The Prophecy

41

Ann and Mary Choban were senior citizens. They lived with their sister Sally in a small apartment on the tenth floor. Despite their advancing age, they roamed the city every day, riding public transportation and searching for bargains. Today they were headed to Taco Bell, followed by a trip to a local casino where they would play the cheapest slots available.

At least that had been the plan until Jones appeared in their elevator.

The two seniors shrieked with surprise and moved to the far corner of the car where they huddled against the wall. Jones spotted them while still on his back and assured them they were safe, despite the fact that he was pointing a loaded gun towards the lobby.

‘Don’t worry, I’m a cop,’ he lied.

Mary stared at him, confused. ‘No, you’re not. You can’t be a cop.’

Jones glanced up at her. ‘What’s that supposed to mean? I’m black so I can’t be a cop?’

Ann stammered, ‘No, but…’

‘Hold up!’ he said, annoyed. ‘This is supposed to be the City of Brotherly Love. Well, I’m a brother, so show me some love. I can’t believe how racist everyone is!’

‘But…’

‘But, what? Spit it out, Grandma.’

Ann finished her thought. ‘But you’re wearing handcuffs.’

‘Oh,’ he mumbled, suddenly realizing how he appeared to them. The meathead cop had pissed him off so much he was actively searching for racism, even in places it wasn’t present. ‘Ladies, the lobby isn’t safe right now. You should go upstairs for a while.’

Mary grumbled. ‘But we’re going to lunch.’

‘To get tacos,’ Ann added.

‘Not today,’ Jones said as he sprang to his feet. ‘What floor?’

Both women sighed and answered in unison. ‘Ten.’

Jones pushed the appropriate button. ‘Don’t come back down until dinner.’

Thinking things through, Paul realized there was a decent chance Jones had an accomplice who had killed Vinnie. It would certainly explain why Jones was now armed and running free. Furthermore, it probably meant the woman he had dragged behind the couch was actually the enemy. After all, she had been with Jones at the time of his arrest.

‘What’s your name?’ Paul demanded.

‘Megan Moore,’ she said, curled up on the floor.

‘Are they coming for you?’

‘Who?’

He pointed his gun at her. ‘Your friends.’

‘My friends?’ she shrieked, confused by the turn of events.

‘The ones who killed my partner.’

She backed away from him. ‘We didn’t kill your partner. They tried to kill us!’

‘Bullshit!’

‘I swear to God, someone is trying to kill us. They already killed my neighbour.’

The comment made him pause. ‘Who’s your neighbour?’

‘Ashley Henderson. She lived in 615.’

That was the same woman Paul and Vinnie had been sent to investigate. The one who had been killed on the Pitt campus for no apparent reason. ‘Who are your friends?’

‘Jonathon Payne and David Jones. They’re investigators from Pittsburgh.’

Paul peeked over the couch, looking for trouble. ‘Why are they here?’

‘They’re here to protect me.’

‘Did you hire them?’ he demanded.

‘No, I didn’t hire them.’

‘Then that doesn’t make sense. They must be here for some other reason.’

‘I’m telling you, they’re here to protect me!’

A moment later, Paul found out that was true.

Slamming on the SUV’s brakes outside the lobby, Payne thought about his best course of action. Jones and Megan had dashed inside the building, which was temporarily the safest place for them. Unless, of course, there were more gunmen approaching from the rear. If that was the case, then everyone inside was going to get caught in the crossfire.

Not a pleasant thought.

Thinking quickly, he tapped on the driver’s side window, trying to figure out what kind of material had been used in its design. He knew that high-profile vehicles in war zones were now being fitted with one-way bullet-resistant glass because it allowed security details to fight back without leaving their vehicles. He had never used it during combat, but he had tested it during drills.

The glass was made of dual layers, a brittle layer on the exterior and an interior flexible one. When a bullet was fired from the outside, it hit the brittle layer first, shattering a section of it. This absorbed some of the bullet’s energy and spread it over a large area. When the slowed bullet hit the flexible layer, it stopped. However, when a bullet was fired from the inside, it hit the flexible layer first, easily penetrating it because the bullet’s energy was focused on a smaller area. The brittle layer then shattered outward due to the flexing of the inner layer and did not hinder the bullet’s progress.

Based on what he knew about the Suburban and all the high-ranking officials who had used it before him, Payne decided the vehicle would be equipped with all the latest features.

Only one way to find out, he thought.

He twisted in the driver’s seat and stared out the back of the SUV. He put his finger in one ear while pressing his shoulder against the other to protect his ears from the noise of a gun firing in an enclosed space. Thirty seconds passed before the gunman inched around the corner. He swept his gun from side to side, searching for possible targets on the street and near the building. Due to the tint in the SUV’s windows, he had no idea Payne was still inside the vehicle, staring at him over the tip of his handgun, patiently waiting to strike.

Second after second ticked by as the gunman crept forward. Finally, when he was no more than five feet from the Suburban, Payne calmly pulled his trigger.

The shot ripped through the rear window like it was passing through paper. It struck the gunman just below his left ear and rattled around the interior of his skull before it settled in his temporal lobe. The bastard didn’t feel a thing. He was dead before he hit the sidewalk.

From his position near the elevator, Jones saw a gun pointing at Megan, who was cowering away from the weapon. Considering everything that had transpired during the past couple of minutes, Jones wasted no time before he sprang into action. Sprinting across the lobby, he jumped head first over the couch and tackled the man who was threatening her.

No warnings. No threats. Just a forearm and his opponent’s head.

One moment Paul was questioning Megan, the next he was on the floor with a set of handcuffs wrapped around his neck like a hangman’s noose. Kneeling on the cop’s back, Jones applied constant pressure, slowly but surely choking the life out of Paul.

‘Drop the gun,’ Jones hissed, ‘or die!’

Paul did as he was told, and it clanked to the floor.

‘Don’t kill him,’ Megan said as she scrambled forward. ‘He saved my life.’

‘That doesn’t give him the right to take it.’

She touched Jones’s shoulder. ‘Ease up. Please, ease up.’

Begrudgingly, Jones let him breathe. ‘Why’d you pull a gun on her?’

‘Someone killed Vinnie,’ he gasped, fighting for air.

‘What’s your point? We didn’t do it. You were with us the whole time.’

‘I thought you might have a partner.’

Jones considered the cop’s answer. It was a valid point. If their roles had been reversed, he would have assumed the same thing. ‘We’re the good guys. We don’t kill cops.’

Megan nodded. ‘That’s what I was telling him when you kicked his ass.’

‘Come here,’ Jones said to her. ‘Get his keys, and unlock my cuffs. Once my hands are free, I’ll let him go. I’ve got no beef with him.’

‘Left hip,’ Paul mumbled as he tasted the floor.

Megan grabbed the keys from his belt and undid the lock. Still not in a trusting mood, Jones picked up the cop’s gun and handed it to Megan, who stared at it with a mixture of fear and confusion. ‘What do I do with this?’

‘Point it away from us,’ Jones said as he climbed off the cop and turned him over. Ironically, Paul had the same look in his eye as Megan. ‘Listen to me. I am a licensed investigator from Pittsburgh. I did not kill your partner. My partner did not kill your partner. In fact, none of us killed your partner. Do you understand?’

Paul nodded his head, still catching his breath.

‘Whoever killed your partner wants us dead. They already killed her neighbour, and they’ve been gunning for us all weekend. Do you believe me?’

Paul nodded again.

‘Good,’ Jones said as he snatched the gun from Megan and handed it to Paul, ‘because we need all the firepower we can get. My partner’s name is Jon, and he’s a big white dude.’

The colour returned to Paul’s face once his Glock was back in his hand. ‘I called for backup. They should be here soon—’

Just then they heard a loud rumble, followed by a deafening crash as the back end of the Chevy Suburban fishtailed through the lobby entrance and shattered the remaining windows. As the vehicle skidded to a stop, the SUV’s trunk slowly rose open.

Payne stared at them from the driver’s seat. ‘Need a lift?’

Jones grinned at the stunned cop. ‘Feel free to stick around, but my backup just arrived.’