“Nah, I looked while Riv was playing Florence Nightingale to our Brian there,” Kerry said. “Everything you see is all there is to this place, plus the basement.”
“This sure is a weird-ass building. Don’t they have fire regulations here?
“You Americans just aren’t used to old buildings,” Riv commented.
“Whatever. Let’s get to work.”
It wasn’t long before Kerry and River were slithering through the small hole Layla had left in the mostly blocked front opening, just so they could get back in. And while she and Brian then worked to plug that, as well, with materials they’d already prepared for that purpose, the other two reported how they’d tried to circle around behind the building, to check for another door, but had found their way blocked by a police investigation that had sealed off the alley at both ends.
“That’s awfully convenient,” Layla commented.
“Yes, and we have more,” Kerry mock-enthused. “There was a quite a crowd, including a few people who’d spoken to the person who was unfortunate enough to have found the body of a woman who’d been very brutally killed, her head practically torn off. And guess what color hair she had?”
“Blond,” Layla and Brian intoned together.
“Sakal’s losing his bodyguards fast,” Layla said. “You think he killed her, left her there for someone to find? Maybe even had one of the guards clue in someone, who then rushed off for a look and reported it to the police?”
“Too many questions,” Kerry answered. “And the answer’s yes to most of them, but . . . does that mean there’s no one in the basement?”
Right on cue, a sudden whoosh of sound had them all turning to stare at the floor display above the elevator door.
“Well, shit,” Brian muttered. “Guess that’s our ride. I just hope it’s not filled with more bodyguards.”
They all checked ammo, then guns ready, waited while the damn thing made its slow way upward, and the door finally opened on . . . an empty elevator car. They stared, until Layla said, “All aboard, I guess,” and they walked inside.
With more than enough space for the four of them, they spread out, in unspoken understanding, so that they could all fire without worrying about hitting one another. It didn’t take long, since the damn elevator didn’t have to drop more than twenty feet, and that was being generous. Like the others, Layla had her weapon up when the doors opened onto a dark basement, but again there was no one waiting for them.
They stepped out to concrete walls and floor, and a hall—no more than sixteen feet long—that only went in one direction—left. At the end were two doors. The one on the right was an ordinary pedestrian door, with better locks than usual. But the leftward door was far more interesting. It was a vault, just like the one she knew existed in the basement of the Fortalesa’s vampire wing. She’d never actually seen it, but she knew it was there, and she’d overheard it being described by a friend of her mother’s in very disappointing tones, as a bank vault. And that was exactly what this looked like. Hell, maybe that’s why Sakal had chosen this building. Save some money on his hiding place.
Unfortunately, it was . . . Layla pulled on the door and jumped back when it responded by moving an inch or two outward.
“What the fuck?” she whispered, and glanced at Brian to find him regarding the door as if it was a live snake coiled to attack.
“Why would they leave that open?” he whispered back. “It has to be a trap.”
She nodded in silent agreement, but they had to take a look. Turning, she studied the other, more ordinary door, then looked at Riv, who was closest to it. “See if you can get through that lock.”
“Piece of cake,” he said confidently, then knelt and pulled out a small zippered case, which held a set of lock picks.
Layla and the others took a few steps back and spread out. There was a strong possibility that one or more of Sakal’s guards was waiting behind that ordinary door, ready to die for their master. But if that was true, then where was Sakal? He sure as hell wouldn’t risk himself to take out Layla and her people. Not when he’d be too dead to enjoy it. But the vault was open, so where the fuck was he?
“Captain.” She looked over at the sound of Riv’s voice, when he stood and said, “It’s done.”
“All right. Usual precautions. Everyone stand back.” She reached for the collapsible baton at her belt, but Riv beat her to it, snapping his own baton open as he took up a position on one side of the door. He waited until everyone else signaled ready, and then with his back to the wall, he reached out with one hand, gently turned the door knob, and with the same hand, used the baton to push it open about a foot.
Again nothing. Layla was beginning to think the whole damn place was empty.
Riv shoved the baton again, harder, until they could feel warm air rushing in through the open door. “Nothing there, Cap,” he said.
“Let’s see what’s behind it, but slowly.”
Riv didn’t move away from his safe position against the wall, but stowed the baton and stretched out his arm, giving the door a hard shove with his hand. When it swung to a full right angle position, he crouched low and rolled through the doorway, moving fast, and coming up with his MP5 in position.
Layla was right behind him, her own weapon up and ready to cover him, if necessary. “It’s a damn garage,” she said. “Look at the door.”
“You can smell it, too,” River said. “Hot tires and diesel. I bet the bastard left hours ago.”
“In daylight?”
“Why not? He’s got his team of bodyguards to move him around, and if they have the right vehicle, he’s in no danger. Not from the sun anyway.”
“Well, shit,” she hissed, then stepped back and over to the vault. “I bet this damn thing’s empty, too.”
“Let’s not bet on that,” Brian said, stopping her before she could pull the door all the way open. “Tactics 101, Cap.”
“Yeah, yeah. Standard entry. You and me.” She glanced at the others who didn’t need to be told what to do. They moved to covering positions automatically, while Brian waited for her signal, then she pulled the door open and together they ran inside in a lethal rush. Or it would have been lethal, if anyone had been there to die.
The vault was on the small side, just big enough to hold an unkempt bed that stretched from wall to wall, and left a bare slice of room to maneuver along its foot.