The Sixth Day (A Brit in the FBI #5)(95)

Nicholas took the rope out of her hand. “Mike, back off, I’m going in first. I was the one hanging off a roof, not you. I deserve a reward.”

She couldn’t help it, she grinned at him. He looked dangerous and pissed off. He flashed a light into the darkness below them. All was quiet. “If Adam’s plans are correct, below the skylight is a library.”

He pulled his weapon into place across his chest and went down the rope, hand over hand. Mike did the same, and Gareth came last. Mike heard his sharp intake of breath, knew his hands had to hurt. She thought of the bleeding wound in Nicholas’s side. She kept quiet and rappelled.

They landed lightly on a hardwood floor. Nicholas flashed his light on the walls. They were in a massive room, every wall covered with floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with books, thousands of them.

Once they’d crept out of the library, the house looked different. Nicholas whispered, “They must have had work done since Adam’s blueprints.”

“Yes, but the aviary still has to be to the west, stairs to the lab to the east, down one floor.”

Gareth said, “Wait, do you hear something?”

They heard a low shriek. “The aviary,” Mike said, “there must still be birds in there.”

Gareth said, “They’re safe enough. The fire is outside. They must be scared. The stairs are ahead. I wish there was a separate set, I hate to go down the main staircase like this.”

“No choice,” Nicholas said, “so let’s do it.”

They stuck to the walls, inching down the stairs, one step at a time, guns held at the ready across their chests. They heard another cry, getting louder.

“That’s not a bird,” Nicholas said. “That’s a person. It sounds like someone’s keening.”

Gareth put a hand on Nicholas’s shoulder. “Shh. Listen.”

There were words now, but they couldn’t understand them.

“What language is that?”

Mike said, “I don’t know. Ardelean is Romanian.”

Nicholas was shaking his head. “It’s not Romanian. It’s not like any language I’ve ever heard before.”

Faintly, in the background, they heard an all-too-familiar sound—the unmistakable metal snick of a magazine being slammed into a gun.

Before anyone could react, bullets sprayed the staircase.





CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN


They ducked. It seemed like forever before silence came again. “There,” Nicholas said, “that’s the final spray, that’s the whole magazine. Go!”

They charged down the stairs, Nicholas in the lead, spraying three-round bursts. At the bottom of the stairs they took cover behind statues, all in marble and bronze. The hall fell eerily silent again. The gunman was biding his time.

Mike said quietly into her comms, “Ben, are you scanning the house? What’s thermal saying?”

“Having a hard time. If I didn’t know better I’d say the place is lined in lead. We’re barely getting readings, but it looks like three bodies to your east. Other side of the wall from where you are.”

She heard Nicholas say, “Hold on,” and then a clatter. Immediately, gunfire opened up again, spraying the room. This time, Mike could see where the shots originated.

“The wall in the corner—there’s a freaking weapon hanging from the ceiling.

Nicholas said, “And it’s automated, on a motion sensor. I’ll throw another canister. When I do, you two bolt for the hallway.”

“What’s to say there won’t be another gun?”

“Probably is, we’ll have to take each room as we go. Three, two, one, break.”

There was a clatter, and the weapon went off in a flash of light. Mike ran, hard, toward the darkness, pulling up short just inside the hallway. No new guns went off.

She said, “We might be in luck. I see light at the end of the hallway.”

“Anyone with ears knows we’re here,” Gareth said. “Whatever, or whoever, is behind that door is going to be pretty angry when we blow through.”

Mike gave him a mad grin. “Let’s go.”

Carefully, they duck-walked down the hallway, silent as they could be, all geared up. Mike could smell blood, knew it was Nicholas and Gareth, and worried. But then they were at the door, and Gareth placed two explosives on the hinges.

“Biometric locks. Hopefully, this door isn’t all steel.”

Nicholas said, “Only one way to find out. Behind me, both of you. Go, go, go.” They ducked and covered their ears, and he hit the trigger on the charge.

The door blew inward. It took Mike’s eyes moment to adjust before her ears registered the screaming.

The man charged them out of nowhere, an automatic weapon in his hands, spraying bullets. He passed through their sight so fast Mike didn’t shoot back, afraid she might hit Isabella.

Nicholas continued firing through the open doorway, Mike crouched behind him. she heard a cry. “Gareth, you’re hit?”

He was crawling to the safety of the hallway just outside the blown door. “Grazed my leg. Go on, I’ll be right behind you.”

Mike stepped to the side of the doorway, went down on her knees to cover Nicholas. She saw the man who’d charged at them crouched to the left of the door, ready to shoot again the moment Nicholas cleared the doorway and came into the room. His hair was white blond, and his teeth were bared in fury. He saw Nicholas and lurched up and into the open, his weapon high, too high, and Nicholas shot him in the chest. He staggered back, but didn’t fall.