No Fortunate Son (Pike Logan, #7)(43)

Without a word, Jennifer went back the way they’d come, pausing between the last two hallway doors, with an eye on the entrance. She felt the adrenaline rise and considered how she’d stop anyone from entering. Prevent them from seeing Pike. The tension mounted until it was almost unbearable, making her want to shout down the hallway and ask if Pike was building the lock from the ground up.

She heard a whistle from him and raced back down the hallway. She said, “What the hell were you doing? Filing a key from an imprint?”

He opened the door and said, “I’m rusty. Sorry.”

They found a room with a utilitarian metal desk and at least a dozen file cabinets. Clearly, Mr. Ling did more than just landlord. Pike said, “Jesus. We don’t have the time for this.”

Jennifer said, “It’s got to be in some order. Ignore anything that doesn’t have the address on it.”

Pike pulled open the first cabinet and the door flew open.

Jennifer whirled at the noise and saw two men, both with a black three-day growth of beard. One had a receding hairline and a tangle of long hair in a ponytail; the other had buckteeth that made him look as if he were wearing novelty dentures. Overbite pulled out a pistol, and she saw the suppressor on the barrel.

Not local thugs.





28




Overbite trained the weapon on Pike and said, “Hands up. No movement.”

The accent was hard to place, but it wasn’t from the UK. Somewhere from Eastern Europe.

Pike did as he asked, moving slow and deliberate. Behind the two men, the Asian from outside entered with a smirk on his face.

Pike said, “Hey, wait. This isn’t what it looks like. We aren’t stealing anything. We’re just trying to locate a lost friend.”

Overbite said, “I don’t give a shit what you’re doing. I’m just happy you broke in here. Makes my job of killing you that much easier for the police investigation.”

Jennifer said, “Wait, wait. We haven’t done anything. This is just a misunderstanding.”

The Asian said, “Kill him. Sell her. I split the profits with you.”

Pike closed the distance to them, getting in range of the pistol. He said, “You don’t want to do this. You’re making a mistake.”

Overbite said, “You have one chance to live. One question. And one answer. You answer correctly, and you get to walk out of here. You don’t, and you’re dead.”

Hands raised, Pike said, “What is it? I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“Besides you, who knows about Bulgari in Paris?”

Jennifer heard the words and thought she was in a bad TV movie. What in the world is he talking about?

The man continued, “You tell me the leak, and you can walk. Otherwise, you’ll die. And I don’t mean quietly.”

Pike’s eyes watered, his voice pathetic, his hands trembling. “Please, please, don’t harm us. I can’t kill both of you. Without help, I’m no threat.”

The man with the pistol looked confused by his words, but Jennifer knew exactly what Pike meant. She floated forward, closing the distance to Ponytail, ignoring the Asian, waiting on the move.

Overbite said, “Get on your knees.” He motioned to the other man and said, “Get her under control.”


Pike lowered himself down, not looking at Jennifer at all. Giving no indication of his intentions, yet she had no doubt that there was about to be a cyclone of violence. And she had a part.

Ponytail approached, and she knelt down as well, watching Pike. Waiting on the explosion. The man sidled next to her, pulled out a pistol of his own, also with a suppressor. He watched Overbite, the leader. Ignoring her, he used the weapon alone as the threat for compliance.

Pike began pleading, his voice sounding pitiful, amazing Jennifer. “Please. Don’t hurt us. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have no idea. I’m here looking for a friend. Please, dear God, don’t kill us.”

Overbite advanced and placed the barrel directly on Pike’s forehead, the suppressor embedded into the skin. Death inches away. Close enough to negate the very reason pistols were invented.

He said, “You’re a long way from your friend. Trust me, I know. Last chance. You don’t answer, and I’ll rape the girl in front of you, then kill you both.”

Looking him dead in the eyes, the barrel still buried in his forehead, Pike snarled, “I doubt that.”

He jerked his head down and to the right and the weapon went off, the soft pfft of the bullet embedding harmlessly into the wall over his shoulder. Pike slapped his hands forward, trapping the pistol before it had even cycled another round. He twisted it upward, locking Overbite’s wrists against the frame and causing the man to scream. Controlling the weapon with one hand, Pike hammered a rabbit punch into the man’s kidneys, then twisted the barrel until it was aimed at Overbite’s chest.

The action occurred so quickly that even Jennifer was surprised. Before Ponytail could register what had happened, she sprang to her feet and drove a palm strike into his face, splitting his nose. She wrapped her arm over his gun hand as he fell back shouting, trying to get her off him. He pulled the trigger and the round shattered the window in the door.

He kneed her in the groin, bringing her to the floor with a starburst of pain. She lost control of the weapon. He swung it around, and she slapped the barrel a second time, the bullet snapping by her head like a wasp. She punched him in the gut as hard as she could, causing an explosion of air. She grabbed the pistol again, fighting for control. He began squeezing the trigger, the rounds cycling by her head and stitching the roof.