The Gamma Option (24 page)

Since he had yet to make his appearance, Hassani must still be upstairs, either relaxing or dressing. He would be under guard, yes, but would hardly be expecting an attack now and was probably the most accessible to her he would be all evening.

If she could find him.

If she could find a weapon.
I should have listened to Kourosh,
she thought.
As it turned out, I wasn’t searched at all
.
…

Her eyes turned to focus on the women. They were to a person elegantly dressed in lavish, western-style gowns. She watched them eagerly, not sure yet what she expected to see that might help her.

The answer came to Evira as she was straightening the arrangements of fruit on a table filled with a seemingly endless variety. A number of women disappeared into an alcove off the wall farthest from the kitchen only to return quickly to the ballroom. Evira suspected that what she would find there was the ladies’ room, and with that observation began at last to formulate the plan that would get her to Hassani.

Carrying her nearly empty tray, she eased closer to the alcove, pretending to offer champagne to the ladies as they emerged. When there was a lull in the flow of traffic, Evira ducked into the alcove. As expected, there before her was a heavy wood door leading into a ladies’ room, unoccupied at present unless she badly missed her guess. She propped the tray up against the wall, eased her hand over the knob, turned it, and pushed the door inward. She entered, prepared to pretend she was there to tidy up if approached.

The bathroom was indeed deserted. It, too, was lavish and smelled strongly of lavender. Evira entered one of the stalls and locked the door behind her. There was a crack sufficient for her to peer through, and she agonized through the comings and goings of several small groups of women, knowing she could only execute her plan if one entered alone. At last her patience was rewarded by the sight of a single beautiful woman entering the room. As the woman’s hand pushed open the door to the stall two down from hers, Evira sprang outward and grasped her by the neck. She quickly located the carotid arteries and squeezed off the blood flow to the woman’s brain. Then she dragged her into the stall on the chance that another guest was about to enter.

The woman was unconscious within twenty seconds. Evira’s next task was to get her victim inside what must have been the supply closet located just to the right of the bathroom’s entrance. Evira’s heart was thudding madly as she slid out of the stall and moved quickly for it. She held the woman’s unconscious frame in one arm, while the other reached to grasp the closet door’s knob.

It wouldn’t turn.
Locked, damn it, locked!

Immediately Evira’s ears probed for the inevitable clip-clapping of high heels against the hardwood floors where the carpeting ended outside the main door. At most she judged she had another minute, with the chance of considerably less than that. She eased the woman down and grabbed in her pocket for the pair of safety pins Kourosh had gotten for her.

Evira felt sweat starting to form on her brow as she knelt to work one of the pins into the lock. She jerked it too hard and it bent. She withdrew it with care and fingered her second one. Working more carefully, she inserted it into the lock and began to feel for the tumblers. She closed her eyes to better picture its insides and at last felt it give. The knob twisted in her hand and the door opened inward.

She pulled the unconscious woman into the supply closet and managed to get the door closed just before a new group of women entered the bathroom. Evira didn’t make a move or a sound, was careful to keep a hand close to her victim’s mouth just in case she stirred unexpectedly. When this latest group of women had gone, she found the closet’s light switch and went to work on her prisoner.

The woman was just about her size, a blessing indeed. After quickly removing her gown, stockings, and formal shoes, Evira went to work stripping away parts of her undergarments to bind and gag her. As further insurance, she tied the woman’s bound hands and feet to a storage rack well away from the door itself. Confident her captive was secure, Evira removed the maid’s uniform and struggled into the gown, adjusting it as best she could. The stockings were a perfect fit, but the high-heeled shoes presented a problem. Evira grimaced as she squeezed them over her feet. It had been years since she had worn such shoes, and these were at least one size too small.

Evira worked through the sounds of women coming and going in the bathroom, no longer able to afford the luxury of patience. Hassani was sure to make his entrance soon. When the bathroom was next deserted she slipped out of the supply closet and made straight for the mirror. Everything considered, she didn’t look at all bad except for her hair, which simply didn’t match the part she was trying to play. She picked at it as best she could and hoped she could pass a cursory scrutiny when she returned to the ballroom.

The door to the bathroom opened and Evira turned with a start. A pair of women entered but gave her only passing notice. Avoiding their eyes, she slid out the door.

She could tell already the too-tight heels were going to be a real problem if fast motions were required of her. But she would have to put up with them for now. Returning to the ballroom was unthinkable. She could be recognized by another of the servants or, worse, the gown she had donned might be recognized and her entire plan thrown into shambles.

What she needed was to make use of the nearest route upstairs. The problem was the only stairs Kourosh’s drawings had included necessitated her risking an approach through the ballroom, and those would be too heavily guarded in any event. She moved out of the alcove and turned left instead of making the right that would have taken her back into the ballroom.

Her heart pounded excitedly at the sight of another door. She opened it and breathed easier when she saw a staircase climbing upward for the second floor and the royal chambers where Hassani must still be. It was secluded and would give her room to maneuver even if it were guarded. She realized she was wearing a good disguise, because even the guardsmen would approach her with respect and reverence, not wanting to risk the penalties of insulting an honored guest. That would give her the time she needed to deal with them.

She began her ascent of the staircase, starting to consider now the problem of finding a weapon, when she noticed the shape of the single guardsman on duty on the landing. Suddenly the last pieces of her plan were in place, and Evira approached the guard with a wide, disarming smile. Just as she drew close to him, her right hand shot out in a half fist. In the dim light he never saw the blow coming, and it rammed unimpeded into his Adam’s apple, crushing it. The guard pitched to his knees gasping, still with the sense to claw for his weapon. Evira jammed it to the rug with her foot as she leaned far enough over to smash him across the face with the back of her forearm. The guard fluttered into unconsciousness. Death would come soon, and not wanting to risk letting his corpse be found, Evira dragged him into a darkened alcove on the second floor.

A weapon was hers for the choosing now, and she rejected the rifle in favor of the Soviet-made nine-millimeter Greysa pistol. It was bulky and poorly weighted, but it could be concealed in the back of her gown.

Knowing from Kourosh’s drawing exactly where the royal quarters were located, she cut across the corridor to the head of the wall. Evira trembled with the realization that her target was only a single turn away. She reached the wall and peered around it. Before her, three-quarters of the way down the hall, a pair of armed guards stood vigilantly outside the massive door leading into the royal chambers. Evira eyed the men carefully from her position. They were both armed with automatic rifles, obviously formidable and just as obviously guarding the general himself.

Evira’s heart leaped with expectation. The fact that she had come this far and was so close to the completion of her task, made her almost forget that not only did she have to overcome the guards, but that she must do so without attracting the attention of Hassani within the chambers. The slightest misjudgment or mistake on her part and he would trigger an alarm that would summon the whole of the palace’s security force to this very spot.

Accordingly, her next thought was simply to wait for the general to emerge and to shoot him as he headed for the main staircase. But that plan was fraught with risk, a shot from anything but point blank range with the Greysa not being totally reliable. Moreover, the guards might spot her and prevent her from taking action. No, she had to spring on Hassani where he felt the safest. Wasting no further time, Evira steadied herself and headed around the corner.

She did not bother trying to disguise her presence from the guards; there was no sense in that. Instead she lurched drunkenly down the hallway, wavering from side to side.

“My general,” she called flippantly. “Where is my general? I have come as you told me… .”

She walked straight toward the two guards.

“He sent for me,” she announced to them, tottering on her high heels.

The two guards gazed at each other but neither moved or spoke.

“Tell him I’m here, please,” she requested, as if assuming they knew who she was and had been given notification of her expected arrival. “You’d best hurry. The guests downstairs are growing impatient.”

The next moment was one of doubt, and Evira seized it. The Greysa pistol was in her hand before either guard could notice the motion; not to fire, since that would have given her away to the target within. Instead Evira rammed the heavy pistol’s butt into the bridge of the closest guard’s nose. The man had barely even slumped when she whipped around and struck the second guard across the face with the barrel, opening a nasty gash. He was stunned, but still able to start for his rifle when Evira grasped his head in her free hand. She pinned it long enough to pound his skull twice with the Greysa. She felt him go limp.

Sensing movement, Evira swung back toward the first guard. His face was a sea of blood as he struggled to bring his rifle up, and his mouth was starting to form a warning to the man inside the room. Before any sound could emerge, Evira drove the point of her heel straight into the soft flesh of his throat. The guard was jolted backward, eyes bulging, when she cracked the pistol with all her might into his temple. His body kicked once and then spasmed over on the floor.

Concerned over the sounds of the commotion, Evira hesitated not at all. She steadied the Greysa pistol in one hand as she reached for the door knob with the other.

Chapter 21

THE KNOB WOULDN’T TURN,
the door locked from the inside. Not surprising by any means, but still something she had failed to consider. In her mind she had seen herself plunging straight inside and shooting Hassani on sight, emptying her clip into him. She would have to think of something else now.

The door, like the wall around it, was made of rich, ancient wood. It would be impossible to kick or shoulder through without alerting Hassani to the impending attack. Certainly she could not wait for him to emerge on his own. Evira thought fast. She wiped the sweat from her palm, re-gripped the Greysa, and knocked lightly on the door.

“Message for you, General,” she said, lowering her voice to disguise it as a man’s.

She waited, heard nothing. A dread fear filled her that she had walked into a trap, that either the chambers beyond the heavy door were empty or a host of Revolutionary Guardsmen lay in wait behind it. Still she knocked again.

“General?”

She heard the footsteps first, then an impatient voice from within.

“Coming.” The sounds of locks being turned now. “There better be good reason for this interruption. I was just ready to—”

Evira watched the double doors being pulled back.

“—come down. Now what is—”

She didn’t hesitate. All she saw was a glimpse of Hassani’s face and the bold black-green uniform beneath it. The Greysa came up, and before she knew what she was doing, it was erupting in her hand. The first bullet took the general in the face, obliterating his features. The next pounded his chest as he reeled helplessly backward. Evira pumped a third into his head and a final one dead on line with his heart. She stood over him with the gun still smoking in her hand and knew he was dead, felt the warmth of satisfaction surge through her. In that instant, her life meant nothing, but only that instant, for in the next her ears caught the sounds of guards alerted by the Greysa’s resounding reports.

Her cold resolve had blotted out just how loud the explosions had been. A regiment of guards was already en route in her direction. Evira bolted for the door, still clinging to the Greysa although clearly it could be of little use. Escape was the thing now, the warm rush caused by her successful execution of Hassani cooling under its consideration. Shouts and screams from all levels of the palace echoed through her ears as she passed back into the corridor.

She swung left outside the master chambers instead of right, hoping for a private stairway on this side of the corridor as well. Sure enough there it was, a virtual twin of the one she had ascended to reach Hassani in the first place. Evira bolted toward it and got there just in time to hear the flood of footsteps pouring up it. She had the instant she needed to duck behind the door and keep herself pinned there after it flew open to allow a dozen guardsmen to rush by for the general’s chambers. She planned her next move for the moment they had all passed inside, planned it perfectly, and plunged around the door and onto the steps without being seen.

In seconds more, guards would be posted at all levels, the presence of a killer obvious. For now, though, the steps were hers. She descended fast after pulling off her high heels to quicken her pace. She almost discarded them, then realized their presence would alert the guards that it was a woman they were after. So she held on to the shoes, at least until an opportune time for disposal came about. If she encountered no further guards en route, there was a chance, just a chance, she could find a way out of this. But how? Hiding in the labyrinth of the palace’s design was a possibility. Yet with the building certain to be sealed and an all-out search conducted, that seemed to be only delaying the inevitable. What she needed was a way out of this building.