The chime of the door drew Grace away from her memories. As she rose from the chair, she checked the time and noted that Mason could not yet have arrived. Nor would he be likely to ring the doorbell. As she crossed the suite to the front door, she activated the viewscreen on her smart contact. The image appeared across her vision, but the angle of the camera was too sharp to see who had rang the doorbell. She could make out that it appeared to be a man. He wore a black coat, black slacks, and had what appeared to be government issue shiny black shoes, but she could not see his face. As she approached, she saw him reach out again to push the doorbell. Definitely a man, she observed. A white man.
“Who is it?” She called out, as she suppressed the concern that she felt from her voice. Alone in the suite for most of the time they had been there, this was the first time that she had had to answer the door. It was also the first time she had accessed the door camera, and the fact that she could not clearly see who was outside disturbed her greatly. Now she felt extremely alone. She had no agent assigned to her protection now, not until Mason arrived at least. That may be too late, she thought as she reached the door. “Who is it?” She asked again. A muffled answer came from the other side of the door. Whoever was out there was less than two feet away from her right now, with only the door itself between them. Suddenly she felt naked and afraid, and began to back away from the door. Again there was a muffled answer from the other side of the door, but she could make out no words.
She backed across the room to the closet near the entrance. Inside, she activated the wall safe. Placing her thumb on the small grey square, the safe clicked, and the door swung open. She reached inside and pulled out her Smith & Wesson 380 semi-auto. With a smooth practiced motion she had done hundreds of times, she jacked a round into the chamber, and thumbed the safety lever to the off position. She turned back to the door as again she heard a muffled male voice.
“Speak up!” She yelled as she crossed the room back to the door. Once more an unintelligible muffled response came from the hallway outside. “Great.” She said, under her breath. She laid her hand against the door, touching the smooth finish. Then she wrapped her knuckles against it. “Steel.” she said to herself, as she realized the door was most likely reinforced against explosives. “No wonder I can’t hear him.” Now what, she thought. After a moments hesitation she had decided on a plan of action. “Step closer to the door!” She yelled. And as she watched, the man followed her instructions, and his face came into view. A face she did not recognize. She watched as he said something, but even being able to see his lips move, she was still unable to make out what he was saying.
Suddenly he reached into his coat, and reflexively she stepped back and raised her weapon. Reinforced or not, that door was only two inches thick, she thought. His hand came out of his coat holding a small device, which he raised towards the camera. He keyed the device, and his credentials appeared just in front of the small black rectangle. She read the name just under the picture. Connor Sloan, Secret Service.
“You’re Secret Service?” She yelled. He nodded in response. “You can hear me?” Again he nodded, and then said something. She could not really hear what he said, so much as putting the muffled sounds together with his lip movements. Crystal clear, he had said. Could this be her new agent, she thought. But where was Mason? He had promised to introduce the new agent personally. Maybe it was. Maybe this guy was her new agent, and she was just being paranoid. Not every one was out to kill her, she thought. Maybe she should just open the door, and let him in. He had credentials. He looked like a Secret Service agent. Or maybe he had a bomb strapped to his chest and was just waiting for her to crack the door a half an inch. She thought for a moment, and then yelled out again. “Where’s Mason?” Evidently realizing that she could see him but not hear him, he raised his hands palms up, and shrugged his shoulders. The universal body language response for “I don’t know.” She considered her options.
“Put your hands up!” She yelled. His expression changed to one of confusion. “Hands up!” She said again. He nodded and raised him hands in compliance. “Step away from the door!” After a moment of hesitation, he took a step back. She could no longer see his face now. “Further!” She yelled, and again stepped back. Now she could only see his shoes. “Don’t move!” She yelled, and cautiously placed her thumb on the unlock pad of the door. A click echoed inside the door. She watched as the man remained still in the hallway. She grabbed the door knob with her left hand, and slowly turned it. She breathed in a deep breath, as she prepared herself for the next step. In one swift motion, she yanked the door open, and brought up her weapon.
The man began to lunge to the left, and then feinted to the right just as she pulled the trigger. The gunshot was deafening in the confines of the hallway, as a bullet hole appeared in the wall behind where the man had been standing. She pulled the trigger a second time, before the brass casing of the last shot had hit the ground, but the man was quicker, and swiftly moved back to the left, as his hand came down on the barrel of her gun. Even as she felt the gun flip out of her hand, she struck him in the throat with a left jab. His eyes went wide, as he brought his hand up to his injured throat. He reached for her with his other hand, but she knocked it away, spun around and delivered a round house kick to his chest. He flew out of the doorway, and slammed against the wall of the hallway. Phased but not down, he went into a crouch and launched himself at her. She spun again as he flew through the doorway, and she kicked him in the side as he went down. He landed hard, but rolled with his momentum and came up quickly. Just as her hand closed around the grip of her fallen gun, she felt his arms wrap around her from behind. She fired her weapon, the bullet uselessly punching into the floor. His massive arms surrounded her, pinning her arms down in front of her, and though she struggled with all of her might, she was trapped.
She elbowed him in the side, and heard him exhale through the pain. She elbowed him again, and he gripped her tighter. Her legs dangled above the floor. Suddenly she kicked backwards an upwards, landing a solid blow to his crotch. He bent forward in agony, but did not relax his grip. But he had bent forward enough that she had firm footing. She bent forward, pivoted his weight onto her back, and the momentum continued, which caused him to flip over her. His grip came loose, and he landed flat on his back. He lay there, dazed and out of breath. After a moment, he looked up at her. She had her gun aimed at his head.
Chapter 6