Ratio(68)

Without pausing to think, Trevor drew up to full height, forcing one hand over the man’s mouth. With the other, he thrust the KA-BAR into the spine, halfway up the back. He felt the target’s shoulders tense and his legs start to buckle. He forced the jaw upward, exposing the neck, and brought the knife around, jabbing downward just to the side of the larynx. The blade punctured the carotids, and Trevor felt the man’s body convulse, the blood pouring down his throat. A muffled gurgle, barely audible through Trevor’s palm, still clamped over the mouth.

Trevor let him slip to the floor, and positioned him face-down to stop any arterial spray hitting the walls. Already unconscious, he would bleed out in less than a minute. Trevor dropped the knife, pulled out his firearm. He ran the few feet to the end of the corridor. Without pausing for breath, he darted around the corner, aiming the pistol toward Melendez’s room, ready to take out the second bodyguard. The money shot.

Emptiness greeted him.

It took a second or two for Trevor’s brain to focus. Pumped up on adrenaline, the fight-or-flight response didn’t leave much room for logical thinking. Sucking in a deep breath, Trevor returned to the man bleeding out on the carpet. He kneeled down, inspected the body.

A big guy. Packed with muscle. Leaking bodily fluid onto the pile, eyes open. The heart must have stopped already, blood no longer pumping from the open wound, just a thick flow. He had white skin, black hair. Ugly suit. Trevor realized who he was, and rolled him onto his back. He pulled open the man’s suit jacket. There it was, tucked away within the inside pocket. The man’s ID and badge.

Goddamn Secret Service. Someone must have sent him over to check the floor. That meant someone was still up here, hiding out in a suite. But where the hell was the security team?

He checked the agent’s other pockets. Found a wallet, car keys. A plastic room key. Trevor smiled. Nearby, the janitor’s storage closet. Using the crowbar, he wrenched the door open. He fetched down a bed sheet, slipped it under the dead agent’s bulky frame, dragged the body inside. On one of the shelves sat a large plastic tub filled with sand. Probably used for clearing up vomit. He popped the lid and dumped half the contents over the pooling blood on the carpet, spreading it around with his foot. Finally, he found a yellow plastic folding sign that read “Caution: Spill Cleanup in Progress” and positioned it just to the side of the sand pile. It wouldn’t stand up to scrutiny, but hopefully the setup would buy him time if anyone else decided to wander upstairs.

Trevor used a handful of paper towels and cleaning spray to remove the worst of the blood from his black body suit. The result was acceptable, although the agent’s DNA would still be plastered all over the fabric. No matter. By the time anyone found the body, Trevor planned on being halfway across town.

He retrieved the pistol, knife, and crowbar. Stolen room key in his hand, he shut the closet door, leaving the agent’s body slumped up against the shelf rack. Alone in the corridor, he rounded the corner and looked up and down. No way of knowing which room was still occupied. He would have to check each in turn.

One hand on his firearm, Trevor headed for the door at the farthest end of the hallway.





Chapter 47





IRRITATED AFTER THE abrupt exodus of Jack and the early end to their weekend date, June went back to the bed and straightened the sheets. She was locked into the hotel with nowhere to go and not even a hint of what the threat might be. As far as she knew, she was alone on the floor.

There goes my talk, June thought, flopping onto the bed. She cuddled a pillow to her chest. It was the one Jack had used during the night, and still had his scent on it. Somehow, it made her miss him even more. Jack was gone, and she wasn’t sure of where or when she would see him again.

This weekend officially sucks.

June thought she heard something from out in the hallway and pushed up onto one elbow in the dark room. Is that the housekeeper? The ventilation system kicked on, a soft whoosh of air flowing through the vents. But there was something else, something in the hallway.

A credible threat? she thought, slipping on a bathrobe. What the hell is a credible threat? A housekeeper making her rounds too early in the afternoon?

She considered the housekeeper for a moment, how she had seen the young woman only once since checking in, but she had clearly been around to clean the rooms and make beds since then. Even the pillows had been changed. But what did she, or even Leopold or Jerome, really know about her?

She blew out a breath, staring at the ceiling. “Shit, June, you’re starting to sound as paranoid as the rest of them,” she said, muttering to herself.

June heard the noise again. It wasn’t coming from inside the room. There was definitely something going on out in the hallway. Maybe a door being opened and closed.