The Shiva Objective

THREE

In the elevator, head-down, she glanced at the control panel, seeing the numbers light up. They stopped on the fifteenth floor and half the people got out. On the twentieth, all but two left. One was a thin Indian man wearing a traditional surka. The other was a German-looking guy with slick wavy blond hair, dressed in a blue business suit and carrying a silver briefcase.

Stands out like a sore thumb. She leaned against the back wall, between the two men, inching slightly toward the German, who was now whistling softly. His eyes darted sideways once, then back to the door.

Nina brushed against his shoulder, closed her eyes and got a flash of something…

That briefcase, open… a soft black Styrofoam interior, revealing a silver .38 revolver with a scope and a section for six gold-tipped bullets.

Smiling innocently, Nina turned to the Indian man as the twenty-seventh floor lit up. "Can I borrow a pen?" she asked, nodding to the three pens in his shirt pocket.

"Sure," the man said in decent English, handing her one as the doors opened. "My floor, so just keep it."

Nina leaned back, twirling the pen in her fingers. She glanced sideways and the German looked at her, nodding.

"Enjoying your time in Agra?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, then frowned and looked ahead, back at the panel. The 30^th floor lit up, two away from the Roof, and she imagined what he was thinking: she hadn't pressed another button, which meant… He turned, slowly, looking back at her, eyes widening.

And she sprang at him, burying the tip of the pen deep into one of those eyes.

When the doors opened, Nina stood up from the body, holding the .38, chambering the last of the six hollow-point rounds. She hefted it, appreciating the weight. Forget the Glock. This will do nicely for now.

She stepped out into the hot sunlight under a cloudless blue sky. Took two steps on the hot asphalt, smelled beer and rank sweat, and then froze. The four chairs ahead — empty.

No time to think, she ducked and rolled to the side — just as three shots rang out, bullets slamming into the closing door. She spun around the side of the door, then sprinted to the next bit of cover — a rooftop air conditioning unit ten feet away.

Four shots tracked her, none hitting. Sniper rifles not the best at short range, she thought giddily as she tucked her body around the rooftop unit. But how did they know I was coming?

Starting to think they were psychics — and better ones — she turned and sighted through the revolver's scope, seeing two men aiming their rifles from above similar cover. Two quick shots, precise, deadly, and they went down.

Three to go. Two snipers, one cowboy. She hoped they'd had a couple beers each at least. Typical Americans, their idea of hunting was to get smashed, climb a tree and take potshots at helpless deer.

Well, this fawn was going to teach them a thing or two. She scanned the roof. Two more air conditioning units were out there, one in the middle, the other near the right edge. She closed her eyes and willed herself to see.

A flash, and it was as if she were in flight, a hovering falcon over the opposite side of the building, looking down on the rooftop, seeing the two snipers crouched behind the middle unit. The cowboy…

Behind her!

She turned — and there he was, creeping toward her, only four feet away, that wickedly sharp KA-BAR knife in his hand, murderous lust in his eyes. Hoping for a close and memorable kill. His eyes went wide when she saw him and his jaw dropped.

"Oh sh-" he started to say, then she shot him through the heart. He spun and fell, the knife skidding away. Sliding sideways, she aimed as one more raised his head, hoping to take advantage of her distraction. They both fired at the same time.

He went down, she didn't.

Confident now, she strode ahead, making for the cover, where she saw the tip of a sniper rifle, trembling. Then it was thrown out and the last hunter emerged, arms up.

"Don't shoot!"

She aimed at him as he backed up toward the edge.

"Please, I-"

"You what? Don't like being on the other side of the gun?"

"I just… just signed up for this last night. At the casino, some guy — he promised us the hunt of a lifetime."

"And how many of you are there on this hunt of a lifetime?"

The man shook his head. "Not sure. Five of us here, a lot more in other parts of the city. But we-"

"Paid more, didn't you? Expected to win it all after just a little target practice."

The man was sweating profusely and looking dreadfully pale. "Listen. This is cool. We're good. You're safe. Go, I won't tell anyone-"

Nina shot him in the leg. "No, you won't." Over his howls, she lined up another shot. "Now tell me — how did you know where I was? After I changed outfits, I was completely concealed. How did you-?"

A noise, subtle at first. A rumbling that she'd been hearing for almost a minute, getting louder. And then, suddenly, it appeared — rising over the edge of the roof, ascending with a gale of dust and heat blowing into her.

A helicopter!

The cabin door was open, a man in a black suit and goggles hanging out. With an assault rifle.

Oh no they don't-

He fired — and she flinched. But the shots were meant for the other hunter, lining his chest with bullets.

For a brief shining moment she hoped Waxman had seen her in trouble and had sent help. But then the shooter aimed at Nina.

She hefted the .38. One shot left. I can take him-

But the man had retreated back into the cabin. And as the helicopter drifted away, Nina lowered her gun. Yeah. Not sporting enough. They were clearing the board, giving her a chance to keep running. And keeping the hunter from talking? Maybe they had a listening device on him?

Nina tossed the .38 and picked up the hunter's sniper rifle. Calmly she approached the edge and took aim. The helicopter wavered, then turned around so she couldn't get a clear shot at the pilot or the shooter. She could blast the fuselage or try to puncture the blades, but she didn't want a crowd of people dying below when this thing fell from the sky. She'd killed before, sometimes innocents. But always for a purpose. And only when there was no other way.

But the chopper waited, just hovering, letting her know she wouldn't be able to just sit tight. She looked down — way down — and saw two black limos pulling up in front of the building. Doors opened, and a crowd of men in what looked like police uniforms burst out.

Fine. I'll keep playing. She thought about the rifle, then let it drop by her feet. She'd never get out of the building with it now and they were coming. Impossible to use it effectively up here on the roof when they arrived. And especially not while there was that helicopter to worry about.

Cursing, she turned and headed for the door.