The TF-77 Trilogy Page 4

Karen nodded and Hudson poured two glasses.

  “More.” Karen spoke for the first time.

  Hudson looked at her and then filled the glass meant for her.

  “Do you have ice?” She asked.

  “With wine?” Hudson sounded surprised.

  “Yes.” she replied flatly.

  Hudson wasn’t prepared for this, but he hoped that the hotel refrigerator would have some. Instead of instructing Karen to get it, he oddly decided to do it himself. He walked towards the refrigerator and opened it. It had ice cubes. For how long they had been there he didn’t know and certainly didn’t care.

  Karen watched Hudson lumbering to the mini-refrigerator. As the light fell properly on the 63-year-old, she saw a body that was frail and failing. Hudson didn’t know he was being watched. Karen examined his back while he checked the refrigerator for ice and felt a strange aversion. Hudson turned around and walked back towards the table. She turned her head to the other side. It was hard to watch him without feeling nauseated.

  Hudson put the ice down on the table and turned to face Karen, but he knew something had changed. He could see it in her eyes.

  “How many?” he asked her about the cubes.

  “Couple of.” She responded, trying hard to hide her hate for him.

  He dropped two and offered her the glass. She took it. Hudson turned to take his glass when Karen jerked her hand. The ice cubes hit Hudson’s face first and then the wine. He recoiled, his hands coming up to cover his face. Karen threw her glass on the carpeted floor and grabbed Hudson’s neck from behind, bringing it down fiercely. Blinded and shocked, Hudson couldn’t offer any resistance and his skull hit the corner of the wooden table with extreme force. His entire world appeared to collapse, and he fell on his knees.

  Next, Karen grabbed the wine bottle and smashed it on the table, breaking it from the middle. She then swung her hand, and the broken bottle pierced Hudson’s right arm. He screamed with all his might.

  “What the fuck!” he yelled. “Help me.” He was crying.

  She then pulled the bottle out and stepped back. Hudson yelled louder. She didn’t care what the old man was spitting at her. Her mind was occupied. She quickly grabbed her purse and took out a large poly bag, throwing the bloodied bottle into it. She then came back and grabbed her wineglass, and put it in the bag, too. She then went into the restroom and washed the blood off her hands. Quickly putting on her dress, she took out a cotton cloth and wrapped it around her right hand. She had to remove her fingerprints from everything she had touched in the room. Hudson was still on the floor, flopping in a pool of his own blood, yelling for help. She looked at him with abhorrence before closing the door behind her.

  She wanted to hurt him, but not kill him.

  Hudson couldn’t admit to meeting Karen here and he would always be afraid that she wouldn’t hesitate to tell all if there was ever an inquiry. In all senses, that would be the end of Hudson’s legacy. She knew, however, that Hudson would not leave her alone. She was still on the losing side of the case and this would just escalate her downfall in the department. He would use all the leverage he had to make sure she would be gone forever. She could blackmail him, but she didn’t know to what extent and for how long. It was her only option, though she was reluctant to use it. She would have to think about it soon but, right now, she had to get out of there.

  The third-floor corridor was still deserted. The rooms seemed to be unoccupied, at least on this floor. Hudson had chosen the room smartly. No other guests meant there would be no witnesses. Karen didn’t wait for the elevator but took the stairs. On her way up, she had seen the main entry door that opened onto the main street. That was the best way out. The only problem might be the man at the reception, but she didn’t care.

  As she descended the stairs, she normalized her walk. No bloodstains on her, she had made sure of that. She was coming off unharmed and untouched. What she felt inside, however, was a different matter. No one could tell that that she was shaken and fidgety inside for sure until she gave them a chance.

  The reception was deserted. The man had gone, possibly for a smoke or to sleep. She didn’t care. The wall clock behind the reception table told her that the night was approaching twelve. She got out of the building and stepped into the deserted main street. It was badly lit, but still better than the dark back alley.

  CHAPTER 9

  She checked her cell. No cabs. She had to walk, there was no other option.

  But she had to run. Someone from the motel might come looking for her soon.

  Her high heels didn’t do her any good. She again checked the cab-hailing app on her cell. No cabs near her. She kept inching away from the building. Every step in those heels was a struggle. Half an hour later, she still wasn’t very far from the precinct. The fear of getting ambushed from behind was clouding her judgment with each step. What if Hudson’s men or Samara grabbed her from behind? What would she do then? She didn’t have her gun with her. It had been seized by the department because of the court case. She thought of taking her heels off but being barefoot on the concrete road would only slow her down further. She was still deciding when she heard them.

  Faint footsteps. She hesitated and looked back. The footsteps stopped. Quick as a thought, she turned around. No one. She wasn’t imagining things. Someone was there. She was sure of that. She increased her speed. The footsteps resurfaced. Hastened. She stopped and swiftly looked back. Still no one. She turned and started to sprint, barefoot. The concrete road made her wince with each step. The footsteps sped up. She didn’t look back this time.

  Not far from her, a streetlamp was flickering. Underneath it, a Toyota was parked. Maybe she could get some help. But she still had to cross a dark alley to reach there.

  She could scream. She could scream for help. Her mouth opened. Her right hand rose involuntarily.

  But before she could say a word, an arm grabbed her from behind, seizing her throat and nipping her cry in the bud. Something sharp pierced the back of her neck. And before she could try to free herself, she crumpled face down on the ground like a tossed-out paper in the bin. Lying on the ground, as her eyes drooped shut, she saw a shadow standing next to her.

  CHAPTER 10

  The Present Day

  Loud ringing. Somebody’s phone was ringing.

  The back of her closed eyes was bright. Loud ringing again. The smell was gone. She opened her eyes. The burlap had been removed.

  She was in a room. It was a large hall with a very high roof, much like in a warehouse, with a lot of steel shelves. She felt her hands—they were free. She was still sitting on the chair but not bound by any ropes. Her head ached, but at least she was free. She was still in the same red dress and high heels.

  To her left was a door. Open. She got up and immediately stumbled. Her legs were still recovering from the tight leash. Why was she free? Who abducted her? All those questions were still in the air but she had to get out of here first. Whoever abducted her would come back soon, and she had to get out before. She gathered every inch of her strength and made her way to the door.

  Adrenaline rushed back through her veins as she started to move. Slowly, she was gaining back her stride. She moved cautiously, without making a sound; ready for anything. As soon as she walked out the door, she found herself in an aisle with racks of clothes lined across the walls. She turned to her right first to check the hallway. But when an unknown hand grabbed her left shoulder, she reacted instinctively. Without looking in that direction; she raised her left arm, freeing her shoulder from the grip. Her right fist followed closely, landing forcefully on the lower part of the man’s breastbone. The man wasn’t ready for the assault and couldn’t absorb the hard blow. Karen’s right arm recoiled, and then her fist swung back with the same force, hitting his breastbone at the center this time, breaking a few of his ribs. The man this time stumbled backwards, unable to regain his balance. Karen looked around and found a movable aluminum ladder. She grabbed it with both hands and
slammed its far end into the man’s skull. There was a cracking sound. She crouched and hit the ladder’s end on his knees. The man was now flat on the floor. She threw down the ladder and grabbed the closest rack and pulled it forward to fall on to the man, giving him no chance to come back with an answer.

  She paused to check the corridor. The walls were lined with ceiling-height racks, with overcoats and clothes on them. A few of the overcoats were also hanging in the court racks. She checked the closest one to her and luckily found a bunch of keys. She hastened down the same hallway from which the man had appeared. The corridor was dimly lit, with a light bulb hanging in the middle and fighting the darkness. Keys in her right fist, she ran towards the other end. There had to be a door somewhere in there. She was near the light bulb when a man stepped into the hallway, some thirty yards away from her, making her stop in her tracks.

  Her grip tightened around the keys. The pointed blade of the key was pointing out between her fingers.

  “Where are you going?” The man asked calmly.

  “Who are you?”

  “None of your business.” He moved cautiously towards her.

  “Did Hudson send you?”

  “You’ll know soon.” He was now dangerously close, so she threw the first punch, aiming the blade of the key towards his left eye. The man was ready. He grabbed Karen’s shooting arm with both hands and moved his body away from the line of attack. His left hand grabbed her wrist and his right hand was on her arm. He jerked her unstable body and pushed her forward. Freeing his right arm, he grabbed the back of her neck, making her wince with pain. In three moves, he was on top, and that was his first mistake. Karen used her opponent’s momentum as he attacked and kept on with the rotation, crouching during the middle of the turn. The man wasn’t ready for this and his grip on Karen’s neck loosened. She pulled herself away from the attacker and freed herself from his grip.

  In the next second, her left fist landed squarely on the left side of his rib cage. He was taken aback by the agility of his opponent. Karen followed her first successful punch with another left punch to his face, but the man blocked it with his right hand and grabbed her arm again. With his left hand, he grabbed her neck and pulled her closer.

  She grunted.

  He smiled.

  Their bodies swayed in tandem, moving clockwise. The man led. Karen had to follow. Karen jerked her hands away from the attacker, again freeing herself from his grip. The man stumbled. The girl was faster than he had expected.

  But he could praise her later because Karen had already thrown a right punch and the key’s blade swung at the man’s face. He jerked away and Karen missed. She threw a left punch at his face and he jerked away. Missed again. She changed tactics, and this time aimed for his stomach, connecting this time. The key’s blade could have punctured his stomach, but his jacket saved him. Karen came back quickly with a follow-up punch to the man’s face, but he used his left hand to block it. Another right punch, but the man ducked this time. Karen was out of breath. The man had been waiting for this. Her next punch was weak, and he again grabbed her arm and neck, pulling her closer. His hand knocked into her head. His hands tightened on her neck but he missed the punch coming from beneath, making it through the space between his arms. The fist connected with the lower part of his jaw and his head jerked back. She took this opportunity to get out of his grip.

  Once free, she clutched her hands together and, with a Hammer throw, smashed a massive punch into his face. The man stumbled back wildly. She quickly saw the opportunity and kicked his left knee, only to be immediately surprised. The man had not only handled the blow successfully but had gotten back to his feet in no time. But it would still not be enough because Karen had positioned the key’s blade in her right hand again and swung it towards his left cheek. The key pierced the man’s soft skin and got stuck. The man’s smile was gone. The bunch clanked as he got back to his feet. He pulled it out without hesitation. Karen was out of breath and couldn’t escape when the man stormed at her like a raging bull, blood dripping from his cheek.

  He grabbed Karen’s neck and slammed her body into the wall behind her, forcing the air out of her lungs. She gagged, but the man’s grip only tightened. Her legs, hanging in the air, tried to hit something but failed. In the light of the only bulb, her eyes rested on the man’s glowing face. She had seen him before, but where?

  CHAPTER 11

  “That’s enough.” A voice reverberated in the hallway. The man’s grip loosened and then, as if she was a doll, he brought Karen back to the ground. As soon as her feet touched the floor, he backed away from her. He was still attentive but not hostile, as if someone had flicked a switch in him. Karen didn’t understand any of this, but she was still wary of the man who, a second ago, had almost killed her.

  “Karen, we would like to talk to you. Mark, please escort Ms. Karen to the briefing room.”

  Karen looked at the man who was just trying to kill her. He nodded his head and moved towards the door from which he had appeared.

  “Who are you?” Karen remained where she was. She would not follow orders from a disembodied voice. There wasn’t any response. The man waited for Karen to join him at the door. He was observing her as if this was the most reasonable thing to do in that place and he had seen enough people in the same situation, weighing their options.

  “You coming?” He asked.

  Karen remained in place, thinking hard. The man waited for a couple of seconds before disappearing into the darkness beyond the door.

  “Shit,” Karen muttered under her breath and followed him. Her curiosity had finally gotten the best of her. The door led her to a room. The man wasn’t there, but the room was brighter than the corridor outside because of a light spilling into the room from a second door to her left. Karen followed the light and found that the door led to a long narrow corridor with multiple doors on both sides. Unlike the one she was coming from, this hallway was well lit, though the peeling paint still made sure it had something in common with the rest of the building.

  She stepped into the hallway and immediately felt as though the air had become lighter and fresher. There was no foul smell either. In fact, there was no smell at all. Her eyes scanned the confined space as she slowly walked down the hallway. What she didn’t notice was that the door behind her had been noiselessly shut and, as soon as it was closed, another door in the hallway opened. The man whom she followed reappeared at that door. He looked at her. Her apprehensive posture was telling of her mental state. He waited for her without saying a word. She paused for a moment and then looked back. The door from where she came from was shut. She didn’t know when, but going back and checking it if it would open would have been foolish. She had taken a leap of faith and her gut was telling her to move forward. She was still not ready to see what lay ahead, but it was her gut feeling that made her move along.

  Considering every option available to her, which, in reality, were not many, she turned back to face the man and walked to the open door. Once closer, the man motioned her to go inside. It was another room with a chair and a wooden table at its center.

  “Karen, please take a seat.” The same modulated voice sounded through the room through two tiny but powerful speakers.

  Karen looked back at the man who stared back at her indifferently. She then looked back at the setting in front of her. The room was an interrogation room and this time; she was on the wrong side of it.

  “I’m good.” She spoke to the voice, not knowing how it would be construed. She was in unfamiliar territory with no knowledge of the ground rules. But this was also a way to test the waters on how much latitude she could negotiate from the voice.

  “As you please.” The voice didn’t take offense. “Mark, please close the door.”

  The man closed the door and walked across the room to stand at the opposite corner. His hands were folded, and his gaze was fixed on Karen. Karen walked across the room and positioned herself at a comfortable distance from Mark.
Two close circuit television cameras mounted at two corners of the concrete roof rotated and then, after a slight adjustment, glared at Karen. Their whirring sounds seemed weird in the silent room. Karen saw them coming to a standstill.

  “Where am I?” Karen fired the first shot, looking at Mark. She had already had enough of this veiled secrecy and abduction.

  “You are in a secure facility in New Jersey.” The response came from the voice.

  “Why am I here?”

  “My team thinks you’re a good prospect for the work we do.”

  “What kind of work?” Karen was getting bolder, but the voice didn’t oblige her with a response.

  “What team is this?” Unperturbed by the silence, Karen fired another question, which again met with no response.

  “Who are you?” She asked next.

  “You don’t need to know that.” The voice responded this time.

  “Then I’d prefer to get out of here.”