nerves.
‘He’s at the door.’
The seconds stretched out, yet Fayed gave no sign of opening up.
Drake caught Mason’s eye, the simple look conveying everything he needed to say. What was Fayed waiting for?
‘Target’s on the move, heading back to the living room,’ Frost reported.
Drake glanced up at the door, taking note of the spy hole mounted in the centre. Likely Fayed had glanced out into the corridor, seen nobody and assumed it had simply been a prank.
Fortunately the solution to this kind of stubbornness was simple
.
If at first you don
’
t succeed
, Drake thought, knocking again.
‘Target’s on the move again,’ Frost advised. ‘Watch yourself, One. He could be armed.’
Drake almost smiled. In situations like this, the power of frustration is never to be underestimated. It usually doesn’t take much to annoy most people into dropping their guard, even if they’re not aware of it.
‘Almost at the door.’
Their limited intel on Fayed suggested he had travelled alone, and had neither a wife nor a girlfriend, but there was no telling who might be here. For all they knew, the nominees for lovers of the year that they’d heard from the stairwell earlier could have been Fayed and a local lady of the night.
Drake tensed and flexed his fingers as he heard the click of a lock being undone. A moment later, the door moved inward a couple of inches before stopping on its security chain. In the gap, Drake saw a fleshy, unshaven face staring out into the hallway.
It happened fast, just as they had rehearsed. Kicking his foot out, Drake shoved the brick into the gap between the door and the frame, preventing it from closing, while at the same moment, Mason tilted the taser upward and fired.
That was when things stopped going to plan.
There was a pop as the pair of spring-loaded prongs mounted at the front of the weapon were propelled forward, followed a moment later by a loud, almost mechanical clicking sound as the weapon delivered its incapacitating charge.
But instead of embedding themselves in the muscle of Fayed’s thigh, the conducting prongs sailed right past to strike the wall beyond. Fayed had ducked back out of the way, causing Mason’s shot to miss him by mere inches.
How had he known? Was he ready for them?
There was a crunch of splintering wood as Fayed shoved the door from the other side, trying to close it on them only to find the gap blocked by the solid concrete brick. No way was he getting it closed as long as that brick was wedged against the frame.
In any case, Drake wasn’t about to let him try again. He was moving even before Fayed tried to lock them out, jumping to his feet and gripping the security chain in the blades of the bolt cutters. A single, powerful yank was all it took to snap the chain.
Realizing the door was compromised and that he couldn’t hope to hold it closed against two men, Fayed abandoned his efforts and sprinted away even as Drake shouldered his way into the apartment, dropping the bolt cutters and reaching for his concealed sidearm.
‘Two, on me,’ he called out.
The prospect of a calm, orderly takedown was rapidly fading into the distance. He was firmly in damage-control mode now, trying to regain control of the situation before it turned into a complete fuck-up.
Advancing into the narrow main hallway with the weapon up and ready, he found himself facing out into the apartment's cramped living room. Sure enough, he caught the flickering glow of a computer screen - probably a laptop - off to his left.
He was also just in time to see Fayed launch himself at the living-room window, throwing up his arms to protect himself. There was an audible bang, followed by the tinkle of shattered glass as the window gave way beneath the impact, and suddenly Fayed had disappeared into the darkness beyond.
‘Shit!’ Drake hissed, sprinting forward to witness what he expected to be Fayed’s broken body lying on the street thirty feet below. Had the man just
‘He’s at the door.’
The seconds stretched out, yet Fayed gave no sign of opening up.
Drake caught Mason’s eye, the simple look conveying everything he needed to say. What was Fayed waiting for?
‘Target’s on the move, heading back to the living room,’ Frost reported.
Drake glanced up at the door, taking note of the spy hole mounted in the centre. Likely Fayed had glanced out into the corridor, seen nobody and assumed it had simply been a prank.
Fortunately the solution to this kind of stubbornness was simple
.
If at first you don
’
t succeed
, Drake thought, knocking again.
‘Target’s on the move again,’ Frost advised. ‘Watch yourself, One. He could be armed.’
Drake almost smiled. In situations like this, the power of frustration is never to be underestimated. It usually doesn’t take much to annoy most people into dropping their guard, even if they’re not aware of it.
‘Almost at the door.’
Their limited intel on Fayed suggested he had travelled alone, and had neither a wife nor a girlfriend, but there was no telling who might be here. For all they knew, the nominees for lovers of the year that they’d heard from the stairwell earlier could have been Fayed and a local lady of the night.
Drake tensed and flexed his fingers as he heard the click of a lock being undone. A moment later, the door moved inward a couple of inches before stopping on its security chain. In the gap, Drake saw a fleshy, unshaven face staring out into the hallway.
It happened fast, just as they had rehearsed. Kicking his foot out, Drake shoved the brick into the gap between the door and the frame, preventing it from closing, while at the same moment, Mason tilted the taser upward and fired.
That was when things stopped going to plan.
There was a pop as the pair of spring-loaded prongs mounted at the front of the weapon were propelled forward, followed a moment later by a loud, almost mechanical clicking sound as the weapon delivered its incapacitating charge.
But instead of embedding themselves in the muscle of Fayed’s thigh, the conducting prongs sailed right past to strike the wall beyond. Fayed had ducked back out of the way, causing Mason’s shot to miss him by mere inches.
How had he known? Was he ready for them?
There was a crunch of splintering wood as Fayed shoved the door from the other side, trying to close it on them only to find the gap blocked by the solid concrete brick. No way was he getting it closed as long as that brick was wedged against the frame.
In any case, Drake wasn’t about to let him try again. He was moving even before Fayed tried to lock them out, jumping to his feet and gripping the security chain in the blades of the bolt cutters. A single, powerful yank was all it took to snap the chain.
Realizing the door was compromised and that he couldn’t hope to hold it closed against two men, Fayed abandoned his efforts and sprinted away even as Drake shouldered his way into the apartment, dropping the bolt cutters and reaching for his concealed sidearm.
‘Two, on me,’ he called out.
The prospect of a calm, orderly takedown was rapidly fading into the distance. He was firmly in damage-control mode now, trying to regain control of the situation before it turned into a complete fuck-up.
Advancing into the narrow main hallway with the weapon up and ready, he found himself facing out into the apartment's cramped living room. Sure enough, he caught the flickering glow of a computer screen - probably a laptop - off to his left.
He was also just in time to see Fayed launch himself at the living-room window, throwing up his arms to protect himself. There was an audible bang, followed by the tinkle of shattered glass as the window gave way beneath the impact, and suddenly Fayed had disappeared into the darkness beyond.
‘Shit!’ Drake hissed, sprinting forward to witness what he expected to be Fayed’s broken body lying on the street thirty feet below. Had the man just
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