Hollow World (24 page)

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Authors: Nick Pobursky

Tags: #Suspense & Thrillers

BOOK: Hollow World
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32

 

 

Mason’s revelation had been unsettling, to say the least. Charlie, while not technologically savvy, still had a firm grasp on the limits of what people could accomplish with modern devices. He understood very
well that to digitally break into a cellular phone—a Company agent’s encrypted device, no less—from a remote location and wipe clear its contents was digital wizardry of the highest order. They’d grossly underestimated Holloway and his men, and their lack of precautions had not only robbed them of the element of surprise, but also of the intel they’d had—essentially making them unaware of the physical descriptions of their enemy. Charlie could recall the faces of the two men whose photos he’d studied on Kalani’s phone, but the other ten men were completely unknown to him, and it caused him great discomfort. Anyone could be a hostile, and that made their operation exponentially harder.

As the final fiery glow of the dying sun dipped below the horizon, casting the Sunshine State into welcome darkness, Charlie stood at the Magic Kingdom’s monorail platform with Victoria and the rest of X-ray Team. Victoria stood near Charlie, but she remained closed off; arms folded across her chest and a look of dissatisfaction on her face. She’d taken the loss of the photos—and the looping of the security cameras—personally, and blamed herself for the lack of preparation. Charlie had tried to reassure her that there was nothing she could have done, but after fifteen minutes, he resigned himself to the realization that Victoria would not be swayed. He decided to let her harness the anger, no matter how irrational, to use against her enemies. Still, something occurred to him and he felt compelled to share it with the team.

“Guys,” Charlie called, in barely more than a whisper. “I don’t think all of us should take the monorail. I think it would be smarter to split up.”

“What makes you think that?” Victoria asked.

“Well, it’s probable that your Dad has men watching the station,” he offered, sure that Holloway had covered all the bases. “We’ll be slaughtered as soon as we exit the monorail if that’s the case—the station is wide open and has little to no cover. There are walkways on every floor that overlook the platform and could provide excellent high ground for even an amateur shooter. I think it might be well worth it for half of us to
walk
to Bay Lake Tower—it’s not far: ten minutes, maximum—and maybe even cause a little trouble along the way. If we can create a distraction, it might draw any lookouts away from the station and give us an opportunity to slip in unnoticed.”

Victoria thought about this for a few moments before responding.

“You’re right,” she admitted, with a small nod. “It might also be a good decision for you and I to split up, as well. If my Dad really does get the drop on us, I’d rather both of us not be in the same place.”

Charlie nodded—Victoria had a point. She and Charlie were Holloway’s primary targets and if they ended up walking into a trap, they’d both be killed. At least they stood more of a chance if they separated.

“Who’s going with who?” Charlie asked, eager to begin.

“Mason, McCoy—you’re with me,” Victoria ordered. “Kalani and Jen-Jen—you’re going with the detective.”

Nods and murmurs of assent all around—the team clearly trusted Victoria with their lives and none of them opposed the plan.

“Well, we’d better be off, then,” Victoria stated. “Need to get the ball rolling over there before you board the monorail.”

Charlie nodded, steeling his nerves for what was sure to be a difficult confrontation. Before leaving, Victoria stepped over to him and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tight. Charlie returned his new friend’s gesture and wondered if he would ever see her again.

“Good luck, Victoria,” Charlie said.

“Damn it, Walker. You’re not getting soft on me, are you?” she teased.

“Of course not,” Charlie said with a smirk.

Victoria grinned and turned away, heading back down the entrance ramp with Mason and McCoy in tow. After a few steps, she looked at Charlie over her shoulder and said, “Godspeed, Detective. See you on the other side.” She added a little wink for effect and disappeared out of sight.

 

•••

 

Charlie had decided to let the first monorail pass to buy Victoria a little bit of time to create a disturbance and lure any hypothetical scouts away from the Contemporary’s monorail platform.

“Charlie, I’m going to sit a few cars back,” Jen-Jen declared, eyeballing a family waiting near the opposite end of the station.

“Why?” he asked.

“Same reason Vee left—too many of us in one area just makes us a bigger target.”

Charlie didn’t like the idea of splitting up again, but he couldn’t deny that her logic was sound.

“Be careful. Keep your eyes open,” he said as she turned to leave.

“Always do, boss,” she said with a laugh. “Always do…”

When the next monorail glided to a stop in the station, Kalani chose to remain with Charlie instead of finding his own car. They’d been waiting alone on the platform outside of the car at the front of the train; the closest family was several cars back. The Main Street Electrical Light Parade would start soon, meaning that the crowds in the park were surely searching for prime viewing real estate, leaving the monorail station nearly empty as a result.

When they were able to board, Charlie and Kalani found that they were not alone in their chosen compartment. Two men already sat in the rear-facing seats. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence: every day many resort guests rode the monorail loop for the experience alone. Wary of these strangers, Charlie and Kalani took the seats opposite them as the doors automatically closed and sealed.

As the monorail departed the station, Charlie tried to observe the two men in the dim light. The pair were dressed nearly identically: pastel-colored polo shirts and khaki cargo pants. The outfits seemed entirely out of character for men of their size. Both men were large—muscular and fit—though one was several inches shorter than the other. Something about these men bespoke a familiarity that Charlie could not quite place. The lack of sleep, coupled with an overabundance of stress, was taking its toll on his memory and focus. During the ride, Charlie noticed that their cabin had been momentarily cast in an intense white light that faded to orange, but he refused to take his eyes off these two strange men.

Charlie finally looked over at Kalani and noticed that the big Hawaiian was gazing intently at the taller of the two men—who returned the stare with equal intensity. Judging from his tense posture, Charlie deduced that Kalani had also sensed something sinister about these two men. One of the men had a bewildered look on his face, almost as if feeling the strange sense of familiarity that Charlie had been experiencing. It seemed as if the two men were equally wary of Charlie and Kalani, and the staring contest continued—both pairs of men quietly observing the other. After a few moments, the smaller man shifted uncomfortably in his seat and leaned forward to get a better view.

Finally, Charlie solved the puzzle that his foggy memory had placed before him. The smaller man’s movement had momentarily flattened his polo shirt against his hip and Charlie had seen—just for the smallest fraction of a second—the telltale bulge of a concealed firearm. It was this clue that had given his memory the clarity that it had so desired. While not the men from the photographs on Kalani’s phone, the outfits they wore were definitely variations of the clothes the men had been wearing in the surveillance photos. This data, coupled with the definitive presence of a sidearm, told Charlie exactly who these men were.

Evidently, Kalani had made the same connection, for he shifted his position and freed up his left arm, a maneuver specifically designed to allow him quick access to his sidearm that was holstered in his shoulder rig. Kalani feigned an itch and scratched at his left armpit—outside of his shirt—and Charlie could hear the faint
snap
of the shoulder holster’s button being disengaged.

Clever,
he thought. Kalani was preparing for war.

“Is there a problem, gentleman?” Kalani asked the men, with a friendly smile plastered on his face that never reached his eyes. The two men seemed stunned into silence, clearly having made the same connection that Charlie and Kalani had made just moments earlier.

Charlie felt his fight-or-flight instinct kick in as both mercenaries made a rapid grab for their weapons. Charlie and Kalani, having been ready for this moment, were equally quick on the draw. Within a fraction of a second, all four men had brought their weapons to bear.

Without any hesitation on either side, all hell broke loose.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as four triggers were pulled simultaneously.

Volleys of hot lead tore into the walls and punched through the seats of the compartment as four handguns spat fire, and a deafening thunder roared through the tiny space. None of the four had time to aim their weapons after drawing them from holsters on their waists; they simply fired from the hip like gunslingers in a Spaghetti Western.

Charlie heard sizzling rounds pass within inches of his head, like the sound of a swarm of furious killer bees buzzing past his ears. Two of his first rounds found fleshy new homes—one in the upper shin of the bigger man, the other directly in the gut of the smaller man. The remainder of his wildly fired shots punched harmlessly into the wall and seat. From his right, he saw that Kalani had fired several rounds into the chest of the bigger man—the big Hawaiian being the only one able to properly aim his weapon, having drawn it from the shoulder rig.

In his distraction, Charlie felt a searing hot pain tear into his right side, just outside his ribcage. The overdose of adrenaline allowed him to ignore the pain and, as the man across from him attempted to eject the magazine from his empty weapon, Charlie leapt from his seat—causing an all-new wave of burning agony to stab his side—and lunged toward the smaller man. Startled, the man attempted to raise his arms in defense, but Charlie was simply too fast. Swinging as hard as he could, but sacrificing precise aim, Charlie brought the handle of his Walther down hard on the man—missing the head that he’d been aiming for, but shattering the man’s collarbone in the process.

The Chaos Squad mercenary screamed in pain, but it was short lived. The soldier had been trained and conditioned to deal with pain, and within an instant his arms were wrapped around Charlie’s torso. The muscular man stood, lifting Charlie from his feet and driving him to the floor with devastating force. Charlie felt the air burst from his lungs as the man slammed him to the floor of the compartment. Gasping for air, Charlie struggled to free himself from beneath the big man. The mercenary was prepared and he stymied all of Charlie’s attempts to escape. Raising a meaty fist, the man brought it down hard, aiming for Charlie’s face. Luckily, Charlie’s Krav Maga training kicked in and he was able to deflect the blow while at the same time bringing up a fist that caught the man square in the jaw. Charlie wasn’t able to put adequate force behind his punch due to his position, but the connection was solid and it stunned the man just long enough for Charlie to buck him off and scramble away.

Finally free, Charlie lunged for the man once more. The mercenary had somehow found an opportunity to draw a knife which he jabbed toward Charlie’s midsection. Again, he was prepared, grabbing the man’s wrist and leaning away from the wickedly sharp blade. He latched his right hand onto the man’s throat and squeezed, still firmly grasping the man’s wrist. The mercenary tried with all of his might to free himself, but Charlie held fast with all of his strength. The man weakly clawed at Charlie’s hand but the detective would not be moved.

Just then, a single shot rang out, resonating in the small space like a bomb blast.

Blood, hair, bone shards and brain matter decorated the window of the compartment and he finally released his grip. The dead mercenary fell limply to the floor among the countless shell casings and spatters of blood. Charlie turned to see Kalani holding his smoking pistol in the classic shooters’ grip. Luckily for Charlie, Kalani had been able to reload his weapon during the struggle and it had saved the detective’s life.

Charlie gasped for air and struggled to combat the shock that was attempting to set itself in.

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