the roof.
His rifle was aimed at the hotel.
I pulled out my phone and texted Rachel.
Found one. Rooftop across from hotel. About to engage. Come when you can.
I looked around, found an air conditioning unit about 20 feet away, and stood up on it as quietly as I could.
I was fully aware that I was making myself a target for any other snipers, so I had to be quick.
With the extra three feet of height, I could see the shooter’s prone body dressed all in black.
I raised my suppressed Glock and fired twice: once at his left arm and again at his left leg.
He screamed bloody murder and scrambled to pull a pistol –
“DON’T,” I shouted, “or I’ll kill you. Roll over NOW or I shoot you. Three, two – ”
He rolled off the opposite side of the enclosure, away from me.
At the same time, I jumped off the air conditioning unit and ran towards him.
I heard him SLAM into the rooftop and stifle a scream.
I whipped around the corner, my gun pointed at the ground –
But Rachel was already standing there, her gun pointed at the shooter’s head. “I got him p>
I quickly bent over and took the pistol from the man’s holster.
Rachel pointed at the stairwell. “Question him inside in case there are more p>
“Good idea,” I said –
And stomped my heel into the guy’s face, breaking his nose.
“FUUUUCK!” he screamed as he clutched at his face.
Now that he was stunned and less capable of being devious, I grabbed his vest and dragged him to the stairwell.
Once the door shut behind us, it was pitch black inside. Rachel used the flashlight function on her cell phone and shined it into the guy’s face. He blinked up at the light as blood streamed down the lower half of his face.
“How many more shooters are out there?” I asked.
The guy didn’t answer – he just glared at me –
So I kicked the bullet wound on his leg.
“FUCK!” he howled as he clutched it in agony.
“I’ll ask again – ”
“NOBODY! There’s nobody fuckin’ else p>
Nobody! Thar’s nobody fookin’ else!
I frowned. He sounded like he had a Scottish accent. “You don’t sound Italian – or Russian, for that matter p>
“That’s because I’m not, genius!” he snarled.
Thas because I’m nawt, jane-yus!
“That was you at the restaurant?” Rachel asked.
“Yes p>
“Did Fausto or Aurelio hire you?” I asked.
The guy squinted up at me. “Who the fuck’s Fausto and Aurelio p>
“Did an Italian hire you p>
“No p>
Rachel and I looked at each other in surprise.
“Maybe it was a middleman,” she suggested.
“Who hired you, then?” I asked the guy.
“I don’t know p>
I brought up my foot as though to stomp him again –
“I DON’T KNOW HIS NAME!” he screamed. “He’s just some guy I do jobs for p>
“What – assassinations?” I asked sarcastically.
“Yeah – hit jobs ‘n shite like that p>
Suddenly, I felt queasy. “Where’s he based p>
“Here in London p>
“Have you ever met him or seen his face p>
“No p>
“This work you do for him – is it connected to MI6 or British Intelligence p>
He peered up at me in confusion. “…how’d you know that p>
Holy SHIT.
Rachel audibly gasped – and then she asked, “Have you ever heard his voice p>
“Yeah. He calls me p>
She flicked her thumb across her cell phone and tapped the screen.
“Is this him?” she asked angrily as a voicemail from Alistair began to play.
“Darling, I’m stopping off at the wine store to see if they have that cabernet you like – let me know if you want me to – ”
“That’s him!” the shooter cried out. “That’s him, that’s him p>
“Mother FUCKER!” Rachel roared.
The guy looked shocked, like he’d been expecting her approval for verifying the truth.
“I’m just a day player!” he blubbered. “Don’t kill me p>
“She wasn’t angry at you,” I said to the shooter.
The guy looked the tiniest bit relieved, though he kept glancing back and forth between us like he was hoping one of us would tell the other to let him go.
“What do you want to do?” I asked her.
Rachel looked at me – and a devious smile crept onto her face.
“I have an idea,” she said, then looked down at the Scotsman. “Do you want to live p>
“Fuck yes p>
“Then do exactly as I say p>