Chapter 23

Shane Bronte typed in the pass code in the security lock and opened the door to his office and insured that the air conditioner was working full blast. His office was attached to a huge Black Ridge Inc. warehouse. He was an equipment manager for Black Ridge, and his office was in what remained of Black Ridge’s Homestead Florida training site. Since most of their contracted activities were in the middle east and sub-Saharan Africa, training in a drier, hotter area was deemed more appropriate, but there was still a lot of work here in Florida. Mostly logistical.

In the back of a pickup truck parked seventy-five yards away, a brunette woman in a sharp business suit watched Shane open his office through a high-powered monocular scope. “Zero, two, five, eight. That’s a code? It’s the middle row of numbers. This guy’s a walking security risk,” said Natalia.

The sniper laying in the pickup’s bed next to her said, “I got that clock on the wall perfectly, and I can take out the water cooler. Let’s start with the clock, then the water cooler, then his left arm.”

“What if the windows are bullet proof?”

“There’s no such thing as a bullet proof window in an office in a secured area,” said Steve.

“This isn’t a secured area ... not anymore...” then Natalia realized what Steve was saying. When Black Ridge pulled out, they probably didn’t upgrade security in the buildings they left behind.

“What’s your distress code?” Steve asked, getting her mind on the mission.

“Pon-pon, pon-pon, pon-pon. That’s a stupid code.”

“It’s the international maritime code for a vessel requesting help.”

“Pon six times?”

“Pon-pon three times,” said Steve. “Don’t worry about it, the bullet will be in the air before you get the third ‘Pon’ out.” He resighted when she got out of the truck. “No heroics and don’t kill him. If he needs to die, leave that up to me.”

“Why you?” asked Natalia as she leaned back into the truck for a kiss.

“Killing stains your soul. It really does, I want our babies growing up in a mommy that’s not carrying that guilt.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“Go, we finish this then start on the babies.”

Natalia stepped out of the brush where the truck was parked and walked across the open lot that was once filled with cars. Now, there’s maybe a half dozen cars and they’re over by the warehouse entrance. She walked up to the secured door near the office Steve was aiming at. As she walked over, she tapped her smart watch, which made a phone call to Steve; the watch was connected to a single small earbud in her left ear that was covered with her thick black hair.

“City Morgue, you stab them, we slab them,” said Steve, answering her call. “You look great honey.”

“You’re looking at my ass in your scope, aren’t you.”

“Yes I am.”

“I love you too, now let’s focus.”

“Aye-aye ma’am.” And he adjusted his aim back on the clock. He tried to calculate the deflection his round would get as it passed through a window at an angle.

Natalia took a deep breath and pressed the keys in the same order that she saw Shane Bronte type into the key box: zero, two, five, eight. All the center keys on the keypad, bottom to top. She heard a buzz and a click, and the door unlocked. She grabbed the knob in her latex glove covered hand and pulled the door opened. She stepped into the hallway and saw RFID detectors on each door. Steve was right. She’s got to steal his badge and swipe the detectors to get into that office.