Meghan motioned Beth to stay quiet and crept to the three other apartment doors in the hallway. She heard no sounds from inside.
Students weren’t known for early nights.
She thought furiously for a moment; two of them against unknown assailants who were aggressively interrogating Tiemann. The sounds from inside were clearer, louder.
There could be more. We need to know how many we’re up against.
Walking away wasn’t an option. It wasn’t who they were. They could call the cops, but that could take time.
Don’t have time.
She opened her jacket, fingered the inside and pulled out a thin cable that was fastened to two clasps sewn to the lining.
The cable was telescopic and extended to three feet and gleamed in the dim light. One end of the cable had an HD nano-camera. The other end of it could be connected to a cell phone. Once connected, the cable drew power from the phone and turned into a flexible, surveillance device.
She went to Tiemann’s door, crouched, and sent a silent prayer heavenwards; there was a thin gap between the door and the flooring. Enough for the cable to slip through. She attached one end of the cable to her phone and in a moment, its screen light and images appeared.
She heard Beth moving back; she didn’t have to turn to see what her sister was doing. Beth would have her Glock drawn and would provide cover. They were a team. Words didn’t need to be uttered. Moves came with practiced efficiency.
Meghan inserted the cable through the gap, and edged it forward till the camera sheltered underneath the door’s frame. Only someone who was looking for it, beneath the door, from the inside, would spot it. She was counting on no one looking for it.
Most people see at eye level.
The first image came, that of the far wall. There wasn’t anyone there. She rotated the camera slowly. The rest of the room came into view, a couch, a wall, the hallway, and Tiemann finally came into view.
He was bound and sat awkwardly in the couch; the same one the twins had thrown him in. In front of him was an interrogator, lean, and bending over Tiemann. He slapped the bound man hard, even as Meghan watched. Behind the interrogator stood another man, lounging casually. He said something in a low voice, the interrogator laughed and punched Tiemann again.
Tiemann grunted and shouted something that felt like I don’t have it.
Just two men? Meghan wondered.
Nope, three. The third man emerged from the bedroom, came through the hallway, shook his head and said something to his companions.
No visible weapons. Their shirts are loose, however. Maybe they’re tucked in waistbands.
She watched for some more time and when she was sure there were only three interrogators, she started to rise.
Footsteps sounded on the stairwell behind them.
She froze and snapped a look at Beth. Her sister holstered her weapon and gestured swiftly with her hands.
If they come to this floor, we’ll pretend we’re heading down.
The footsteps came on, paused, and an irritated voice called out. ‘Mike, where’re you?’
‘Mike?’
The voice swore and the footsteps resumed. Going down. Meghan turned to the camera when they faded. The scene was unchanged inside the room.
She watched for some more time as a plan unfolded in her mind.
It’s risky, but which mission hasn’t been?
She motioned for Beth; Beth bent over her, careful to keep away from the peephole’s sight line. She outlined her plan and waited for any questions. There were none.
Beth holstered her weapon again, combed her hair back, loosened the top button on her shirt and at a nod from Meghan, banged Tiemann’s door with a fist.
‘Honey,’ she yelled in a slurred voice.
The four men in the living room looked at the door.
‘Honey,’ Beth slammed her fist again. ‘I know you’re in there.’
The chief interrogator whispered to Tiemann. He shook his head vigorously. The interrogator nodded at one of his men who approached the door, peered through the peephole, and whispered something back.
‘Honey,’ Beth stomped her foot and whined. ‘I said I’m sorry.’
Her voice dropped an octave lower. ‘Let me make it up for you.’
Meghan cocked her head at her sister. Don’t overdo it. He’s not Mark.
She looked back at her screen as Beth pounded the door again, ‘Open up. Open up.’
‘Who’re you?’ Tiemann yelled from inside when the interrogator jerked his head at the door.
‘It’s me. Beth. You forgot about me already? Who else are you seeing?’ Beth shrieked and slammed her palm against the door. It sounded like a bullet shot and echoed in the narrow hallway.
One of the hostiles jumped, startled, and a hurried conference ensued when Beth repeatedly banged the door. The interrogator swiftly cut Tiemann’s binding and shoved him to the door. The hostiles spread out, the chief questioner to the left, the two others to the right.
‘I’m coming. Don’t wake the neighborhood,’ Tiemann shouted in irritation.
He slowed when nearing the door, but a shove from behind, brought him close.
He reached a hand out.
Meghan freed her right hand and held out three fingers.
He scrabbled against the door and unlocked it.
Two.
He put an eye to the peephole.
One.
He swung it open.
Beth slammed it open, grabbed him by his shirt and yanked him out.
A squawk of surprise from him and then he was outside, urged down the hallway and to the stairs, Beth behind him.
Meghan rose smoothly to her feet, moved to her right away from the peephole, grabbed the door knob, and pulled the door tight.
There was a stunned moment of silence from inside before a shout emerged. Footsteps rushed and a hand pulled at the door from inside.
Meghan resisted.
The shouts became louder.
The force on the door from inside became stronger.
Meghan exploded into movement.
She let go of the knob suddenly and kicked the door hard. It flew open and caught one man on the chin. He staggered back and cannoned into another man.
Meghan flew inside, her eyes scoping the entire room, taking in everything.
Two men. One holding his chin. Groaning. Another, straightening.
A third, a few feet away, standing slack jawed. Light dawning in his eyes.
Thought became action, as Meghan moved, across the door and towards the two men.
She kicked the first man in the groin, flung him at the wall and out of her way. A step forward, her right palm came up and crushed the second man’s nose.
It burst, blood poured down his face. He howled.
A second gone. Third man’ll start getting his wits back. Will start making his move.
She continued her forward motion and shoved Broken Nose at the third man who was finally moving.
Third Man’s hand was darting beneath his shirt.
Meghan stepped wider, and brought Broken Nose between them.
She heard running footsteps. She ignored them. Beth would take care of whoever it was. Or they could be Beth’s.
Third Man’s hand started emerging from under his shirt. Holding something dark and black.
He took a step back, losing a second as he avoided second man.
Meghan’s left hand grabbed her jacket. Held it wide open. Her right hand blurred inside. Her palm curled around the solid grip of her Glock.
Her fingers tightened, her hand withdrew, her knees bent, her body turned, presenting as small a target as possible.
Third Man’s gun came out. Large and ugly looking. His eyes were wide. He was breathing rapidly.
His barrel started rising.
Meghan’s eyes narrowed, her vision became a tunnel, saw the hairs on his eyebrows, saw his mouth wide open.
Her sight shifted an inch to her left and took in the bunching muscles of his shoulder.
A fraction of a second for her eyes, her barrel, and his shoulder to form a straight line.
The world compressed to the weight on her trigger finger. She waited an extra fraction and depressed.
The Glock sounded loud in the small room, and a red flower blossomed on Third Man’s shoulder.
Meghan moved before the report had ended. She slapped Third Man’s gun hand, sent his weapon skittering, ignored his scream, and punched him in the belly.
Third Man went down, his scream becoming desperate.
Two steps to the right, her Glock coming up, her eyes taking in the other two men. Lowering, when she saw Beth was covering them.
She kicked Third Man’s gun away, holstered her Glock, and the world started spinning again.
She secured the shot man, gagged him, and while Beth was binding the two others, Tiemann stumbled in.
His face slackened in shock when he saw his attackers on the floor. He swallowed and turned wide eyes at one twin and then at the other.
Meghan spared him a quick glance and pulled out her phone.
He’s filled with adrenaline. The questioning can wait till he normalizes.
She dialed Chang and cut his greeting short. ‘You need to come here.’
She didn’t give the address; she didn’t have to. Each operative in the Agency had GPS tags in their clothing and shoes. Werner monitored their movements continually and flagged any anomalies to all of them. The two cops had access to Werner’s feed for the twins.
Chang recognized the tone in her voice. ‘Bodies?’
Meghan looked at the three men groaning on the floor.
‘None.’