The Lions Of Lucerne

72

It took Claudia twenty minutes to run her errands and gather most of the equipment she and Scot would need. As she crept through the back door of her apartment building, his words still echoed in her mind. The fact that her apartment would be watched was a given. There was probably a person or persons watching her office as well.

As she crept quietly up the stairs, she wished she hadn’t talked Scot out of coming with her. It was a silly thought and she knew it, but she felt safe around him. When she got to the top landing, she turned and walked toward apartment 5B. As her left hand trailed along the iron railing, her right gripped the butt of her SIG-Sauer. She was grateful that Scot had given her his remaining three nine-millimeter rounds.

At the door, she examined the locks closely for any signs that they had been tampered with. There were none. She pulled her keys from her pocket, selected the correct one, and gently slid it into the lock. Quietly, she turned back the upper lock and then repeated the process on the lower. The door slid noiselessly open on its hinges. Claudia pushed it the rest of the way, to make sure no one was standing behind it. Scot had warned her not to turn on the lights, because it might alert anyone watching the front of the building that she had returned home. She took a moment to let her eyes get accustomed to the darkness that was growing outside her windows and filling the apartment.

Her weight distributed evenly between both legs and her feet in a wide stance, Claudia reached out with her left hand for the brass doorknob of the hall closet. She twisted, but it wouldn’t budge. Piece of junk, she thought to herself. You always needed to put your weight against the door and lift up on the knob to get it open. Claudia didn’t like having to get that close, but she had no choice. She took a deep breath and in one quick movement leaned against the door, twisted the handle, and popped it open.

She immediately jumped back, not quite sure of what she expected to come flying out at her. Nothing did. She saw two of the items she was looking for and, without setting down her pistol, removed them from the closet and placed them on the entryway floor.

Her heart was beating as she prepared to close the door, afraid someone would be standing on the other side when she swung it shut. She knew she was being too cautious, but somehow that didn’t seem like a bad thing. Moving backward toward the front door, she raised her pistol to chest level and nudged the closet door closed with her foot. There was nothing behind it except her living room.

Claudia quickly swept the living room and the kitchen. Both were empty. It was the same in the bathroom and the linen closet. She gathered some extra medical supplies so she could change Scot’s dressing and, entering the bedroom, tossed them on the bed. She walked along its edge, toward her closet, and let out a scream as a hand reached out for her ankle.

Like an arrow being released from a bow, Claudia sprang away from the bed and the hand beneath it. Her back slammed into the wall, and she pointed her pistol at the figure that any second would emerge from underneath the bed and come for her. She waited, but whatever was under her bed refused to come out. She peered down the barrel of her SIG, the iridescent night sights illuminating the direction the bullet would take when she pulled the trigger.

Slowly, she focused beyond the gunsights to the underside of her bed. There, where she expected to see a sinister gloved hand, was the black nylon handle of one of the many bags she stored beneath the bed. Claudia exhaled in exasperation and laughed at herself for being so keyed up. She got down on her knees, placing her right hand on the mattress and her left on the floor for balance. She and Scot had decided they would each need a midsize backpack, and Claudia had two that would work perfectly. If only she could pull them out.

Claudia left the gun on the mattress and with both hands dug deeper into the tangled mess of bags. As she dug, she brushed against something that didn’t feel like it belonged…the hand!

In the blink of an eye the powerful hands encased in black leather were wrapped in a vise grip around Claudia’s wrists, and she was yanked off balance. Without the use of her hands to break her fall, she hit her head on the wooden bed frame and was instantly dizzy.

The stranger quickly kicked away the bags and slid out from beneath the bed. He was dressed completely in black.

Claudia shook her head to escape the fog that had enveloped it. Before the man could get on his feet, Claudia flipped onto her side and lashed out with a strong kick toward his groin. It missed, and she scored only a glancing blow to his upper thigh.

“Fucking little bitch,” the man growled.

English. Not one of Miner’s. Scot was right. The American hit team is watching my apartment. That means they don’t know where Scot is. He’s safe-

Before Claudia could finish her thought, the man was on his feet. He jerked her to a standing position and twisted one arm hard behind her back.

“Where is he?” the man snarled.

“Who?”

Still keeping her arm held high behind her back, the man grabbed a handful of Claudia’s long brown hair. Wrapping it around his hand, he whipped her head back and then slammed her face forward into the mirror of her armoire. The glass shuddered, but didn’t break. Claudia, though, felt as if her face had been broken into a million pieces. She could feel a warm trickle of blood begin to run from her nose. Then she tasted the coppery essence in her mouth.

“Do you want to play stupid? Or do you want to cooperate?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about. Please.”

With one hand tangled in her hair and the other pinning her arm behind her, the man dragged Claudia from her bedroom. She tried to resist, but he tightened his grip, causing even more excruciating pain to shoot through her body. Despite the pain, she tried to make it as difficult as possible for him to pull her down the small hallway toward the…Oh, no, please! Not the bathroom.

Claudia had always harbored a terrible fear of drowning, ever since she’d been a little girl. If they were going toward the bathroom, it could mean only one thing. He was going to torture her with water.

He kicked the door open and flicked on the light switch with his elbow. Releasing Claudia’s arm, he punched her hard in the kidney, and she dropped immediately to her knees in front of the toilet. He threw open the lid with such force that it snapped off the hinges and clattered onto the tile floor.

“Last chance. Where is he? Where’s Harvath?”

Claudia was paralyzed with fear, but she knew she could not give Scot up.

“Go to hell,” she spat.

“Fine, have it your way,” said her torturer as he locked her slim neck in his powerful grasp and plunged her face into the bowl.

Claudia struggled wildly, her arms flailing in all directions. What a horrible way to die. The man was showing no mercy. She felt as if she had been held under for five minutes, even though she knew that was impossible. Finally, he pulled her face from the water. Claudia breathed as deeply as she could and then began coughing and sputtering.

“Feel like talking now? Tell me what I want to know and I’ll let you go.”

“Like hell you will,” said Claudia. “Fuck off. I’m not telling you anything.”

With a sigh the man said, “Women,” and shoved her head back down into the water.

Claudia tried desperately not to struggle this time. She needed every ounce of strength she had. She let her arms go limp next to the bowl. When the man had pulled her out the first time, he had pulled her head so far back she thought her neck would surely snap. He had placed his face so close to hers that she could smell his fetid breath.

Not struggling seemed to make the time she was under water drag on for twice as long. He was not going to let her up this time until she was dead. The plan she had begun to formulate was all for nothing. She might as well try struggling again. At least she would go out fighting. Then she felt the pressure on her neck let up ever so slightly and her head was yanked violently from the toilet. Now was her chance.

“Are you done playing games, you stupid little bitch, or do you really want to be drowned? Is that what you want? Huh? Huh?” With each Huh? the man emphasized his point by jerking her head back even farther and harder. Claudia was seeing spots. The man’s face was pressed right against hers. She could taste the rotten onions on his breath and feel the stubble of his whiskers against her cheeks. Her fingers kept groping forward. Where was it?

“It would be a shame to kill you, you know. You are one nice-looking woman. I’d much rather you and I have a little fun, but you’re not making it easy on yourself. Tell me what I need to know and we’ll have a party. If you don’t, I’ll simply have to drown you, but-”

Claudia had found what she was looking for. Behind the toilet was a stainless steel toilet brush that had a decorative plastic ruby on top. The point of the plastic gem was sharp enough that she was able to drive it right into her assailant’s left eye.

The man roared in pain. He let go of Claudia to free his hands, which shot directly up to his face. She slid away across the tile as quickly as she could. He pulled the long-handled brush from his eye and grabbed for a towel to try to stem the flow of blood.

“You fucking bitch! Now you’re going to pay! Do you hear me?! Do you hear me?!” he raged.

Claudia certainly did hear him. She was already on her feet running for her bedroom. The gun? Where is my gun? Frantically she searched for it. It wasn’t on the edge of the bed where she had left it. Somehow during their struggle it must have gotten knocked off. She could hear the man’s incessant screaming as he came out of the bathroom down the hallway, “Where are you, you little bitch? I’m going to make you wish you were never born!”

Come on, where is it? Claudia scrambled wildly under the bed, her arms sweeping out in all directions. She had only a few more seconds before the man would be right in the bedroom with her. Her mind shuddered at the possibilities of what he might do to her, and she searched with an even greater frenzy. It isn’t here! Could he have taken it? He didn’t have enough time. His hands were busy holding me. Where could it have gone? Why can’t I find it?

Then Claudia realized maybe it hadn’t fallen off the bed at all. She swept the remaining few bags out of her path and shot for the other side. Crawling out from under the bed, she almost froze as she heard the sound of the man’s voice in the doorway. “There you are. Trying to hide from me? Well, it’s too late. Time to die, lady!”

The man began firing wildly with a silenced Russian PM, Pistole Makarov. Claudia’s bedside lamp shattered, as did a picture on the wall behind her. The damage to the man’s left eye had ruined his aim. Claudia ducked her head. The gun? How do I get my gun? It must still be on the bed. It has to be.

Grabbing the comforter with both hands, Claudia pulled down hard, stretching it taut. Preferring a hand be shot rather than her head, she raised one above the level of the mattress and swept it from right to left. She felt something cold and hard. The gun! She grabbed it and quickly removed her hand from the bed.

“You know what, bitch? I’ve got a nice little knife here,” said the man.

The shooting had stopped for the moment, and Claudia heard the unmistakable click of a blade locking into place.

“I think you and I are going to have that party first, and then I’m going to let you watch while I cut you up. And then, you know what I’m going to do? I’m going to let you watch as I pluck each of your eyes from your head. Now get out here and take your medicine!”

Claudia pulled the slide back on her SIG and saw that there was already a round chambered.

“I told you to go to hell!” she shouted as she rose from behind the bed and put two slugs into the man’s chest.

He dropped the knife from his hand and slumped to the floor.

From the corner of her eye, Claudia saw the barrel of another gun in the doorframe of her bedroom. She whirled and fired, sending splintering pieces of wood flying. That was her last shot. She vaulted over the bed and landed on the corpse of the man who had intended to kill her. She grabbed for his pistol and fell back on her haunches ready to fire at the figure in the hallway.

“Claudia? Claudia? It’s me, Scot. Hold your fire. Don’t shoot. It’s only me. I’m going to come into the doorway. Don’t shoot.”

As soon as she saw it was him, shock took over and she began to sob uncontrollably.