Raymond Khoury - The Sanctuary

“They’re in the car,” he replied grimly. Being an American was viewed with a sharply increased degree of suspicion in the tense city, and “economic counselor” was getting to be right up there with “cultural attaché” as shorthand for CIA. A telltale bulge from a handgun — which people in this town were more likely to spot than the citizens of, say, Corleone — was definitely taunting fate. Which is why the Glock and the Ruger stayed in a locked compartment in the Jeep unless it looked as if the situation really called for one, or both. This hadn’t looked like that kind of situation.

Notch up another one for hindsight.

Corben scanned the kitchen. It was tucked off to one side, away from the living room, and had a glass door that led out to a small balcony. A tall, freestanding fridge, an older, heavier model, was next to the door, with Formica counters and cabinets along one wall. He crossed over to the edge of the room and looked out. He noted that the kitchen’s balcony door had no curtains or blinds. Which didn’t really matter. He’d already decided it would be their fallback position. He pulled out Evelyn’s file and handed it to Mia. She glanced at it curiously and looked him a question.

“Stay here and hang on to this for me,” he told her. “Close the door behind me and keep it shut until I get back.” He headed out, stabbing a finger at the balcony door. “And keep that door open.”

Mia tried to object, but the words dried up in her mouth.

Corben saw how shaken she was and paused. “We’ll get through this,” he added firmly, his eyes hard with conviction. She managed a reluctant, scarcely perceptible nod before he rushed out of the room.

Mia closed the door, her heartbeat pounding loudly in her ears. She turned and looked down the kitchen, at the balcony beyond, then her eyes dropped to the file in her hands.

She stared at it for a moment with nervous curiosity, then opened it.

Outside, Corben moved fleetly through the darkness and reached the front door. He looked through the peephole just as the elevator outside gave off a barely audible snap as its door-locking mechanism released. He knew there wasn’t any risk of them spotting any movement behind the lens or coming from under the door, as the room behind him wasn’t lit.

He heard the metal grille inside the elevator creak open, and two of the men he’d watched in the street stepped out. He realized the third man was still downstairs, keeping watch. These men were pros. They knew what they were doing. He tensed up even more with the thought.

He observed them as the pockmarked man Mia had described from the bar hit the light switch and glanced around the landing.

Satisfied that they weren’t about to be interrupted, they turned to face the door to Evelyn’s apartment. Corben flexed his fingers and felt his muscles tighten as each killer pulled out a 9mm automatic, rolled a silencer into place, and chambered a round. The pockmarked man nodded to his underling to go ahead.

Corben breathed in deeply and slid back to one side of the door. He’d be hidden behind it as it opened. He leaned right back, pressed against the wall. He closed his eyes for the briefest of moments, getting them more accustomed to the darkness around him.

The door squealed lightly with an exploratory tug. There was no sound of keys slipping into the lock. The killers evidently didn’t have them. Corben gritted his teeth and waited for it. A second later, a half dozen successive coughs from one of the silenced automatics were echoed by the loud bursts of bullets chewing through the wood of the door and obliterating the door lock. Corben raised a hand to shield his face as splinters and shards of steel ricocheted around the small hallway. A faint smell of charred wood and gunpowder drifted up to his nose.

He stiffened as the door creaked open and swung slowly towards him, and watched with rapt attention as a silencer appeared, hovering in midair. It glided deeper into the entrance hall, followed by the rest of the gun and the jacketed arm of the first of the killers.

Corben went for it, and everything suddenly raced into fast-forward.

With rapierlike agility, Corben lunged at the man and grabbed him by the wrist, yanking him into the room while using his back to slam the door shut behind him.

He twisted on himself and used the man’s own momentum to spin him around and slam him into the back of the door, thereby blocking it. A wild round went off from the silenced gun, the spark from its muzzle lighting up the intruder’s twisted face, which was bloodied from his encounter with the door. Corben knew he didn’t have more than a second or two before the pockmarked man outside reacted and tried to barge through. He kept one hand gripped on the killer’s wrist, pinning the gun against the door, and used the other to drive a crushing punch to his lower back, striking him in the kidney.

The man gasped out heavily under the blow. His hand lost its hold of the gun, which clattered across the floor. Corben felt the man’s muscles slacken and grabbed his chance, sidestepping away from the door in the opposite direction while pulling the killer fully across the door just as several bursts of gunfire bit through the wood and raked through the intruder. He held on to the man’s arm and felt his body shudder and writhe from the bullets cutting through him, then let go. The man’s body collapsed onto the floor in a heavy thud and just lay there, motionless, emitting a wheezing gurgle, blocking the door.

Corben caught his breath and skulked by the door, listening intently in the deathly silence. The man outside called out, “Fawwaz?”

“He’s dead, asshole,” Corben shouted back, “and you’re next. I’ve got his gun.”

Which wasn’t exactly true. Not yet, anyway.

Corben scowled and waited tensely for an answer, but nothing came back. Thin shafts of light from the landing were streaming in through the bullet holes in the door, casting a soft, ethereal glow on the entrance hall and the dead body. Corben looked around, searching for the gun, his mind running through his options. None of them was particularly promising. Abruptly, the little light there was vanished. The timer in the landing had just kicked in, and the killer outside made no effort to switch it back on. Instead, Corben heard him yell out another name, “Wasseem,” followed by a barked order that echoed eerily down the stairwell. The pockmarked shooter outside was probably telling the third man to come up and join in.

The more, the merrier.

Not.

Corben urgently scoured the darkness for the dead man’s weapon. He couldn’t find it at first, then spotted it on the far side of the hallway from him, facing the door and anyone coming in. Getting it would be risky. Corben would be completely exposed if he attempted it.

As he mulled whether to go for it, he heard rapid footfalls echoing up the stairwell and knew it would be seconds before he’d again be facing the killers’ two-to-one advantage — with the two sporting automatics, as opposed to his meager kitchen knife. He realized he had to make a move. He bolted from the wall and dived for the gun just as the killer outside kicked the door in. The dead man’s body was blocking the door. The killer outside shoved the door inwards, pushing his friend’s corpse farther back into the room while reaching in and unleashing a barrage of gunfire that exploded all around Corben. Corben’s fingers reached the fallen gun just as several bullets bounced off the floor beside him. He managed to grab it and leapt out of the room, more shots splattering the jambs of the doorway inches from him.

He rushed through the darkened living room and ducked for cover behind Evelyn’s desk as several bullets crunched into its oak carcass. He peered out and unleashed a brief volley of his own, forcing the killer to duck behind the doorway. They were no more than fifteen feet apart. The living room was bathed in darkness, making it hard for either of them to get a clear shot at the other. Corben, at least, had the advantage of knowing the layout of the apartment. It would buy him a few extra seconds, which he needed if he was going to make it back to Mia.