Justice for Hire (22 page)

Chapter 45

Thursday, August 25th, 5:59 PM

OLIVER CRAIG reached to a stand beside his easy chair, retrieved the remote control, and flicked on the television. The announcer’s rich voice filled his den, proclaiming the upcoming news.

Craig never missed the news. It was his way of keeping up with the pulse of the city, his city. Or at least, it soon would be, if everything continued according to plan.

The familiar Channel 7 logo flashed on the screen and the anchor announced the top story. Craig leaned forward with great interest, sipping a bourbon, as the face of Lisa Krunk appeared. She was standing on the sidewalk in a residential neighborhood. Police officers milled in the background, some carrying rifles or pistols, now relaxed and at their side. Patrol cars with flashing lights parked in awkward angles at the curb.

Craig smiled grimly. It looked like another coup for him. The girl had succeeded in her mission, and now he could feel the momentum building. He was one step closer. He could taste it, smell it, feel the power as it filled him and propelled him on. He took another sip of his drink and relaxed deeper into the chair.

“I’m standing in front of the home of private investigators Jake and Annie Lincoln, where just a few moments ago, a shooter invaded the home. Several shots were reported fired but the intended victim managed to escape unharmed.”

Craig choked on his drink and managed to sputter a string of curses. Something had gone terribly wrong.

“The unknown assailant, described as being a teenage girl, has not yet been apprehended. Police have organized an intensive manhunt for the would-be killer and they expect to make an arrest shortly.

“According to informed sources, the target of the assassin was Annie Lincoln. Viewers will recall my previous reports on the recent murders in Richmond Hill, and it’s suspected this latest attempt is related. The Lincolns have been deeply involved in that, and it’s my belief this is a desperate attempt to remove them from the investigation.

“I spoke briefly to Detective Hank Corning, the detective in charge of this situation. As most of you remember, Detective Corning has been investigating the prior murders we’ve seen, and his record has been impeccable as long as I’ve known him.”

Craig was livid, his face contorted into an angry frown. Had he underestimated the Lincolns, or had the girl failed him somehow? He leaned forward in his seat and listened to the rest of the bad news as the scene cut to a closeup of a familiar face. Detective Corning looked straight at the camera.

“I want to tell the citizens there’s no immediate cause for alarm. Police will be doing a door-to-door canvass of this area in Richmond Hill. This is not a random targeting and there’s no indication anyone else is in any danger, but if you live in this area, please exercise caution and stay in your homes. Don’t answer the door for anyone except the police until the shooter is apprehended.”

The camera panned, showing a shot of the scene, the street, and the police cars, their lights still flashing. Lisa Krunk appeared to be mocking Craig when her face reappeared.

“Channel 7 will keep you informed of any breaking developments, by special bulletins, until the danger has passed. In an exclusive report, I’m Lisa Krunk, for Channel 7 Action News.”

Craig jumped to his feet and turned off the TV. He tossed the remote aside and reached for his cell phone. He hit speed dial and paced impatiently until he heard Wolff’s voice on the line.

Craig screamed into the phone, “Wolff, what happened?”

There was silence from the other end, and then, “What . . . what is it, sir?”

“The girl, you fool. She failed in her mission.”

No response for a moment, and then, “She failed, sir?”

“Yes. The target got away. What happened?”

“I . . . I don’t know, sir. I . . .”

Craig took a deep breath and tried to cool himself down. This could jeopardize everything. He had to think clearly.

“Wolff, can you find her?” He spoke more calmly now.

“Yes, we should be able to pinpoint her exact location. Do you want me to send the boys to bring her in?”

“Yes, yes. Bring her in immediately. And Wolff . . . ?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Tell them if they can’t bring her in safely, they must deal with the situation.”

“Deal with it how?”

“Eliminate her. She must not be exposed to any police interrogation.”

“I believe she would remain loyal if . . . if that were to happen.”

“We can’t take that chance. Bring her in or get rid of her. Those are our only safe options.”

Wolff protested, “Sir, as you recall, the first girl was captured and, as far as we know, she has remained loyal. I believe they have been conditioned properly, leaving no element of danger in such a situation.”

“The first girl may be loyal so far, but we have no guarantee she’ll remain that way. It’s definitely a real problem, and I can’t afford another error.” Craig paused a moment before continuing, “Now, do as I say. We have no choice.”

Wolff sighed. “Yes, sir. I’ll get them on it right away.”

“Let me know exactly how things are going.” Craig hung up the phone and tossed it onto the chair.

What a mess. How could this happen. The girl had a lot of practice with a handgun, and was a good shooter, as well as familiar with a knife.

For a moment, Craig felt a wave of fear, and then desperation. They hadn’t planned for a situation like this. In fact, he never expected anything like this could happen. But if all turned out well, perhaps they should slow down, let his plans take a little longer to be accomplished, and do more testing of the candidates before issuing them their mission.

He dropped back into his chair and hoped he would come out of this unharmed.

Chapter 46

Thursday, August 25th, 6:10 PM

FROM THE UPPER floor window, the girl had watched her target race across the back lawn to the house next door.

She hadn’t been given instructions on how to proceed should she fail in her attempt. She only knew the operation was still active, the prey was on the loose, and she must succeed. Those were her orders. That was her plan.

She’d been shown pictures of both targets, and was given their names. She’d memorized the information, and was determined not to disappoint the Wizard.

After she’d dropped from the back window, her first instinct was to pursue the target. But Annie Lincoln would be on her guard. It would be better to let things cool, and then proceed.

She’d noticed a couple of boys in the backyard of the house where the quarry had entered. Someone had appeared at the back door almost immediately and called them in. They weren’t her target, and it was better they were out of the way.

After skirting around behind the Lincoln house, and then to the property behind the house where Annie Lincoln was, she had lain in wait, patiently, under cover of a row of thick bushes that bordered the property, for what she calculated to be well over an hour.

She needed to be sure the police had cleared away from the rear of the house, and all was quiet, before she proceeded with her assignment. She must not fail.

She checked her weapon. She’d used four rounds. Still plenty left, and she was thankful the Wizard had been wise enough to load the weapon fully. She checked for her knife, attached in a sheath at her ankle. The backup weapon was still there.

She listened intently, but heard nothing to cause alarm. The backyard of both houses were clear, and as she scrutinized the dwelling in front of her, no one could be seen moving about.

Time to move.

She scrambled forward, out of the bushes, and stood to her feet, the gun in her right hand. She kept low as she dashed across the lawn and crouched in front of a basement window. She assumed the doors would be locked. This was her only way in. She peeked cautiously through the window. The room was darkened and no one was about.

Removing the knife from its sleeve, she balanced it a moment on one finger, and then flicked it around and forced the razor-sharp edge into the space between the upper and lower panes. She worked several minutes before finally hearing a satisfying click, and the clasp was free.

She carefully tucked the knife away and eased up on the lower frame of the window. It was tight, but she managed to work it loose. It groaned and squealed as she raised it completely.

She paused and looked around, listened a moment, and then swung through the window, feet first, and landed with an easy drop to the concrete floor below.

She turned and surveyed the dim room. A washer and dryer. Some stuff on a row of shelving, and a door beyond.

She crossed the small room, twisted the knob, and eased the door open a couple of inches. She listened, and then swung the door enough to glide through.

She was in a larger room–the rest of the basement. It was dark as well, but she could make out a set of steps that led upwards. She skirted around some exercise equipment, avoided a pile of boxes and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. The stairwell was dark, and she would have to be careful.

With one hand on the railing, the other clutching the pistol, she took the first step. She’d expected them to squeak, and was pleased all was quiet. She couldn’t afford to warn the target. There would be no likelihood of a third chance should she fail this time. The Wizard would not be pleased and she would be devastated. The thought was unbearable. She must succeed, at all cost.

She took the second step carefully, her foot feeling the way in front. The wooden step made no sound.

More confident now, she climbed upward, testing each step before resting her full weight. Twelve steps up, she gently touched the door at the top, and felt for the knob.

Her hand rested on a handle, a lever. She pushed it down carefully. It made a slight squeal. She waited, and then pushed again and the door clicked. The latch was free. One inch. Two. The door swung away and she listened.

She could hear the faint sound of voices, but couldn’t tell from which direction. She peeked through the crack. The doorway led into a short hall. She saw a kitchen to her left, but couldn’t get a view in the other direction.

She eased the door fully open and stepped into the hallway. To the right of her was the front door of the house. She saw an archway that led to another room. That must be the living room, and that’s where the voices were coming from, a little louder now, though she still couldn’t make out what they were saying. She could hear a man’s voice. Jake Lincoln must have come. Perfect. She would have her choice of targets.

She made a quick decision and moved to the left, toward the kitchen. She needed to be sure she had the right target, and would wait until one of them presented themselves.

She ducked into the kitchen and stood around the corner, out of sight of the hallway. She waited several minutes until finally rewarded.

Someone was coming up the hallway.

She raised the gun, ready to fire the moment her quarry appeared. The footsteps drew closer and her target stepped into the kitchen. She pulled back on the trigger, and then hesitated as an unfamiliar face stared at her, mouth wide.

This was not her target. She’d been given no instructions on what to do in such a case.

She dropped the pistol to her side as the woman screamed.

Chapter 47

Thursday, August 25th, 6:21 PM

JAKE HEARD the scream and jumped to his feet. It was Chrissy, and it sounded like she was terrified.

Annie looked toward the sound, in shock, unable to move for a moment, and then stood and exchanged a look with Jake. Her mouth was open, her eyes wide, holding her breath.

“Stay back,” Jake whispered, as he moved to the doorway and stepped into the hall. Chrissy was backing slowly from the kitchen, her hands raised above her shoulders. She turned when Jake asked, “What is it, Chrissy?”

Then, a girl stepped into view, a pistol raised.

“Chrissy. Get down.” Jake dove, grabbed Chrissy’s arm and whipped her toward him. They hit the floor and rolled into the living room as the gun exploded.

He dragged Chrissy to her feet. As Annie dove behind the couch, he prodded Chrissy in the same direction. She stumbled forward, fell, and then scrambled on all fours and disappeared behind the couch with Annie.

Jake spun around. There was no room for him to hide with the girls, and if the killer came into the room shooting, the couch would offer no protection.

He had to draw fire his way. He had to become the target.

Without getting himself killed.

He couldn’t take the chance to dash across the hall and upstairs. The boys were up there, anyway. Not a smart move.

The closest thing at hand was the coffee table. A potted plant went flying as he swept up the table with one hand. He gripped it and waited.

The assassin didn’t appear. He assumed she would be creeping up the hallway and would be on them in a second.

He listened carefully, and heard a whisper of running shoes on the ceramic floor.

He moved to the doorway, swung the table blindly around the corner with all his might and let go. It whipped up the hallway. He heard it clatter, and then a moan.

He’d hit his target, but still couldn’t see her.

He poked his head around the corner and took in the scene with a quick glance. The table had connected. The girl was on her knees, her head down. The table lay on its side in front of her, but she still gripped the gun.

This may be his only chance.

He dove into the hallway and made a flying tackle into the table. The force knocked the girl on her back as the gun went spinning toward the kitchen.

He dove for the weapon and retrieved it, and then stood and tucked it behind his belt.