The Bricklayer - Boyd Noah (читать хорошую книгу полностью .txt) 📗
After a few steps, she remembered the garlic and tried to see if the odor was present, but she couldn’t smell it. In fact, she couldn’t smell anything, not the mustiness of the building or the distinct smells of construction and its crews. Apparently, her sense of smell had shut down. She hoped that the myth about the loss of one sense increasing the others was true. She turned her head to one side and then to the other trying to see into the darkness surrounding them.
Now she was close enough to see the man’s eyes. Although his mouth was covered she tried to recognize him from around the office. He didn’t look familiar. She watched his eyes closely, thinking that if the others were around, he would signal her by shifting them in their direction, but they were locked on her.
Once she got through the office door, she moved quickly to him. Vail stood in the doorway searching the black stillness behind them. She held the knife up to indicate to the man that she was going to free his hands when she noticed that his feet weren’t bound to the chair.
He burst upright and she could now see his hands were free. In his right hand was a revolver. Instinctively she slashed at the hand with the knife in her left hand. The sharp blade tore through the tendons and muscles of his wrist, paralyzing his hand. She felt the sickening resistance as steel struck bone. The gun now hung precariously, dangling from his useless trigger finger, which was caught in the guard.
He started to transfer it to his left hand, but Kate’s right hand was faster. She shoved her automatic against his chest and pulled the trigger twice. He fell to the floor dead.
A burst of automatic-weapons fire raked the office, exploding the windows. Kate felt something slam into her. She spun to the floor and felt the coolness of blood escaping from her side. At the same time, Vail dove to the floor, firing a single shot over her head, putting out the desk lamp. Everything went black. She heard him crawling to her through the shattered glass.
“Are you hit?” he asked in her ear.
“I think so. My side,” she said a little louder than she wanted to.
He slid a little closer and gently put his hand up under her blouse, his fingertips immediately finding the entry wound. Although it stung a great deal, she was reassured by Vail’s hand exploring it. She felt him reach back, identifying the exit hole. “It’s through and through. The bleeding isn’t bad. Looks like it may have bounced off a rib.” He took out his handkerchief and opened it. “Just keep this pressed against both holes.”
She did as instructed, and as with any traumatic wound, her touch made it less threatening.
Vail dragged the dead man over to the wall and leaned him against it on his side. He then pulled Kate over and had her lie next to the body. “That’s an assault rifle. It’ll shoot right through this wall, but I don’t think it’ll get through him too, so stay right here.” He handed her the flashlight and took a coin out of his pocket. “When you hear this quarter land out there, stick your arm straight up and snap the flashlight on and off over the top of the wall. Then pull your arm down even faster.”
Silently Vail maneuvered back to the corner of the office and stood up invisibly in the deep shadows. Kate held her breath, not wanting to miss the sound of the quarter hitting the floor. She understood it was her job to draw fire. It seemed like it was taking Vail forever, and at the same time she hoped she’d never hear the coin land.
But then the quarter struck something metallic. She held the light straight up, even rising from behind the corpse to ensure that the light went over the bottom half of the wall. She snapped it on and off and then pulled herself close behind the body. Immediately automatic fire raked the wall. She felt at least two rounds thud into the body in front of her. Then, illuminated by the flashes of his Glock as he fired three times, Kate saw Vail’s face, stoic, workmanlike, as if he were at the range. She heard a body fall, and then there was nothing but more of the black, horrid silence. She waited a few seconds before asking in a strained whisper, “Is that it?”
“One more,” he answered.
Had Vail seen another man during the exchange? Kate thought back. The door had been jimmied when they arrived, meaning someone was already inside. They had then watched two more arrive, including the “agent.” Two of them were now dead.
Vail took a quick step out of the shadows and dove through the shattered office window. Three gunshots skidded after him. During the brief bursts of light, he was able to locate the gunman and the obstacles that lay between them. He still couldn’t tell whether it was Radek. The shooter was barricaded behind a large wheelbarrow used to haul cement. Vail doubted that one of his rounds would pierce it, especially because of its curved surfaces. But he had spotted something immediately off to the gunman’s left side, a steel beam exposed by the construction work. He needed to get another look at it to confirm the angles of its surfaces. He decided on a position to move to and fired another burst in the general direction of the last gunman to keep his head down.
Once there, he fired again, moving behind a three-foot-high pile of drywall and at the same time noting the steel beam’s details. He was now in a better position for what he was going to attempt.
In the vague blue light coming in the windows, he could see exactly where the beam was and the angle of its surfaces in relation to the final gunman. Quietly, he slid a full magazine into his Glock and stepped from behind the Sheetrock pile. Standing up tall, he took a two-handed grip on the Glock and sighted it on the beam. He started firing slowly, watching the sparking impact of each round on the steel beam, adjusting his aim slightly after each one. The slugs ricocheted closer and closer to the man’s position. Finally one hit him, causing him to grunt deeply. Somewhere in the torso or legs, Vail judged. He moved his point of aim higher on the beam, and the gunman, realizing he had nowhere to go, reached his hand up over the wheelbarrow and fired blindly, trying to get Vail to stop shooting. Vail took aim at his hand and fired one round, striking either the hand or the arm. He stepped back behind the drywall stack and shoved another magazine into his automatic. The sound of sirens racing toward them now penetrated the building. For once, the troops had arrived at the right time.
He knew that with his quarry wounded, he could simply walk toward him and shoot intermittently until he was safely over him, then take him into custody if he chose to surrender. If not, killing him was not a disagreeable alternative. Vail took a single step and then heard a shotgun racking a shell into the chamber. He turned and dove back behind the drywall. The gunman fired three blasts and then Vail could hear him moving toward the elevator. He started to look over the stack of building material when another explosion of double-aught buck slammed into the front edge of Vail’s concealment.
The elevator opened and Vail stood up to fire. He caught a glimpse of the man dragging his bleeding leg into it and fired one more shot into the car just before the doors closed. Vail didn’t know if he had hit him. He considered looking for the stairs, but by now the building was surrounded. And running around with a gun in his hand didn’t seem like a good idea. More important, Kate needed attention. Her wound hadn’t looked bad, but he had examined it in the dark. He hurried over to her. “He’s gone,” he told her.
Kate stood up, still pressing Vail’s handkerchief to her side. He took the flashlight from her and checked the wound. “Will I live?” she said, forcing a smile.
He dabbed at the wounds analytically and then had her again hold the handkerchief against them. “Unfortunately, deputy assistant directors are not that easy to kill.”
