“Fuck that noise!” she laughed as she skipped back to grab hold of the push broom’s handle. Some delinquent construction worker left it for her, leaning it up against the wall. She gripped the pole tightly and drove her heel against the spot it screwed into the bristle head. Wood cracked and split.
Suddenly, she had herself a makeshift quarterstaff.
His eyes flashed wide then the blunt end of the broom handle connected with his Adam’s apple in a sharp jab. He choked and stumbled back.
Darius tried to fend off the pole with one hand as the other went to his throat. He attempted to call out but only managed a weak croak.
Trish spun and whipped the staff against the fingers of his outstretched hand, breaking three. He squeaked and yanked his broken hand back as his good one reached for the darting broom handle. His croaking got louder, so Trish struck his throat once more with the blunt end of her weapon.
He gasped and finally caught the end of the pole with his uninjured hand. Trish used his grip to brace herself while she dropped and spun in to deliver a vicious heel strike to the side of the knee on his planted leg. As it was carrying his weight, it gave with a sharp, tearing pop. He staggered and lost his grip on the broom handle.
Trish spun the shaft and jabbed the jagged, splintered end into his right eye. She was rewarded with a high pitched wheeze as the orb popped.
Blinded and in intense pain, Darius staggered forward, and she threw herself down and under his sweeping grab. She rolled behind him and thrust the blunt end of the stick back towards Darius. It struck his inner thigh and quickly slid upwards to catch him in the balls.
With a pained grunt, he collapsed to his knees and fell forward, bouncing once on the dusty concrete. He slipped under the 2 x 4 boards bolted across the opening of an elevator shaft. His forward momentum made him begin to slide into the opening. At the last second, he frantically hooked his arm around the wall next to the opening, as the rest of his body slipped over the lip. He clung to the wall with all his strength.
Trish climbed to her feet as she looked to Darius struggling to keep from falling into the shaft. “Shit,” she sighed. She’d intended on beating him unconscious, but now she was stuck. He was too heavy for her to pull up and if she called for the guard, he’d shoot her.
“Help me…” Milonas croaked. The arm he’d braced against the wall was the one without broken fingers, but his leg on that side had torn knee ligaments. He couldn’t use it to pull himself up. When he tried, he loosened his arm’s precarious grip. He was gasping and sputtering as his grip began to slip in the dust.
She looked down into his desperate eye and thought of the lives he’d probably destroyed. He was no longer her primary concern. “No.”
Trish sprinted back to the table and pulled the gun from the pocket of his jacket. She knew how to shoot, but she wasn’t a crack shot like Catherine. She wished the tall blonde was here with her. She ducked down behind the chair covered by the jacket. It blocked the view of her from the opening in the plastic sheeting. She looked over to where Darius struggled to climb out of the shaft. She could see the desperation and terror in his remaining eye.
With a sudden puff of dust, his grip on the floor slipped, and his head disappeared as he dropped away.
His scream was surprisingly high pitched, but it cut off suddenly.
Trish watched the opening in the plastic with the gun held out before her in both hands. The guard slipped through the gap, his machine gun clutched tightly in his hands.
Her shot was deafening from under the table, but the guard dropped bonelessly as the bullet punched through his heart.
Trish waited a second then rushed forward to collect the machine gun.
This was a first for her. She’d actually killed a man, two if she counted Milonas. She knew she’d beaten Eli Sturn unconscious, but the blow that killed him hadn’t come from her hand. Maybe she could consider Milonas the same as Sturn, but looking down at the dead guard’s body, she couldn’t deny this guy was her first deliberate kill. She didn’t want to do anymore. That said, she didn’t want the others to come to investigate but how could she stop them?
-=-
When the guard’s lifeless body hit the sidewalk like a bag of wet cement, the goons standing by the cars jumped for cover. When no further bodies fell, they slowly came out and stared at the broken and twisted thing.
Then they looked up.
The crazy redhead with the big tits was waving at them with the guard’s weapon in her hand. They ran for cover again. A quick discussion behind the vehicle and they all agreed. Darius must be dead. The scream they’d heard earlier must have been him, not the redhead as they’d all assumed.
It was time to leave.
-=-
Trish watched the cars quickly head for the gate and collect their colleague before driving away. She walked back to Darius’ jacket and found his cell. It was locked, but she’d be able to make an emergency call. She wasn’t going to put Ben at risk as he still had at least one gunman and the blonde bitch watching him. She’d trust Ben to take care of himself.
She couldn’t tell the police where Ben had gone so she’d have to play dumb. She unzipped her top a little more and tugged down her sports bra to make her girls bulge upwards.
Now she was ready.
She hoped Ben was safe.
-=-
The bank’s architecture was imposing, and Ben was finding himself distracted by the arches, high ceilings, and antique moldings. The vault was huge, and his engineering instincts were tingling like mad. He was also nervous for Trish, but he had to trust that she could take care of herself and keep out of trouble until he could return to her.
When they’d arrived at the bank, only Liliya and Ben had gone inside. The silver SUV with its driver and armed escort would wait to take them back. As they’d walked, Ben glanced over at Liliya, trying to get a read on the tall blonde. Undeniably lovely, she moved… like Trish; like power held in check. This didn’t detract too much from the image of elegance she was striving to portray; most people would end their assessment at her beauty. Ben, however, was surrounded by beauty and looked closer. Her long red leather coat and tall boots hid her body, but her movements suggested her svelte form was all muscle. He wondered if the circumstances were different, would she and Trish share enough interests to find some common ground.
Once inside, he introduced himself and Liliya to the clerk responsible for managing the safe deposit boxes. Ben showed his documentation as Walter instructed. After a tedious period of reading and signing documents, the clerk finally escorted them into the vault. Now, they used their keys to open the locks, and the clerk pulled a long box from the compartment and handed it to Ben.
Liliya shared a glance with Ben then followed the clerk to a private room to view the contents. Once they were alone, they looked at the long metal box on the table before them. Ben saw the slightest tremble run through Liliya’s body. She reached for the lid, but he pressed a big hand down on it as his eyes caught hers.
“Is Trish going to be safe when we bring back the ledger?” he asked.
Something flashed in her eyes and his gut clenched. She was afraid. Not of Ben, but for Trish.
“We should return, soon,” she answered quietly. Ben heard the warning and lifted his hand. She reached for the lid again. “Rainor did not like paper. Will be memory stick,” she said. Her accent was getting thicker with her tension.
“How well did you know Rainor?” Ben asked.
She paused, looking at the tension in Ben’s jaw. “Well enough to know how he worked… and how he fucked. Not well enough to know he had wife. Darius say stay close to him. He wanted to be sure Rainor would not do what he did do. I read him wrong. I… paid for mistake. So many mistakes.” Her expression was bleak before she caught herself and forced the stiff smile back in place.
Ben sighed. Damn, she was another woman in distress. For Trish’s sake, he was going to have to look the other way. Trish was his only priority.
Liliya lifted the lid and reached in to pull out some rolled bundles of paper. After a cursory glance, she handed them to Ben.
He looked closer and saw they were deeds. He accepted the last of them from Liliya’s hands as she went back to searching the box. He read the titles of the papers, and there were seven separate deeds for property in Germany, France, Hong Kong, Singapore, Russia, England, and the US. He’d have to do a little research on the addresses, but he was likely looking at a sizable fortune in real estate.
Liliya made a sound of relief. She pulled her hand out of the box holding a tiny silver object. It had a USB connector so she’d found the memory stick.
“Is that it? Can we go?” he asked, conscious of how long they’d been away from Trish.
Liliya pulled a small tablet from an inner pocket of her jacket. She turned it on, and once it was booted, she connected the memory stick.
When the folder opened, it showed a series of image file icons. There was nothing else on the stick.
“Images? Shouldn’t a digital ledger be a spreadsheet or a document file?” Ben asked.
Liliya glanced nervously at Ben and nodded stiffly. She tentatively double tapped on the first icon, and the tablet opened the image file.
She gasped as she stared at the screen in shock.