Cliff Ryder - Out of Time

He ran at a crouch, covering the ground very quickly. He gained the back of the parking lot, slid beneath a small parked truck and paused, waiting for the camera to finish its eastward sweep, and begin scanning west again. Once he was clear, he began a carefully timed passage, using the vehicles as shields. At one point, the security squad passed within a few yards of him as he clung to the under-side of a large sport utility vehicle. He moved cautiously and methodically, not allowing himself to think about consequences, only about timing.

His legs had begun to hurt again and the rush of adrenaline had only drawn attention to that fact. He was keenly aware of every inch of his body, how badly it ached, and that he had lost some strength in his legs. No matter. He had come too far to go back.

Liang had taken a long-range digital photo of their target. While they waited for the evening shift to change, he’d visited his contact with the photo in hand, and acquired the information they needed.

Roy Boswell was a mercenary captain. He’d been brought in as part of the private military outfit and commanded a squad of twelve. Six of his men patrolled the exterior of the complex, and six were on internal duty. He drove a midsized black sedan, license number OB 0702. Liang had been able to spot the correct vehicle, and Alex had mentally marked its location.

Unfortunately, the car he sought was in the next-to-last row of the parking lot. Alex had to pass through four rows of cars and dodge three cameras in order to reach it. He watched the cameras, counting as they made three sweeps. The lights were fixed, able to be moved only when there was an emergency, and then only with a great deal of effort. Again it struck him how average the security precautions seemed to be. It made no sense, and it worried him.

Alex watched that first camera shift to the east, and then made his final move. He slipped in between his target and another car and flattened himself against the driver’s door as he pulled out a small lock pick. The car might well be unlocked, but if it was locked and the alarm had been set, he could easily set it off by trying the door handle. He pulled another small object from yet another pocket and smiled.

He aimed the remote at the car, pressing and holding the only button on the thing. It was designed to continually fire an encoded signal at the car, until it reached the proper frequency and shut down the alarm and unlocked the doors. Not even the horn would let off the usual telltale beep.

The device would have been useless to him without that—the noise would most likely bring an entire squad down on his head. There were few acceptable risks on this kind of mission.

He peered in through the window and watched the dashboard. No blinking red light, no alarm.

He shoved the remote back into its pocket and went to work on the lock. Within seconds, he had the door open and was inside the car, stretched out flat on the backseat. There was a good deal of debris on the floor, including a large newspaper and various food wrappers. He memorized the position of each one, then picked them up and piled them on the seat. Once he had stretched out on the floor, he placed the debris on top of himself, in roughly the same position it had been. It wasn’t perfect, but unless someone was looking, they were unlikely to notice his presence. It was a large car, and he curled up as close to the backs of the driver and passenger seats as possible.

Then, he waited.

The light that fell into the car was yellow and dim. It certainly wasn’t good enough to allow someone to see Alex’s black clothing on the dark carpet inside the car. The guard jingled his keys as he approached, unlocking his door quickly and slipping into the driver’s seat. Alex remained still, waiting.

All he could see from the floor of the car was scenery that passed by and the back of the guard’s head. If he had any hope of signaling Liang, he would have to place the light against the window to avoid letting light flash across the glass. He reached up, the small flashlight clutched tightly in his right hand. For a moment, he feared he would drop it as his hand began to tremble. Then the trembling stopped as quickly as it had started and he placed the lens against the glass, flashing it twice. He hoped that Liang was paying attention.

He had never worked with this asset before, so he had no idea how detail oriented the man was. If the situations had been reversed, Alex would have had the binoculars trained on Liang every single moment he had been inside that fence.

The car made several turns and then drove deeper and deeper into the city. Alex prayed that the guard would make no stops along the way, and his prayers were answered. From his vantage point on the floor, Alex could make out a tall building, probably an apartment complex. The car stopped.

Alex tensed. The parking brake groaned as the guard engaged it.

Alex leaped up off the floor. He held a length of very thin piano wire stretched taunt between his gloved hands. He let his mind blank—no room for hesitation or compassion. Before the guard could cry out, the garrote bit deep, and Alex flexed his muscled arms, yanking hard.

Legs flailed and hands clawed at Alex’s face, but the struggle was brief and feeble. A small band of blood marked the man’s neck most of the way around, and during it all, Alex was aware of Liang’s car pulling in next to them.

The guard went limp and Alex felt for a pulse while keeping the wire taut around his neck.

Finding no sign of life, he released the wire and balled it up, ready to shove it back into his pocket once he had wiped it clean. Then he flashed the light twice at Liang and pushed open the back door.

Alex stumbled out of the backseat of the sedan. He still gripped the garrote tightly, and he realized that though he’d released his grip with his left hand, his right still clutched the wire. Searing pain lanced through his palm, and no matter how he concentrated, he could not force his fingers free of the wire. He stood, staring dumbly at the dangling wire, and Liang stepped up beside him.

“You all right?” the big man asked.

Alex nodded. He turned toward the car, trying to shield his clawed hand by the motion, and in that moment his grip released. His hand fluttered, beyond his control, but at least he was able to release the garrote. Liang watched him closely.

“We can take some time, if you need it,” he said.

“No, there isn’t time,” Alex said. “I’m fine.”

Liang looked unconvinced, and suddenly Alex grew angry. He was angry with his body, angry at his hand, angry at Denny and MRIS and the world.

He wasn’t angry at Liang, but the big man took the brunt of it anyway.

“We need to get this car safely moved near your place, and we need to make this body disappear. I have more planning to do, and the one thing I don’t have is time,” he snapped.

Liang’s usually jovial face closed down a notch, but he nodded.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Vance.”

Alex felt stricken, and despite the cultural divide, he laid a hand on the big man’s shoulder.

Liang glanced at it, noticed the trembling and met Alex’s gaze steadily.

“I’ll be okay,” he said, softening his voice, “and I’m sorry.”

Liang nodded. “You are not inexperienced at this, Mr. Vance, so you will understand my concern. If you are unwell, perhaps it would be best—”

“No!” Alex said. “The mission must be completed. It’s just stress, Liang. I’ll manage.”

Liang stared at him for another long moment, then nodded. “Let’s wrap Mr. Boswell’s neck so he doesn’t get too messy and get him into the back of my car. You drive his and follow me. I’ll show you where to leave it—safe and out of sight. I’m going to have some people go over it, make sure you have a secure way to get what you need through the main gates without detection.”