Girl Takes Up Her Sword (24 page)

Before Dave could strike her, she leaned over and jammed the heel of her foot into his face in a fierce side-kick, without releasing the other guard’s hand. He stumbled backwards, tripping over his own feet and falling to the ground, dazed. In a single, fluid movement, she brought her knee around to the back of the other guard’s neck. He fell forward and his face struck the gravel drive hard. He lay there, motionless. When Dave tried to shake off the fog that had infiltrated his brain, she dropped to one knee next to him and struck him sharply across the bridge of his nose with a palm-heel strike.

“Nap time, sleepy head.”

She checked the other man for a pulse, then removed their weapons and tossed them over the hedge. It was still a quarter mile to the main house and she didn’t feel like walking. The keys to the Crown Vic parked next to the guardhouse hung from a hook next to the phone and the video screen. No sign of an alarm showed on the screen. Everything seemed calm. She drove down to the main house.

No one greeted her as she stepped out of the car. In fact, she didn’t see any security anywhere along the front of the house, though she did notice several cameras. Six steps led up to a large portico with classical columns. She didn’t expect any longer to have the element of surprise on her side—might as well ring the doorbell.

“We’ve been expecting you, Miss Kane,” said the large man in a dark gray business suit who answered the door.

“I doubt that,” she snorted back at him. “I’m here to see Burzynski.”

“What makes you think he’s here?”

“I’m not sure I care,” she said. “It’s enough that he knows I can come back anytime.”

The large man cupped his hand to the side of his head, where she noticed a small earpiece.

“The Director will see you now. You’ll have to leave the hardware here.”

He motioned to the sword handle peeking out from the bottom of her jacket. She noticed two more men in dark suits take up positions a few feet behind her on either side. They must have come from a door by the bottom of the steps, concealed by the shrubbery.

“You mean this little thing?” she asked, innocently. “I’d rather keep it with me, if it’s all the same to you. Besides, with all the guns you guys must be packing, you can’t really be worried about a little girl with a sword.”

He smiled, obviously not fooled by her attempt to charm them.

“Do we have to take it off you?”

With a nod, he signaled to the other two men. They stepped forward, hands on guns. She let her hand drop casually next to the sword handle.

“You know, the problem with a sword: it’s not that easy to use it without killing somebody. You seem like good guys. I’d rather not take your lives today. And I’m not here to take your boss’s life either. Just let me pass, and live another day.”

“Fine, Princess.” he said with a bemused smile. “After you.”

She squeezed past him, knowing well enough it wouldn’t be as simple as that.

“That’s quite a rig you got there, young lady,” he said, casually placing his hand on her hip.

In what must have been intended as a subtle move, he grabbed the hand by the sword, and swung a baton toward the back of her head. What he didn’t count on was how quickly she’d be able to slip a side-kick under his chin. Of course, to reach that high, she had to lean over, which brought her head out of the path of the baton. Once the kick connected, he desperately wanted to release her hand in order to clutch at his throat. She grabbed his wrist before he could pull away, twisted it down and stepped through, spinning him around and down until his head contacted the edge of the open door. As he slid to the floor, she kicked him in the back, effectively slamming the door shut before the two men on the porch could make it through. The logjam at the front door created by his limp body and the deadbolt she slid home bought her a free moment to look for Burzynski. No one dead yet.

~~~~~~~

The study was nestled behind a concealed door next to a large fireplace in the front living room. The pattern of wear on the floor gave it away. She heard the sounds of frantic footsteps as she stepped through and pulled the door closed behind her. The room she found herself in had the air of an English gentleman’s library: fireplace, oriental rug, leather sofa and armchair, book shelves on every wall—“Does he really read this much?” she wondered. The gentle glow from an overcast sky lit up gauzy curtains drawn across a pair of French doors, providing the only light in the room. Burzynski sat behind a large desk, apparently expecting her, a gun placed casually on an open book as if it were marking his place. At the far end of the room, two more men stood by another door with the practiced air of cold indifference favored by mercenaries.

“It’s good to see you again, Miss Kane. Please, have a seat.”

She perched on the edge of the sofa across from the desk so as to have unimpeded access to the sword handle.

“You won’t need that,” she said, pointing to the gun on his desk. “I’m not here to kill you. If I were, one of us would already be dead.”

“Then why bring the sword?”

“I had to make sure I could get past your guards. Don’t worry, they’re not dead. As if you cared about them,” she snorted.

“Okay. If you’re not here to kill me, what does bring you here, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Look. I don’t care about your little feud with Meacham. I just wish you’d leave me out of it.”

“Don’t play the innocent. It doesn’t become you. We know you’re working for him. We have video of you entering Seoul with Connie Savaransky, we know you met with Berea there, and he turned up dead a few hours later.”

Emily smiled and shook her head wearily.

“Don’t forget Kamchatka.”

“Yes,” he said. “What did happen there?”

“I guess the Chinese didn’t share their intel with you.”

“I guess not.”

“You know, I already gave a video of the main events to Berea,” she said in a mocking tone. “He was very moved by what he saw.”

“Was that before or after you killed him and his team?”

“Since you must already know who really did that, I have to wonder why you’d bother insulting me with such an accusation.”

“Exactly what your role was in those events has yet to be determined in a court of law. But I can assure you, it will be.”

“That’s rich. You kidnap a child in order to force me to go with Colonel Park, and you have the nerve to act like you’re not just a simple criminal.”

“I suppose it hasn’t occurred to you that Colonel Park was an important intelligence asset. I’m only doing my duty as a patriot, and that includes securing you and your mother as dangerous anti-American elements.”

“And what patriotic purpose did it serve to send a sniper team to shoot up my high school graduation? And you can save the denials—Harkness and Bermudez are already in custody.”

Burzynski had no answer.

“Fine,” she said. “Have it your way. But you’re mistaken about Meacham. I don’t work with him or for him.”

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“If I went public with your activities,” she continued, “I doubt very much anyone would mistake you for a patriot.”

“Then why haven’t you already gone public?”

“You can bet it isn’t to protect you,” she snorted.

“Well, I have a feeling that public scrutiny wouldn’t serve you very well either, Miss Kane, especially since your own crimes might come to light.”

The late afternoon sun broke through the clouds to stream through the French doors behind Emily. Burzynski raised his hand to shield his eyes from the glare just as the report of automatic gunfire reached both their ears. He grabbed his gun and leveled it at her. The mercenaries moved to take up positions on either side of the sofa.

“What have you done, you foolish girl?”

A loud explosion shook the building and the sounds of yelling and footsteps running through the house could be heard. One of the men Emily recognized from the front porch leaned in through the door at the far end of the room.

“We’re under attack, sir. It’s a full breach.”

“Where’s my daughter? Are they in the bunker?”

“No sir,” he replied.

“Find them,” Burzynski barked.

He waved the gun and cursed at her.

“You won’t get away with this.”

“It’s nothing to do with me,” she said with a mischievous smile. “But it is good to see you get a taste of what I’ve had to endure this past year.”

He shook his gun at her, as if he wished he could risk shooting her, but clearly thinking better of it.

The far door swung open again, and a woman who looked to be in her early thirties, old to Emily’s eyes, pushed a little girl of no more than ten through and followed her in.

“Dad, what’s happening?” she asked.

“Valerie. Thank goodness, you’re safe,” he cried out. “You and Tati need to get to the bunker right away.”

The little girl ran over to the desk and threw her arms around Burzynski’s legs.

“Grandpa, I’m scared.”

“You have to go with your mommy. Quickly,” he said. “You need to get to safety.”

She began to cry as he pushed her over to her mother.

“Tati, come to Mommy. Hurry” Valerie implored, casting a nervous, sidelong glance at Emily.

Two more security men came through the door by the fireplace, and the ones by Emily moved to the other door, guns drawn. The sound of gunfire drew them into the corridor beyond the door.

“It’s time to go, Sir,” the man by the fireplace said.

“The house is no longer defensible?”

“No, Sir.”

Before Burzynski could respond, a long, blood-soaked blade broke through the man’s chest. In the time it took for the second man to react to what he was seeing, his partner slid forward off the blade and fell with a thud across the doorway. As he turned to face his attacker, the blade slashed through his chest and he fell backwards into the room. Valerie screamed and pulled Tati to her, trying to cover her eyes. Dressed entirely in black, like some sort of ninja, David Walker stepped over the dead bodies into the room, eyes wild, dripping sword in hand. Emily stepped back toward the French doors and wondered if he would even recognize her. The sounds of a raging gun battle echoed through the open door.

“You,” Burzynski yelled, and fired wildly at him.

Walker took cover behind the corner of the fireplace. Burzynski scowled at Emily as another hidden panel in the wall behind him swung open. He gestured to Valerie and Tati to come to him, but the little girl was frozen in place. Her mother reached back to pull her along. This slight delay allowed Walker to surge forward and threaten their path. In that brief moment, before he could bring the sword around, the panel swung shut and Burzynski was gone. No amount of prying could get the panel open, and hurling himself against it accomplished even less.

Enraged, Walker raised his sword to slash through the mother and daughter. Before he could bring the sword down, Emily thrust her sword to block his with the side of the blade.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I won’t let you hurt them.”

“Don’t you know who they are? These are the people who destroyed your family.”

“No, Uncle David. They’re innocents, and I will protect them.”

“Don’t be naive. Did Burzynski care about Michael’s son, or about you, for that matter? We have to kill them all.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” Emily said. “I’m not an avenger.”

“They won’t ever leave us alone. Don’t you understand that? And don’t pretend you’re above killing. I saw the video you gave Berea. That was bloody work you did in Kamchatka. And what about Kim and his men?”

“I’m not your partner. What you’re doing has nothing to do with me.”

“Don’t be so sure, Emily. Destroying the compound in Kamchatka was a good first step. But you didn’t do anything about the scientists who worked for Colonel Park. The Chinese were bound to track them down and rebuild the program. Or didn’t you think about that? Who do you think hunted them all down? I can’t keep cleaning up after you.”

Emily was speechless. Of course, in his perverse way, he was right. She hadn’t accounted for everything in Kamchatka. But the idea of killing every scientist who might have had any connection to Colonel Park was disgusting. Even worse was the notion that she might actually need him.

“Get behind me,” she said to Valerie.

“Don’t get in my way,” he snarled at her. “I love you like a daughter, but I won’t hesitate to strike you down.”

He swung his sword at her head and she leaned out of the way. She parried or evaded his next few strikes, but he was faster, and she knew it. She also lacked the will to attack him. He spun through a slashing stroke that missed, but slapped her face as he came around. In the brief moment it took her to recover, a back thrust caught her in the abdomen and plunged all the way through. She felt it burst out the back just above her hip. The passage of the blade burned and stung a bit, but didn’t hurt nearly as much as she thought such a wound might. Perhaps she was in shock.

Her sword clattered on the floor as she reached around his hip from behind to control the handle of his sword. She was totally vulnerable, but if she let him pull his sword from her body, he’d be able to spin and slash at her again. Her head finally went numb from the pain and the shock of the wound, and sweat poured out over her. Unless she could snap out of it, she had no chance of surviving, or protecting anyone else.