Thermobaric blonde

  Anthony and his two remaining men moved through the deli with ons raised, fshlights shining through the smoke as the fire arm fshed and screamed. In the lobby, the elevators waited with open doors like ghosts had called them. The three men got in position and froze, still as corpses.

  “How many?” Lindsey asked EP.

  “Three, taking cover in the elevators. One in the right-ter, and two i two on the left.”

  “Moving.” She went down the hall in a low crouch. At the er, she visualized them, their position and distance, how she would gun them down, one by one. She went over it all again in under a sed, then took a breath, backed away from the wall, and stepped in front of the doorway.

  The guard in the ter-left elevator fired just as she cleared the frame. Her Galil snapped soundlessly and his face was no longer a face. She took aep and the guard in the far-left elevator came into view, muzzle fsh blooming on his chest. Bullets ripped through the drywall and one punched her ihigh. Stumbling, she put three rounds in his chest. Another pun her right side as she shot him in the jaw. She stepped again to ehe guard in the right-side elevator and put five rounds into the doorway before she realized he had backed out of sight. Still firing, she stepped into the hallway and got punched in the side.

  The guard she had shot in the ja on one knee and his muzzle fshed again. She put three rounds in his face before she knew he had missed her. Brains smeared on the elevator wall as he slumped down.

  She turned back towards the right elevator, and the marble aal around the call button exploded in a stream of bullets. Most missed her or struck her chest pte, but she felt another pun her hip ao the right. She rolled with it aied the rest of her magazio the inside left wall of the adjat elevator. With the empty mag still boung on the floor, she threw herself bato the hallway.

  “I’m hit,” she whispered. Blood pooled on the carpet and her fingers moved sluggishly from the mag release t pouch. She tried t her mind out of the cloud of pain and visualize all her limbs w correctly. Somewhere deep and distant, a voice cried out, begging to be spared.

  Philip had killed anuard whose M249 jammed after firing about ten rounds into the floor of the lobby. The sad sound of the trigger had been louder than gunfire, and now that the body was out of sight, it felt like a dream.

  He was standing out in the open oop of the loft with nothing around but broken gss and bodies when the bomb went off. He just ughed while the ground shook and something roared behind the wall like a dragon caught in the pipes. So, this was Michael’s brilliant pn? Hit the elevators, then blow the stairwell whearget was ioo bad they were after a guy with the ability to open a door and walk te.

  EP came on the line, frantically trying to expin why he o get up the stairs, now! The same staircase the dream team had vely turned into a smoking burning mess a few seds ago. She assured him the stairs themselves should be intact. Golly gee, good news all around.

  “All right. How many?” he said softly, fighting the adrenal dump and the urge to say something cutting.

  “Five. They have the elevator open and they’re formed up around the target. Lindsey’s hit, you o move now!”

  He ughed again. If he could even make it up the stairs. He took a deep, painful breath, and got to it.

  He let his Rattler hang down at his waist and took out the st grenade, ripped off the electrical tape and safety clip, got a good grip around the ball with his thumb on the lever, and took out the pin. Ready to die, he opehe door to the staircase.

  The walls were scorched and something below was burning. A fire sprinkler had burst above and water flowed off the nding and dowairs. The rushing sound of another broken pipe below echoed up the shaft like the world was sinking. Immediately, his eyes stung, and he had to hold his breath. He drew his P226 and struggled up the stairs, battle wounds and two car crashes calling their debt.

  Blood streamed off his hand and joihe water flowing past his feet. Nostalgia hit him again and all the pain and weariness fell away. Gunfire and onih, tesselted. Memories. Fractured the way they always were here. Like standiween two mirrors. The world moved beh his feet and brought the door to him. O deep breath, and he felt alive again.

  He let go of the grenade lever, kicked open the door, a out gun first. The P226 jumped three times. He ted to one in his head.

  Two guards threw the target to the ground, while the other two took aim at Philip and one fell over with his kneecap blown in half. Philip shot the guard o the elevator in the fad took a bullet to the thigh and ao his hip before the grenade left his hand. Bullets tore into his legs as the grenade soared through the air, and shots cracked all around and sparked off his chest pte as he fell. The floor took ages to touch him. For a moment, he thought he might keep falling forever.

  He colpsed into a tangled crouch as the grenade smacked into the side of the guard with one knee. Anuard looked at the grenade boung on the bloody carpet and Philip shot him in the face. Someone fired a burst that ripped through Philip’s right arm, shoulder, and the side of his neck. The pistol fell from his hand and he ted to three.

  “Grenade!” yelled some son of a bitch. Bullets sparked off the Rattler and kicked up bursts of carpet as Philip reached across with his left arm and grabbed at his fallen pistol. The uard got the target up and moved him into the elevator shaft in a siride. They reached for something attached to the cables as Philip lifted his gun. Too slow. He shot the guard that tried to follow them through the legs. He dropped screaming as Philip ted four in his head.

  “Fuck y—” The gre Phillip off with a bang that no one on the floor would ever hear. They all fell dead as the lobby fractured into a cloud of smoke and dust.

  A metallic thunk echoed in the elevator lobby as Liood bleeding in the hallway. It was time to move.

  “The Targets on top of the Elevator. Philips out.” EP said in her ear. She fiightening the tour, raised her on, and moved forward. Automatients took over as she cleared the doorway. She watched herself as if from far away. Her boot came down on a shell g with a light “tink”. It was the loudest noise in the world, bright ahereal in the humming quiet.

  A suppressor snaked out of the elevator and fshed as the gunman stepped into view. The Galil moved on its own and in a sed it was over. She fell with the gun still going and nded on her side in the ter of the lobby. The shooter folded up in the elevator with his face hanging off and his neck spraying.

  Lindsey was still breathing, but her right arm was mangled beyond use. She reached over tht hip with her left hand and got out her PPQ, aimed it at the elevator car, and coughed up blood. There was no sound but the whisper of the fire arm and a distant rush of water. Smoke drifted across everything like a dream. She was sure reality would e crashing down any moment. Her hand shook as she slowly and quietly brought her right knee up under her forearm.

  All at ohe guard dropped through the hatto the elevator car and her Walther fshed. She shot him five times before he had time to pull the trigger, but ihan half a sed his in-12 ejected three shells and Lindsey was dead.

  He sat bleeding in the smoke for a moment before he pressed his radio.

  “Where the fuck are you?”

  “Hold tight house, we’re almost there.”

  Two guards in full kit moved into the lobby and started clearing the other elevators. The bleeding guard screamed.

  “There’s no one in there, god dammit, get on me!”

  One looked down at Lindsey’s mangled corpse in awe.

  “Holy fuck.” He turo the shotgun on the ground.

  “Oh, fuck yea!”

  “Shut up a me a tour! Get down here, god dammit!” The bleeding guard shouted at the roof of the car and tried to worm out of the way. His legs were dripping blood and one of his arms hung limp. Paul hopped down through the hatd almost nded on him.

  “Where’s the door?” said Paul.

  “Dowunnels, in another basement.”

  The guard on the floor reached up to be lifted onto his feet, and Paul grabbed the in-12 off the ground.

  “What the fuck?” He was as offended as a dying man could be.

  “ you walk?”

  “No, I—”

  “Then stay here.”

  “What am I supposed to do here?”

  Paul reached down again and took a 10-round stick out of the guy’s mag pouch.

  “Not slow us down,” said Paul. He put it in his pocket and walked out. The guards fell in line around him and marched out of the lobby.