Scarlet Raven

Chapter 2

Chapter 2Fate and I are not on speaking terms. Sometimes I think she does s**t with the express purpose of pissing me off.

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Sven's agility surprised Scarlett as he sprinted across the room and ducked behind the podium. It wasn't that he was old or overweight—he was barely forty and in fair shape—she had just never seen him work out or do anything remotely physical. Amid the howling fire alarm and the screams from the hall, Scarlett shoved her hand through her hair-tie. She winced at the sound. Damn alarms.

Scarlett shoved her hair through the elastic loops as she scanned the room for some way to surprise the two men about to break through the door. A tiny part of her wanted to laugh at doing this small, mundane thing while in mortal danger. The rest of her just wanted her red hair out of her face.

Other than the small podium, which was barely big enough to hide Sven, the room only contained the table she'd already put in front of the door and the dozen or so rows of chairs.

“Son of a bitch.”

Scarlett knew hiding off to the side of the doorway would not work, that would be the first place they'd look. Her gaze drifted upward as her mind raced to find a reason for the attack. The shouting man sounded like some kind of terrorist, but the guys with guns appeared to be looking for someone. But who? Doubt it's me.

She jumped up onto the table and reached for the lip of molding hiding the overhead lights. The edge was just out of her reach and it looked sturdy enough. “This should work.”

Across the room, Sven poked his head out from behind the podium. “What the hell are you doing?”

She jumped up and grabbed onto the molding to test its strength. “Sven? If you want to stay alive, you need to get down and shut up.” Scarlett hung for a second then dropped back down to the table.

“But…”

“SVEN!”

She didn't need to turn and see to know he was crouched down again. He's probably damn near pissing his pants.

Slipping her high heeled shoes off, Scarlett closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Outside, more screams and the alarm punctuated the silence. The handle on the door jiggled.

She tossed her shoes across the room and jumped. Her hands clasped onto the wooden molding and held fast. Shifting her weight, she swung her body up and planted her feet on the wall. In this position, she could pull against the molding and push against the wall, keeping her feet from hanging down.

After only a few seconds, a warmth started in her biceps and forearms then quickly blossomed into a burning in her muscles. Scarlett squinted her eyes shut and held her breath.

C'mon, c'mon.

The door exploded inward, knocking the table and its contents over. Scarlett's eyes snapped open and she looked down, mentally named each of the attackers by the order they stormed into the room. Number One glided in at a half-crouch and turned to his left, Number Two followed right on his heels, but stayed to the right. She watched their heads turn back and forth as they scanned the room.

Each of the attackers carried a fully automatic magdrive tactical submission rifle. They wore no identifiable insignia. Though, by the type of gear they wore and their level of training, they were pros.

The two looked at each other and Number Two's weapon pointed at the podium. Nodding, Number One hugged the wall and inched toward the front of the room. Number Two fell in right behind with weapon trained on Sven's hiding spot, but as the attacker passed under Scarlett, she dropped.

She landed with a soft thump. Number Two whipped around just as Scarlett rose up and seized the barrel of her attacker's weapon. A half-dozen tazedarts spewed from the end of the rifle as she guided it over her head. The searing metal of the muzzle scorched her palm. She gritted her teeth and gripped the burning steel tighter.

Scarlett planted her foot on Number Two's chest and kicked. The g*n came free. The attacker stumbled backward but came charging back. She smashed the rifle's stock into Number Two's face and the figure collapsed to the ground in an unconscious heap.

Number One took aim and fired. Scarlett dove to the side. In the air, she twisted and brought the rifle up to her shoulder. Landing on her back, she rolled and squeezed the trigger.

The end of the other attacker's weapon dipped. A second later, Number One teetered and fell face first.

Scarlett bounded to her feet and sidestepped toward her assailants, all the while, keeping her sights on the door. She knelt down beside the man she shot and felt for his pulse. “Bastard's are lucky they had tazedarts.”

She looked around the room again to make sure the coast was clear. “Sven, you can come out now.”

“Are you sure?” He asked from his hiding spot. “Is it safe?”

“Safe? No.” Scarlett crept up to the door and peeked out into the hall. “But if we're gonna get out of here, now's our best chance.”

She glanced over her shoulder to see Sven staring down at the unmoving form at her feet. “What are you looking at?”

His eyes stayed transfixed on the unmoving body. “Is he… dead?”

Scarlett had to force herself not to sigh. Sven knew nothing of this kind of thing. She went back to the unconscious men and rooted through their pockets as she explained. “No. These are Tazedarts, submission weapons. Used by very highly trained people in abductions and rescue ops. Usually by government and military agencies. But not always. These guys are likely here to kidnap someone. Maybe several someones. And, since they came right in here, there's a good chance one of us is on that list.”

“Is…is that one just unconscious, too?”

“Yeah. They're both out cold. Son of a b***h. No radios.”

She picked one of the guns back up and wrinkled her brow. “In fact, this is a Bauersmitz 710. There is not a law enforcement agency in the world that uses this weapon as far as I know. It's capable of firing caseless magnetic bullets or these stunning rounds. It's extremely accurate and can be very deadly. This is the kind of weapon mercenaries and contract terrorists use.”

“Oh. Radios?”

She gave a heavy sigh and climbed to her feet. “Yeah. I was expecting some kind of comms, for them to stay in contact with each other. Thought it might give me some idea who they are.”

“But they don't have any.”

“No, well…they probably have implanted comms.”

Sven looked up from the unconscious bodies at his feet. “What do we do now?”

Scarlett leaned out into the hallway and looked both directions. “Now, we get the hell out of here.”

He pulled a commphone from his pocket. He pressed his thumb to the center of the clear glass rectangle and its surface came to life. “Should we call someone?”

Scarlett snatched the device and powered it off. “Absolutely not.”

“What the hell?”

She pointed at his deactivated device. “They might be tracking you with that.”

“What makes you think that?”

“It's what I'd do.” Scarlett tapped the side of her head behind her left ear. “I'll take care of calling someone. Yeah, Dax. Secure this line.”

Dax's voice echoed inside her head. “What the hell is going on down there? It's all over the Net that there is some kind of terrorist attack or something.”

She looked back at Sven, whose face was contorted in confusion. She pointed to her ear. “Sorry, did I not mention my cell-comm implant when I was hired?” Her boss shook his head. “Huh. Anyway, Dax…”

“Yeah, you gonna answer me?”

Scarlett crept along the wall toward the main hallway, making sure to keep the g*n behind her back. At Dax's retort, she fought the slight urge to smile. “You gonna secure the line?”

“Did that like…two minutes ago.”

She reached the corner and her efforts to keep a straight face crumbled, revealing a broad grin. “Good boy. And yes, Sven and I are fine. I need the safest route out of here.”

A distant voice in the background echoed behind Dax's. Scarlett's smile widened even more at Jules's mothering concern. “Is that her? Are they alright? What's going on?”

“Yes. What? Yes. They're fine.”

Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Dax.” Turning her focus back to the task at hand, she peeked around the corner and her grin disappeared.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Um, let's see. I'm pulling up the layout of the convention center now, overlaying your GPS locations, and…The fastest way to the garage is…actually, the quickest way out is through the front door. You're right there.”

She shook her head. “Front door's not gonna work.” More men in unmarked tactical uniforms were scattered in the open lobby, herding the other attendees toward the exhibit hall.

“Um…back the way you came, turn left at the intersection. Take the next left then it's a straight fifty meters.”

Sven stepped up beside her. “What's wrong with the front door? Won't there be police out there?”

Scarlett frowned. “Possibly. But so are they.” She tilted her head toward the lobby.

Sven peeked around the edge and gasped. “All this for what? One of us? You?”

Sven's words stung. She knew he was just making a logical guess. Still, as much as she tried to distance herself from her past, it would always taint her future.

She looked him in the eye. “If they'd had any inkling I was here, they would have sent a bigger team. And they would definitely not be using Tazedarts.” She held up the g*n.

“Oh.”

“Grab my shoes, will you?” Scarlett tucked the rifle butt into her shoulder and held the weapon ready. Leaning against the wall, she kept watch into the hall. A moment later, Sven trotted over to her with her shoes in hand. “You'll have to hold on to those for me.”

“Uh…Okay.”

“Seriously, I paid like three hundred bucks for them. Either that or you'll see a receipt for three hundred dollars in parking fees.”

Sven's face twisted in confusion, then realization dawned on him and he stared at her placidly. “Fine.”

“Stay close behind me.” Scarlett moved back down the smaller hallway. She kept her knees bent and her steps smooth. “Dax, can you hack into my car?”

“Dax is trying to get a better idea of what's going on.” Jules's voice echoed in Scarlett's head. “I'm pinging your car now.”

“Jules, you know I don't like you doing the hacking thing.”

The woman on the other end of the comms huffed. “Really? Because getting our boss, and you, out of mortal danger is less important than my job? Besides, if he dies, I have no job.”

Scarlett knew she couldn't argue with that logic. “Fine. On my signal, I want the autodrive to bring the car right to the door.”

“Got it.”

She moved up to the next corner and motioned behind her. Sven stepped up and hugged the wall. Scarlett sneaked a look around the edge to find the coast clear. With a quick wave, they continued on.

Halfway to the garage door, Dax's voice interrupted her concentration. “I'm back. Emergency crews are starting to arrive. Police are about two minutes away and the tactical response teams are five.”

“Thank you, sir. That should be just enough time for us to get out of here.”

Scarlett glided right up to the door and stopped. She motioned for Sven to move against the wall beside the door. He stepped to where she pointed and nodded. “I'm at the garage door. Is there anyone on the other side?”

“Can't tell.” Jules replied. “I can't see from where the car is at.”

“Alright…I'm heading out.”

She took a deep breath and placed her hand over the door's button. Looking at Sven, she mouthed a silent count down. “Three, two —”

The door burst open. What the…? She looked up to see a face covered in a black tactical mask. The eyes behind the mask showed the same surprise that she felt. s**t!

Scarlett lifted her weapon to fire, but the attacker moved too fast. He closed the distance and slammed his gloved fist into the side of the rifle, knocking it from her hands. On his back swing, he connected with Scarlett's jaw.

She stumbled back and shook her head. “Sonofabitch, that hurt.” She rubbed her jaw and assessed her opponent. The man stood at least six feet tall and while he was not especially large, Scarlett's jaw already told her he was strong enough.

She assumed a fighting stance.

The man chuckled. He reached for his pistol strapped to his thigh. Scarlett watched in slow motion as the g*n slid free of its holster and rose to aim at her. Oh no you don't!

Already moving, she grabbed his g*n hand and pinned it against his chest. She slammed into him, sending the two of them smashing through the door into the garage.

Tires squealed. Scarlett pushed off the man to stop, sending him tumbling backward right into her car. The vehicle screeched to a stop, but not quite soon enough. The man's armored body thumped against her hood, flipped into the air and landed on the far side of her car.

Scarlett slid over the hood of her vehicle and readied to continue the fight, but her assailant wasn't moving. She spun around to see Sven holding the door open with one hand and the rifle in the other. “Dax, trunk.”

Storming over to Sven, she snatched the rifle off the ground as the trunk popped open. Scarlett tossed the weapon in and closed the trunk on her way to the driver's door. She yanked on the handle and froze. Sven still stood in the doorway, his face a mask of confusion and awe.

Scarlett's mouth twisted. “Would you get in the car?”