Chapter twelve

MICHAEL’S POV

The door frame splintered and hit the floor. Dust and drywall powder filled the kitchen. I fell on one knee and dragged Anna down behind the island. Two men passed through the smoke. Black tactical gear. Suppressed rifles. They worked with trained spacing, surveying corners then sweeping the room. Not Basano’s usual street crew. These were professionals.

I pulled my pistol out of my waistband and put two bullets in the door frame. The noises were loud in the little kitchen. The first assailant jerked back and fired back. Bullets ate holes in the marble counter over my head. I lowered my head and looked at Anna. She was laid flat against the cabinets, breathing even, the ledger against her heart. She wasn’t panicking. She was following them.

Sofia, I said, in a low voice. “Exit route.”

Back fire escape, I replied, down the hall. Above sink. I will cover.

Sofia entered the room. She no longer had a phone in her hand or a med kit. In her right hand she held a small pistol, with a steady grip, and her eyes fixed on the assailants. I didn’t question where she kept it. I just nodded.

I sprang up, gave two shots, and drove the lead man behind the overturned dining-table. His companion raised his rifle against us. I moved my purpose and grabbed his shoulder. He threw the gun and hid behind the fridge. I didn’t wait. I caught hold of the wrist of Anna and pulled her over to the sink.

“Up. Now,” I said.

She moved fast. She jumped on the counter, kicked the latch of the window and pushed the glass out. The night air, cold, struck the kitchen. She scrambled up without a second thought. I trailed behind, pushing the frame of the window open with the bullets bouncing off the metal sill.

I fell in the alley of the building of Sofia. Anna had already been on the fire escape, and was descending the rusted stairs. I followed her, holding my gun up towards the window. Sofia sprung behind me, and landed lightly on the wet sidewalk.

“Move,” I said. Keep on, don’t stop.

We struck the ground floor, and ran to the street. My footwear smacked puddles. Anna breathed sharply, yet in control. The street led to a small service road. At the extreme end stood a black SUV, which was idling with his Headlights off. Two other men were at the doors, sweeping the alley.

Wrong way, I said to myself. I caught hold of Anna by the arm, and dragged her into a small opening between two brick structures. We scraped through, with shoulders against wet concrete. The doorway led into a darkened courtyard with dumpsters and wires in a jumble. We cowered behind a metal bin and flattened our backs against the brick.

There were footsteps on the pavement. Heavy. Deliberate. Two sets. They were raking the court.

I glanced at my magazine. Three rounds left. Not sufficient to fight a fire. I looked at Anna. She brushed rain off her cheek, and stared where the men would come. She had white knuckles round the ledger, but her posture did not tremble. She was awaiting my call.

The footsteps stopped. A torchlight fell upon the court, and swept the dumpsters. It paused on our hiding spot.

I came out of the bin, and, holding my gun in rest, continued to point it at the chest of the first man. He froze. The second man wheeled, his hands half up to his rifle. I did not drop my gun. I walked up to a point when I could see his face in the streetlamp.

I knew him.

Vance. Not the logistics rival. The head of security of Elena. Former military. Before the assassination, I had seen him a dozen times on the estate of my father. He was in a dark windbreaker, and had no armor, and no visible weapon. He looked tired.

Hold fire, he said. His voice was calm. “We’re not here to shoot.”

Why did you blow my door then? I asked. I didn’t lower the gun.

We were instructed to get the ledger. Not you. Not the girl. The book only. His hands were in view. Your mother had the retrieval. She said you had lost your edge.

My jaw tightened. My mother does not place orders on safehouses.

This one was ordered by her. Vance didn’t blink. She said you were perusing old files and making erroneous conclusions. She said the ledger was not intended to you.

I heard Anna move behind me. She came out of the shadows still holding the ledger to her side. She continued staring at Vance. Why should Elena send men to kick in a door when she wants it so much, when she can call him?

Vance at last gazed upon her. Since he will not respond to her. Since she understands that you are in possession of the only evidence that can clear the name of your father. She is no longer trying to conceal the truth but trying to manage the blow back.

I held the gun in place. “Control it how?”

Vance put his hand into his jacket. I was about to shoot. He took out a burner phone and threw it on the wet road between us. It glided to a halt at my boot. The screen lit up. Incoming call. Caller ID: *Mother.*

I stared at it. The rain dripped on the screen. I didn’t pick it up. I only held my goal on the chest of Vance.

Respond to it, he said. Or I am going to walk and the other squad will not mind collateral damage.

I drew in my gun, crouched, and tapped the speaker button. I didn’t say anything. I simply raised the phone.

The voice of Elena was clear and steady. No static. No panic. The same dead voice she had when I was a boy and she told me to sit straight at the dinner table.

“You’re chasing ghosts, Michael. The ledger doesn’t say what you think it says. Your father didn’t die because of Basano. He died because he found out what I was carrying. What I hid to keep this family intact.”

I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. “You’re lying.”

I am sick of lying. Her voice was lower, more solemn. The money to pay Angelo I did not sign; the money to pay the men who were going to kill you I signed; the night your father pulled the trigger it was not Basano who gave the order; it was you who gave the order.

The rain continued to fall. The cell phone screen shone between us. My shoulder was caught in the hand of Anna. I didn’t pull away. I simply gazed at the damp sidewalk and heard the silence when the line ceased.

Vance stepped back into the shadows. She will send more men unless you give it over. You have a day and a half before the press gets the footage. Think fast, Michael.”

He turned and walked away. His partner followed. The courtyard became silent except to the sound of traffic in the distance and the drumming of the rain on metal.

I picked up the burner phone. Screen dark. I put it in my pocket. I turned to Anna. She was observing me, face pale, but unwavering. She did not inquire whether it was so. She just waited.

I glanced at the ledger which she held. Then at my own. I didn’t remember giving an order. I recalled rushing to the pool. I recalled my father falling. I recalled the smoke and the sirens. I did not recall being in possession of a weapon. I have no recollection of calling.

But Elena didn’t lie without a reason. And she didn’t send men to break down doors unless she was desperate.

We are not giving it to her, I said. My voice was low but level. “We’re going to the estate. We’re going to pull the original security logs. And we’re going to find out who actually pulled the trigger.”

Anna nodded slowly. When we go through that gate we are going into her set-up.

“I know.” I stepped closer. I didn’t touch her. I simply stared at her. However, when it comes to her with the footage, I will not allow her to rewrite the death of my father in the absence of me in the room.

My jacket was buzzed by my phone. Not the burner. My main line. I pulled it out. One new message. Unknown sender.

You’re already inside the house. Check the basement. The cameras are not stopped.

I gazed at the screen. The lyrics were not understandable. Months had passed before I visited the property of my mother. I had not despatched any to violate it. Yet it was no warning. It was an affirmation.

Someone had been inside. And they left the door open.

I looked at Anna. She noticed the change in my face. She did not inquire what it was. She simply tightened her hold on the ledger and went out into the rain.

We are going, I said. “Now.”

We left the courtyard and hit the street. The light of the city was lost in the rain. I didn’t look back. I continued to walk on, already mapping the path, and computing the angles, and preparing to meet whatever was in the basement.

But, even as my feet touched the sidewalk, there was one thing that held me.

Elena was not only safeguarding herself had she had the footage.

She was guarding me.

And I did not know which of them I was more scared of.