Alex Archer - Labyrinth

“Results oriented,” Annja said.

“Results, yes. I firebombed a cosmetics factory that had been testing its products on animals and flushing toxic waste into the drinking supply of a small village in Cambodia. And when that building was reduced to ashes, I went after—and got—the people who owned it.”

“How?” Annja asked, buying time as she tried to think how to extricate herself from this situation.

“I made them drink the poison sludge they’d been spewing for decades into the drinking water. Unfortunately for them, the concentration was so much higher than the water normally held. I guess they came to see that the stuff they used to make cosmetics with wasn’t healthy.”

“And what happened to the people who were employed by the factory? How are they supposed to make a living now?”

Greene shrugged. “They’ll find a way. Their welfare isn’t my concern. If anything, they ought to be thankful to me for cleaning up their water. But they were secondary. The primary goal was to stop the factory from polluting the environment.”

“So you’re not a humanitarian at all.”

Green laughed. “I make no pretense of being a humanitarian, Annja. My goals are simple—wipe the toxicity of the human stain from the planet. Help rebuild the wonder that once was nature.”

Annja frowned as the other man finished hefting Jackson’s body over his shoulder. “What now? Is he just going to walk out of here with the corpse?”

Greene smiled. “You really think anyone is going to ask him questions?”

Greene’s associate must have stood more than six feet two inches and weighed about two hundred and sixty pounds. He was big and muscular. Annja didn’t think any of her neighbors would bother him.

“No,” she said simply.

Greene nodded. “Exactly. Now let’s get going downstairs.” He stopped. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer I let my associate leave the body here and then we call the police?”

Annja sighed. She could argue her way out of the murder; she felt confident of that. Plus, she knew a few of the cops at the local precinct. She’d be able to straighten it out, but was it worth the grief?

I need to install some serious surveillance on this place, she thought. Video cameras would forestall this type of bull.

“Annja?”

She stared at the floor. A tiny residue of blood remained on the hardwood. Greene followed her gaze and chuckled.

“We’ll leave that here as a souvenir.”

“Be hard to clean once I get back,” Annja said. “I’d prefer to clean it up now, if you don’t mind.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Greene said. He studied her for a moment before relenting. “You’ve got thirty seconds to get it done.”

Annja ran for the kitchen and grabbed a sheaf of paper towels, holding them under hot water. Through the window, she saw a cruiser parked on the curb across the street. If she could just get the two cops’ attention…

“Annja.”

She turned and saw Greene standing at the entry to the kitchen. Annja lifted the wet paper towels. “Got them.”

She went back to the living room and knelt, mopping up the blood. Fortunately for her decor, the bullet had stayed inside Jackson’s skull. A larger caliber bullet would have exited the skull and strewn brain matter.

Annja spent a few more seconds scrubbing the spot. While it looked clean, she knew that if a crime scene tech ran a UV light over it, there would be blood traces. She’d need to clean it better when she got back.

She stood. “Let me just throw these away and we can go.”

Back in the kitchen, she ditched the ball of towels in the trash. A glance out of the window confirmed the cruiser was still there. Could she get their attention?

The window.

Annja looked over her shoulder and into the living room. Greene had his back to her and was talking to the other guy.

Now.

Annja pushed the window open, hopped up onto the counter and crept out onto the fire escape. Her loft was five stories up. She kicked at the fire escape. Speed was more important now than stealth.

A bullet splanged off the metal handrail in front of her.

“Annja!”

So much for surprise.

She kicked the fire escape down on the second attempt and dropped two stories before she even knew what she was doing.

Footfalls on the fire escape above her confirmed that Greene was in hot pursuit. Or his associate was.

Annja took the steep steps three at a time. She kicked at the release on the next level, watching the steel ratchet toward the street.

Another bullet hit the walkway ahead of her. They were still using a silenced pistol.

Annja’s breathing was coming hard.

She was close to the ground now.

And the cruiser was still there, idling.

“Hey!” Annja waved her arms and then felt something hot bite into the side of her arm. She glanced down and saw blood.

She’d been shot?

Instantly, she felt woozy. She started to turn and was overwhelmed by dizziness.

Annja went over the railing of the fire escape.

And landed on the garbage cans below with a crash.

Dazed, she sat up and put a hand to her head. More blood.

Not good.

She stood and tried to claw her way out of the pile of trash. That’s when she heard the sirens. And saw the cruiser’s lights go on.

“Hey, you okay?”

Miraculously, one of the cops was heading toward her. He rushed to grab her as she fell. “Miss!”

He helped her down to the sidewalk.

Annja struggled to take a breath. “Men—armed. My…apartment.”

Concern creased the face of the police officer. He started to reach for his radio as his partner approached them.

“She okay?”

“I don’t know,” the first officer said. He pushed a button on his radio and started to speak.

“Oh, my God, Annja!”

Annja could barely move her head. She recognized the onset of shock.

And then Greene’s face swam into view overhead. “Thank God she’s okay!”

The first cop looked at Greene. “You know her?”

Greene sighed. “She’s my sister. She’s been taking medication for depression and I was over to discuss some family issues. She got upset. I was in the bathroom, but when I came back out, she was gone. I thought she’d jumped.”

“Damn near did,” the second cop said. “She took a header off the fire escape. She’s lucky to be alive.”

Greene feigned a sigh. “Thank God you were here.”

The first cop stood. “She’s going to need a doctor. And we’ll have to get some information from you.”

Greene nodded. “Sure, sure. Whatever you guys need.”

And then Annja saw Greene bring up his pistol almost in slow motion, extend his arm and shoot both police officers dead. The sound suppressor muffled the gunshots and, since they were in the alley behind Annja’s apartment, no one even noticed the two cops go down.

Greene stepped over each of them and calmly shot them again in the head.

He looked back at Annja. “Just to be sure. These guys have a bad habit of wearing body armor these days. It’s not as easy to kill them anymore.”

Annja tried to talk but nothing came out of her mouth. Greene squatted next to her. “That’s the drug we tagged you with. It’s nice, isn’t it? It’s an ancient pharmacological specimen from the Amazon. Does the trick nicely and you don’t have to listen to a twenty-minute lecture on side effects like you do with the shit the big pharma guys hawk on the evening news.” He smiled. “You ought to thank me for not just killing you and being done with it.”

Annja grabbed his arm and glared at him as best she could. But its effect only amused Greene. “I admire your spirit, Annja. I really do. I have to admit, I don’t know all that much about you—but I intend to rectify that situation immediately.”