Against the Clock (10 page)
"Sure. If I can." Dornan said, leaning in closer. "You didn't go through official channels… I'm assuming this is off-record?"
"Off-record. For now."
"Which assignments? Which targets specifically?"
Barratt handed over a folded piece of paper. On it were the names of the targets Shirin had identified and eliminated. Targets Dornan had been photographed with.
Dornan made a show of unfolding the paper carefully, considerately. He glanced at Barratt for moment, then read the names.
"I'm sorry, Trent, I'll try to help as much as I can, but I don't think there's much I can tell you. I know of some of these men by name and reputation only."
The hairs on the back of Barratt's neck stood on end. Dornan had never called him by his first name before. He was trying too hard. Why?
"So you were never assigned to any of these men?"
"No."Dornan stared back into Barratt's eyes.
"Maybe you knew them under different names?" It wasn't a question. The frustration in Barratt's voice was clear. He had had enough of the games. Verbal sparring was not his way. Handing Dornan a small envelope with photos showing him next to or in close proximity with some of the men on the list, the steel in Barratt's voice cut through the charade.
"Don't piss me off!" Barratt said with venom. "I know you're involved with these men!"
"Wait a minute, just because I'm in these photos doesn't mean anything. Where did you get them? How do you know they're not doctored?"
Barratt flushed with anger. He was a man of action, not words. His eyes flashed brimstone. He reached to the small of his back where the loaded Glock waited, ready.
"Hold on, just hold on!"Dornan said, before Barratt's hand reached the comforting grip of the gun. "Before you draw your gun! Stop and look at your chest." He motioned for Barratt to look down. When he didn’t, Dornan grew more frantic."Barratt! Look at your chest!"
Barratt sensed something more than fear in the man. Without loosening his grip on the gun behind his back, he glanced down. He could see Dornan slump slightly from his peripheral, and then he saw it.
A red laser dot hovered over his heart.
Barratt looked at it. Stared at it. He leaned back slightly; it followed him. His face registered his shock before his mind fully understood what was happening.
"That is the laser sight of my sniper. If you pull your weapon, he will kill you," explained Dornan. In that moment, his body language changed, his manner changed. Dornan was in charge now, and he knew it. Smiling broadly, he looked into Barratt's eyes as the realization of the trap registered.
Turning his head slightly to the side, Dornan tapped his ear."An Emergency Response Team has been listening to every word. You're screwed. I suggest you cooperate and tell me where Shirin Reyes is. I give you my word, you can walk away from this. If not, we'll take you and…convince you to tell us. I'm afraid you won't be able to walk away after that…"
Barratt's mind raced. This whole meeting―it was a soft interrogation. That was why Dornan was here. They wanted Shirin.
Barratt looked around quickly. There was a team out there somewhere.
"Yes, there's a team out there,” Dornan said, as if reading his thoughts. "But you tell me what we need to know, you won't have to meet them."
Barratt had no choice. He could see no other way out. His mind rehearsed the quickly formulated plan before he acted on it. He would lunge for Dornan, use his body as a shield from the sniper, dive into the fountain and, protected by the concrete edge, swim under the water to the rear of the statue, then behind its massive size, run for the trees. He still had his gun. Any agents on the ground would be exposed if they tried to apprehend him.
It was a poor plan. One where he wouldn't survive, he was sure. But it was all he had. His grip tightened on the gun behind his back, he shifted his weight slightly, and prepared to move.
The burner phone in his pocket buzzed loudly in his pocket. The sensation snapped him free of his thoughts, catching him on the precipice of action. One second later, and it would have been too late; he would have been in mid-air flying toward Dornan.
"I would get that if I were you, Barratt. It could be important,” Dornan said with an arrogant smile.
With his free hand, Barratt slowly reached into his pocket and retrieved the phone. It was still buzzing.
"That's her, isn't it,” Dornan said, smiling. "Invite her to join us."
Barratt stared at the phone a moment longer, not sure he should answer it. If he was going to die, he didn't want her to know about it until after the fact. He canceled the call.
Before he could throw the phone into the water, it rang again.
Dornan said nothing. He just watched him. Curious. Like a cat toying with a mouse before it pounced.
Barratt's thumb went for the "end" button, then slowly moved to the side and answered the call.
"Yes?" he said flatly.
"Give the phone to Dornan," Shirin said calmly.
"Don't do this, Shirin!"
"I know what I'm doing. Give it to him."
Barratt pulled the phone from his ear. Looked at it as though it could answer all the questions in his mind, as though it were a crystal ball about to divulge his future. And then, slowly, he handed the phone to Dornan.
"Are you ready to come in, Shirin? If you come in now, quietly, we'll let your friend here walk off into the sunset, and he'll never hear from us again."
"I don't think so, Dornan," she said without emotion.
"Shirin, we have a sniper with his sight leveled at your friend as we speak. If he moves, he dies. We also have an EMR team fifteen seconds away. If you don't come in, we will have to take Barratt. He
will
tell us everything we need. Then we'll come after you anyway. Why not save us all that time and unpleasantness?"
"Dornan…" Shirin said softly, "I'm going to enjoy killing you. But first, I think I'll put a bullet through your gut."
Dornan laughed. It was a laugh more for show than anything else. But it choked quickly at the back of his throat when he watched the red laser dot move from Barratt's heart.
The red dot moved evenly away from Barratt, across the space between them, and then rested, steady, over Dornan's stomach. His eyes went wide with shock. Understanding flushed the color from his face.
14:57:42
A few feet to Shirin's left, the incapacitated sniper lay awkwardly on the ground, shackled, unconscious, but alive. She would have questions for him when this was over.
Leaning into the supported gun, she felt at one with the rifle nestled against her in a tight cheek weld. The grip was comfortable, the scope powerful. She could see the whites of Dornan's eyes. She could see his temporal arteries pounding erratically. She could see intimately the fear oozing from every pore.
"Dornan, put the phone on speaker," she said into her hands-free earpiece.
His hands trembled. Clumsily he managed to press the speaker button.
Shirin knew now that this man was involved in Harry's death. There was no doubt. For that, she would kill him, of that there was no doubt. But first she had to find out who else was involved and, most importantly, who was behind it.
"Barratt. Can you hear me?"
Barratt nodded in reply.
"Good. You're all clear. If Dornan tries anything, snap his spine. I see two agents positioned either side of the walkway ahead. Walk straight past them to the south side entrance. One block to your right, there's a Ford Sierra. The back door is unlocked. Secure Dornan. I'll meet you there."
Without speaking, Barratt stood, pulled Dornan to his feet, and marched him forward.
14:58:51
Barratt heard the loud noise in the distance, an engine screaming closer and closer. He turned his head to see a large dark van barreling through the park, approaching the fountain at high speed, headed straight toward them.
"Keep going!" Shirin yelled over the speakerphone.
He pulled Dornan roughly behind him, almost dragging him along. With his free hand, he held the Glock concealed by his side, ready to fire.
The van was closing the gap quickly. They were still in the open, nowhere to hide. He just needed ten more seconds. He could use the trees for cover.
He was turning his back again to gauge their distance when he saw a hole burst through the front windscreen. He saw the driver slump forward. A second hole snapped through the front screen on the passenger side. The second figure slumped. Wet red smattered the inside cabin.
The van careened to the side and collided with the concrete edge of the fountain. The front end dug into the barrier with force. The back of the van kicked up and over, until the whole van tipped into the pond, its rear doors jammed against the base of the large statue.
Without missing a step, Barratt kept pulling Dornan faster along the pathway. They were out of the clearing, into the perimeter of trees. The two agents Shirin had identified sprinted toward him, guns drawn.
Barratt fired the first shot, his silenced weapon barely audible over Dornan's panting breath. Barratt's bullet missed its mar
k
.
The two men were out of range, but closing fast. He didn't need to hit them, he just wanted to slow them down.
The two men returned fire, taking turns, advancing on Barratt and Dornan. Their bullets zipped past, wide, but getting closer. Barratt shoved Dornan ahead of him, using his as a human shield.
Without warning, the closest agent's shoulder seemed to explode. He spun and fell. A moment later, the sound of Shirin's silenced rifle fire reached past his dead body to Barratt's ears.
He ran past the fallen body, raised his gun and continued to fire at the second agent, now concealed behind the bulk of a large tree trunk.
Barratt felt the waves of the loud thud before he heard it, as Shirin delivered another precision bullet, smashing through the agent and embedding itself into the trunk.
Barratt and Dornan kept moving. The entrance of the park was seconds away. Curious bystanders stood gawking, crouching and hiding, as they reached the pavement, turned right and headed for the parked Ford.
Barratt pulled at Dornan again. They didn't have much time. Police sirens wailed in the background, heading straight for them.
A gunshot smacked the air. He couldn't tell where it came from but felt it was close. He turned to look at Dornan and saw a gaping hole appear center mass, the wound in Dornan's chest wide enough to shove a fist through. His face registered shock, then another deafening gunshot and Dornan's head exploded like a watermelon assaulted with a bat.
Blood, hair, and brain splattered across Barratt's face, blinding him. He felt disoriented and shaken but managed to dive to the pavement and roll under a nearby car for cover while desperately trying to wipe the debris of Dornan's head and face from his eyes.
15:04:12
Shirin heard the two gunshots as she was packing away the sniper rifle. She dropped the weapon instantly and ran to the edge of the parapet. Five floors below, she saw what was left of Dornan's body flop to the pavement, and Barratt drop and roll under a large 4WD. She searched desperately for the shooter, but her vision was obscured by outcroppings of the building's architecture and store verandas below.
Barratt was still under the 4WD vehicle. He hadn't come out the other side. He was trapped with nowhere to go. She had to get down there.
Leaving the rifle and the unconscious agent behind, she ran across the open space to the stairwell, flung open the door, and bounded down the stairs five or six at a time.
She reached the ground floor, sprinted the narrow corridor to the entrance, and drew the silenced weapon from the small of her back.
The bright sunlight blinded her for a moment as she sped out of the building. Confronted with the cacophony of police sirens, screaming witnesses, and policemen yelling, Shirin froze and quickly reversed herself back under the threshold of the entrance.
Two patrol cars had pulled up on either side of the large 4WD. The four officers were yelling at Barratt to roll over and put his hands over his head. Their guns were drawn. If he tried anything, they would kill him. They had that look in their eyes.
15:08:15
Smith rounded the corner. Two blocks behind him, the chaos grew less objectionable to his senses.
Using a handgun without a silencer in public was not something he felt comfortable with. However, it provided the shock value and distraction he needed to slip away unnoticed. The clumsy arrival of the police made disappearing easier.
One more block and he would be in the food district. He could slip into a quiet restaurant, enjoy a peaceful afternoon coffee and melt into anonymity.
Killing Dornan was not ideal, but allowing Shirin and Barratt to question him presented too many risks. Dornan had known too much.
