Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The hotel room was a cage, a prison that trapped Connor and left him defenseless against the closing Sliver assassins. He had to change that. With his free hand, he yanked the bedspread off the bed, then tore the sheets free. He set the pistol down on the mattress long enough to tie the two sheets together, then tied the end of one to the bedspread, then tied the end of that to the bottom of one of the heavy curtains.

Toshiko plucked the pistols of the unconscious agents up from the floor. “Tell me you’re not doing what I think you’re doing.”

“I don’t have a choice. The clothes took too long to come back. I’m trapped.” Connor aimed the pistol at the window that looked onto the alleyway rather than the one that looked onto the street.

“Sorry. It was a different delivery service this time. They’re usually faster.” She frowned. “Let’s try the back.”

“They’ll have all the exits covered.”

“And it’s twenty meters to the street, just in case you forgot.”

“Closer to fifteen. If this curtain rod holds long enough, it’ll be half that.”

“You’re crazy.” She dropped the guns on the mattress, skipped over to where he stood, scowled, then rose up on her tiptoes, wrapped a hand around the back of his head, and kissed him. It was intense, her lips pressing hard against his.

Just as quickly as she’d pushed herself against him, she backed away.

He blinked, sucked in a deep breath, then nodded past her. “Hide in the bathroom.” He blew out the window with a quick burst of three shots.

Connor tossed the weapon aside, then grabbed the free end of the improvised rope and jumped through the opening.

And sailed out through the fetid, chill air.

Stopping abruptly when the sheets and bedspread stiffened from his weight.

Above him, the curtain fabric stretched.

The flimsy metal clasps holding the curtains groaned and twisted.

Until the screws anchoring the curtain rod tore out of the wall.

Then Connor’s fall resumed, and the black pavement sped toward him.

He hit with a soft splash and a near-simultaneous pop as the sandals came apart. The impact was a hot jolt that shot up through his feet and ankles and into his lower legs.

But nothing gave.

He staggered across the alley, throwing up his hands to absorb the last of his momentum when he hit the far wall. The flesh between his big and index toe on both feet was tender from tearing out the strap, and the balls of his feet were raw from scraping across the pavement. Treatment would have to wait.

From the entry to the alley, there was the scrape of shoes, as if someone were sprinting toward him.

Connor backed up to the wall below the window, then edged toward the alley opening as quietly as he could.

The Umbra agent skidded into the alley, slowing too late, arms windmilling.

Connor clotheslined the assassin, whose feet flew forward as his torso fell back from the blow.

A stomp on the sternum and kick to the head finished the assassin off.

To Connor’s surprise, he and the unconscious man were about the same size. The mercenary took the assassin’s right shoe off and tried it on: a snug fit but good enough.

Wasting no time, Connor grabbed the assassin’s other shoe, then searched him. Just before the first group of assassins had started tailing Connor on his way to meet his contact, he’d heard what he assumed had been a wheeled vehicle. The tires had chirped a few times, a sound that was loud enough that its echoes overwhelmed the relative quiet in the undercity.

This group of assassins must have come with their own vehicles as well.

There! In the Umbra agent’s jacket pocket, there was a cylinder about the size of Connor’s pinky. The device was probably a fob of some sort.

Connor took it just as the soft puff of gunfire caught his ear.

Blood spurted from the fallen assassin’s gut.

Someone was shooting from the window Connor had blown out, which meant it was time to go.

He grabbed the fallen agent’s pistol and sprinted to the street, then headed uphill, figuring that the agents would’ve come down the ramp that connected Sang to Winter. Was there even a way to rent a vehicle in the darkened ruin that housed only the destitute and desperate? It seemed unlikely.

A few more cracks of pavement being shattered by rail gun rounds was the only indication that he was still being pursued. Connor already assumed the assassins would keep after him. That was how the Slivers worked: one group after another hurling itself at the target until the job was done.

The road turned, and to his left, a ladder leaned against a low building.

Connor darted up, then sprinted across the rooftop. His pursuers would have a hard time spotting him when they took the turn. He jumped rooftop to rooftop, scampering up gutters or swinging from railings as necessary, always lunging forward and using his momentum to get him to the next building top.

Up ahead, two dark, sleek objects were parked alongside an unlit shopfront. They were wheeled and low to the ground, their noses pointed toward the hotel.

Connor pulled out the fob, fiddled around with it until he found the protective lid, then flipped that open to reveal a flat nub that he depressed with his fingernail tip.

The second vehicle chirped softly, and an interior light came on.

A small, slender form in the now-familiar black Sliver outfit stepped from around the corner of the darkened building, one hand holding the bottom of the pants crotch, the other tugging up the zipper.

Surprise shaped the assassin’s mouth into a small circle.

Then Connor barreled into the smaller man, driving him against the side of the second car with a lowered shoulder.

The assassin groaned, then hit the rear driver’s side window with his head, spiderwebbing the glass before slumping to the ground.

Connor searched the man’s pocket and retrieved the second fob. He unlocked the first car, then fired several rounds into the second car’s hood, grunting when the welcome sound of composites and metal warping from the high-powered impact. The pistol slugs weren’t large, but they didn’t need to be, not at the velocities the weapon managed.

Now that he was sure the second vehicle was out of commission, he hopped into the first, pushed the fob into the hole meant for it in the steering column, and started the vehicle. He put it into forward and stomped on the accelerator, spinning the wheel to bring the vehicle around hard in the tight street.

He had an appointment to keep, and time was running out.