Lights Out Read online

  She takes another step forward.

  “But can you reach me before I pick this up?” he asks.

  Looking down, Cassie sees that Essien's left foot is now next to the gun she dropped earlier.

  “A knife in the hand is worth far less than a gun in the bush,” Essien continues. “Provided one can get to the gun in time, of course. So when are you going to come at me with that thing? Do you really think you'll be fast enough?”

  More blood dribbles from his wound.

  Cassie adjusts her grip on the knife. She knows she can do this, but she also knows she has to be quick. One mistake is all Essien will need.

  “Now!” he shouts suddenly.

  Cassie flinches, but she doesn't make her move.

  “Clever girl,” he continues. “Sit. Stay. All good tricks, but now you have to think for yourself. Can you do that? Or do you still need somebody telling you what to do?”

  She almost lunges at him, but something holds her back. She's starting to sweat now.

  “Ready when you are,” Essien says, forcing a smile. “It's like an old-fashioned stand-off, isn't it? It's like -”

  Suddenly she rushes forward, raising the knife and screaming.

  In a flash, Essien ducks down and grabs the gun, before aiming it at her and firing.

  The blast fills the room.

  Cassie cries out and spin, falling backward and slamming down against the floor as the knife falls from her hand and bounces harmlessly against the window.

  Essien stands completely still and silent, with the gun still raised. He stares at Cassie, waiting for her to let out a pained groan or for her to beg for mercy, but she does neither of those things.

  She doesn't move at all.

  And then, slowly, a pool of blood starts to spread from beneath her head and shoulder.

  “Huh,” Essien mutters, furrowing his brow a little. “And to think, people always used to claim that I'm a bad shot. Apparently I'm quite good in a pressure situation, I should -”

  Before he can finish, he hears a shuffling sound nearby, and he turns just in time to see Anders limping into view in the kitchen doorway.

  “You're late!” Essien yells, turning and aiming the gun at him. “You missed all the fun! All the fucking about!”

  Anders looks over at the window and sees Cassie slumped on the floor. He also sees a splatter of blood behind her, on the glass.

  “You taught her well,” Essien continues. “Your little dog, I mean. You taught her almost enough. But that's what she was, isn't it? A dog.”

  Anders stares at Cassie for a moment longer, before turning to him.

  “Is this where you start sobbing?” Essien asks. “Your little bitch is dead.”

  Anders pauses.

  “So?” he says finally.

  Essien keeps the gun aimed at him.

  “I'm honestly surprised she lasted this long,” Anders continues. “Part of my job means forging relationships with the people under my control. And forge is the operative word there. I've become rather good at that over the years. At pretending to care about them. Pretending to give a shit. You might think that's cruel, but it makes it easier to -”

  “Manipulate them?” Essien says, interrupting him.

  “Exactly.”

  “Well, that's cold,” Essien mutters. “Even by the usual standards of the British. You should take that as a compliment.”

  “I'm not British,” Anders points out. “I'm Swedish, actually.”

  “Then maybe you're a trained lap-dog too. Is that how it works with British Intelligence? Is it just dogs all the way down?”

  “I'm not here because I was upset by Tom Dansing's death,” Anders continues. “I'm here because I took his execution as a professional slight. On top of that, I was never quite able to convince my superiors that I'd kept my mouth shut while your men were torturing me. That incident out there in the Middle East cost me my career, Mr. Essien. That's why I'm pissed off, and it's also why I'm here tonight.”

  “Your friend -”

  “I wanted her help,” Anders explains, “as a distraction for you.”

  “I'm the one holding a gun right now,” Essien reminds him.

  “You're also the one who's bleeding to death.”

  “You think you're going to do any better?”

  “I don't care,” Anders tells him. “I wasn't upset by Tom's death and I'm not upset by Cassie's, and I don't mind that I'm also going to die. Besides, I've passed everything I know on to my protege. Milo will continue my good work.”

  “Someone else to teach your little tricks to, huh?”

  “I'm a trainer at heart.”

  “We should have worked together, Mr. Holl. You're a man after my own -”

  “Just shoot me,” Anders replies, cutting him off. “Save me having to listen to your grandstanding bullshit. You're dead anyway, Essien. You're not getting out of here in time to get medical help for that wound. My job is done. Frankly, you're boring me. Just kill me and get it over with.”

  “Tell me one thing before the end,” Essien says. “Are you really not even a little sad about your dog's death? Wouldn't you have preferred it if she'd been able to slink off home to her family?”

  “I really didn't give it any thought,” Anders tells him. “I taught her, she did what she was taught, and finally her usefulness came to an end. It's not a very interesting story.”

  “Did you ever ask her to beg, Mr. Holl?”

  Anders shakes her head.

  “What was her best trick, then?” Essien continues. “Chasing rats?”

  “No,” Anders replies, “I'd say her best trick was always rolling over and playing dead.”

  “And what did the -”

  Essien hesitates.

  A flicker of concern crosses his face.

  Suddenly he turns, just as Cassie throws the knife.

  Gasping as the blade drives into his throat, Essien stumbles back and fires the gun. The bullet misses Cassie by several meters and instead hits the window behind her, blasting the glass and causing the entire window to explode.

  Chapter ThirtySix

  1:30am

  Cold wind blasts into the apartment as Cassie takes a limping step forward. Ignoring the bullet wound in her shoulder, she keeps her eyes fixed on Essien as he coughs and splutters.

  “The oldest trick in the book,” Anders says with a smile, as Essien turns and takes a couple of faltering steps away. “Keep the asshole talking, so that he won't even realize what's really happening.”

  Essien tries to say something, but instead he coughs blood against the wall. Panicking, he stumbles through an open doorway and then turns, slamming the door shut. A moment later there's the sound of a key being turned in the lock.

  “Are you okay?” Anders asks as he and Cassie make their way toward the door.

  “I'll be fine.”

  “It looks like -”

  “John the Pig can patch it up.”

  “Of course he can.” He pauses. “You know, all that stuff I just said was -”

  “I get it. I read the manual you used to use. About how to talk to the enemy. I read it from cover to cover.”

  “You did?”

  She tries the door, only to find that it's locked.

  “I thought you might have read it,” Anders mutters. “After all, I did leave it out one night so that you could be -”

  Suddenly a gunshot rings out, blasting a hole in the door from the other side. Anders and Cassie immediately step to either side.

  “Someone still has one last toy left,” Anders says, as a particularly strong and loud gust of wind blows into the apartment and rattles the pictures on the walls. Wisps of pinkish-red are blowing in as well, even as the storm seems to be weakening slightly. “He won't go down without a fight, but it's okay. Those wounds will kill him.”

  “The wounds don't matter,” Cassie replies. “I left a nasty surprise in the elevator shaft.”

  “Clever girl. What did you do?”
>
  “The chamber's about three floors down from here,” she explains. “I had a bunch of grenades. I realized their activators use an electrical signal, so they won't work at the moment. So I activated them all anyway and tossed them down there. As soon as the storm passes in about an hour and a half's time, the grenades will trigger. I don't know how much damage they'll do, but I very much doubt much will be left of this floor.”

  “Very clever girl,” Anders says. “In which case, I think it's time we -”

  “But I want to see him die.”

  “Cassie -”

  “I want to see the life go out of his eyes.”

  “Don't be stubborn,” Anders says with a sigh. “There's no -”

  Suddenly another shot rings out, blowing another hole in the door.

  “We can leave!” Anders hisses. “We've done our job!”

  “And how many times has Michael Essien been presumed dead before?” Cassie asks. “I don't trust him not to slither his way out of this. We probably only have about an hour and a half maximum before the storm passes. The power grid won't be turned back on for several hours after that, but independently-powered items like the grenades will work again. That gives us roughly ninety minutes to get through this door and kill Essien with our bare hands.”

  “But -”

  “And that's what I'm going to do,” she says firmly. “You don't have to. I understand if you want to go and start climbing down now, but I have to stay until I know that the job is done.”

  Anders opens his mouth to argue with her, before turning and making his way across the room.

  Cassie watches as he takes something from an alcove next to the broken window, and then she sees him taking two more of the same item. He tosses one out the window, before making his way back over.

  “Parachutes,” he says, holding them up. “I figured a man like Essien would have these. After 9/11, every rich bastard in a tower made sure he had a few in case the worst happened. They'll be enough to get us down to the ground. There were three, but I tossed one out in case it fell into the wrong hands.” He places the two parachutes on a nearby chair. “We stay for now, until the storm comes to an end. We do our best to break through and kill this bastard in person, but on the condition that we pull out when I give the order.”

  “Anders -”

  “For your family, Cassie,” he adds. “For your daughter.”

  He waits for an answer.

  “They're more important than vengeance,” he continues. “If not for you, then for your little girl. She deserves to have her mother still alive after this is over.”

  Cassie hesitates, and then finally she nods.

  “But until I give the order,” Anders says, “I'll do everything I can to help you get through this door. Just remember that even though he's wounded, Essien is still dangerous. Until the moment he dies, he can still lash out. On top of that, I'm sure he's heard every word we've been saying for the past few minutes. Assuming he's still conscious, that is.”

  Cassie nods again.

  “Alright, then,” Anders continues. “Let's get to work.”

  Chapter ThirtySeven

  2:55am

  “Maybe he's dead,” Cassie says over an hour later, as she and Anders watch the door. “We should try breaking the door down again.”

  “My way is better,” Anders replies, still fiddling with the piece of wire that he's hoping to use on the lock.

  “That isn't working!”

  “It's a process!” he says firmly. “It just takes time. Have a little patience. I never met a lock I couldn't pick, not in all my years on the planet.”

  Sighing, Cassie looks at the handle again.

  “He was bleeding so much,” she says after a moment. “There was the wound in his gut, and the knife in his throat. No-one could survive that for long.”

  “So you're ready to leave?”

  “I didn't say that. All I mean is that even if he's not dead, he must have passed out.” She pauses. “But I have to see. I can't just assume.”

  “Time's running out.”

  She checks her watch, but of course it no longer works.

  “I need to see his dead body,” she continues, before turning and looking toward the broken window. For a moment, she can only stare at the sight of reddish-white wisps being blown in from the darkening sky beyond.

  “The storm is passing,” Anders says as he checks his watch. “It's almost three. The reports all stated that by three, we'd start getting power back.”

  “There's still time,” she replies, turning to him.

  “We don't know that! There could be only minutes at most!”

  “We can still -”

  “You were right to put those grenades in the elevator shaft. When they go off, this whole floor will likely be destroyed. Plus, Essien's probably dead on the other side of this door anyway.” He pauses. “It's time to go, Cassie.”

  “Get the door open.”

  “I can't. Not in the time we have left. If I couldn't do it in the first ninety minutes, I sure as hell can't do it in the next five.”

  “You agreed that when I give the order -”

  “This isn't your mission,” she reminds him. “You're not in charge, not anymore.”

  “I'm less emotionally-driven right now. Your daughter -”

  “Don't try to blackmail me by mentioning her all the time.”

  “I'm right, Cassie. We have to go.” He sets the piece of wire down. “We've done our job. We've avenged Tom. That's a miracle. This time yesterday, I never would have thought it possible. But now we have to leave.” He pauses again. “This isn't like a movie, or like one of our old missions. You're not going to get to see Essien's dead eyes, but you're going to know for certain that he's dead.”

  “I need -”

  “You need to get a grip!” he snaps. “For your daughter, if for no-one else. It's time to leave. Now!”

  She stares at him for a moment, and then she looks at the door. For a few seconds, she seems determined to keep trying to force her way through, but finally she takes a step back.

  “You agree?” Anders asks.

  She turns to him and nods.

  “Great,” he says, grabbing her by the arm and leading her over toward the parachutes. “This part isn't exactly going to be fun, by the way. There are some funky things we could land on down there.” He grabs one of the parachutes and tosses it to her, while starting to put one on his own back. “When this is all over, I'll buy you a drink. A big drink. To Tom.”

  He heads over toward the window, where the wind is almost strong enough to beat him back. For a few seconds he looks out across the city. The sky has fallen dark, now that the storm has passed, and there's only the light of the moon. Then, hearing footsteps approaching, he turns to find that Cassie has come over to join him.

  “We did it,” he tells her. “You realize that, right?”

  She hesitates, but then she nods.

  “Jump on the count of three,” he adds.

  She nods again.

  He turns and looks down at the streets far below.

  “One,” he says after a moment. “Two. Ready?” He takes a deep breath. “Three.”

  And he jumps.

  The wind immediately start buffeting him, knocking him against the side of the building until he kicks and forces himself out. He waits a few seconds before looking up, and at that moment he's shocked to see that Cassie hasn't jumped yet, and then he sees her disappearing back into the building.

  “Get out!” he yells, filled with anger as he realizes that she tricked him. “Cassie!”

  There's no time.

  He pulls the cord on the parachute, and there's a sudden jolt as it deploys above him. He's sent thudding back into the side of the tower, scraping down several floors as his fall slows, and then he manages once again to push himself out so that he can drift down through the darkness. Finally he reaches the street and drops to his knees, and the parachute settles softly all around him.
>
  He starts furiously removing the straps, desperate to extricate himself as quickly as possible. Muttering all sorts of curses under his breath, he finally manages to get out from under the canopy, at which point he looks up and sees that there's still no sign of the second parachute coming down.

  And then, in the distance, a siren sounds. A car alarm, suddenly coming to life as the effects of the solar storm begin to subside.

  “Cassie!” Anders screams, cupping his hands around his mouth in a vain attempt to make her hear him. “Get out of there!”

  Chapter ThirtyEight

  3:10am

  “I'm sorry, Emily,” Cassie says as she aims the gun at the door's handle. “I'm sorry, Anders. Steve.”

  She fires, blasting the handle away.

  Trying the door, she finds that it's still locked.

  “Damn it,” she mutters, no longer bothering to stay to one side, no longer worrying that Essien might shoot at her through the door. She's fairly sure Anders was right, that the man is dead, but she can't leave without seeing his body.

  She aims the gun again and fires, this time blasting away a small chunk of wood. She can feel the anger rising again, the same twin-horned anger that she first felt that day in the blazing desert sun. There have been times over the past ten years when the anger has rippled deep in her chest, but now it's bursting up and threatening to break through. The worst part is, she wants it to break through. She wants to be consumed by a force that will make her unstoppable, she wants to feel all the pain being turned into something she can use. She doesn't want to think anymore. She only wants to scream.

  She fires the gun again.

  “Come on!” she shouts, dropping to her knees and trying to peer through the hole, but finding herself unable to see anything on the other side. “I know you're in there, you son of a bitch. I want to see your dead fucking eyes.”

  Suddenly hearing a distant noise, she turns and looks toward the window. To her shock, a few lights are starting to burst into life on the horizon. She knows the main grid is still offline, so she figures the lights must come from cars and other objects with independent power sources. The storm is passing, and any moment now the grenades in the elevator shaft will activate.