Girl Under Fire (A Sam Hemming FBI Thriller Prequel) by Julia Payne (top ten ebook reader .TXT) 📕

"Yeah. I go where the boss goes," he replies with a bit of pride in his position.

"How did you get to be so lucky?" Bucktooth asks.

"A lot of bodies," he answered simply. Nyke needed someone who would have his back and kill efficiently, and so he chose me.

"What time are you guys leaving?" The Hispanic asked.

"Flight leaves Teterboro at 1 am. We will leave here at midnight," the Greek answered.

I look at my watch, it's a little past eleven. I have less than an hour, and I realize that the timing is perfect, even if it's a little tight. I just need to get Nyke alone.

But there is just one problem. If they can't find my body on the street, they will have to suspect that I am either in the building or making my way back to safe ground. Then it hits me. I know how to get everyone off my heels.

Chapter 5

In the Wind

I pull out the Groveling Greek's phone and extract his thumb from my ankle pouch. Placing it on the screen the phone comes alive and I get to the app store. I download the TOR app and get connected. The Voice-over-IP call would not be traceable, even by the FBI.

I call the Bureau's emergency line. "Agent Samantha Hemming, badge number six-five-eleven-eleven-nine. Emergency. SWAT team down. Only one left standing," I whisper through the phone.

"Standby for voiceprint, Agent Hemming," the person on the other end said. It didn't take long before she came back. "Voiceprint confirmed, Agent Hemming. Patching you to Director Steward.

"Director Steward?" I say, surprised to myself. I am getting patched directly to the Director of the FBI – at almost midnight on Christmas Eve?

"Agent Hemming. I am glad you are alright. Where are you?" Director Steward says.

"Director, they are all dead, sir. My entire team. I managed to get out by the skin of my teeth."

"Where are you. I am chasing up a lead, sir. I am on my way to Teterboro. I should be there in about three minutes. Nyke is supposed to leave on his private jet at 1 am."

"Where is he now?" Director Steward asks.

"I believe he is still at the Bleecker Street location or has just left."

"Special Agent Harold Brass will lead the team into Teterboro."

"Harold, sir?"

"Yes, he is right here, in front of me."

"Harold Brass is alive?"

"Yes, Agent. It's only by God's graces that the two of you seemed to have made it out alive."

But that's not possible, I tell myself. If he were alive, Harold would have answered me when the shooting started. I was sure they had shot him. The confusion began to reign down on my mind and shake my hold on reality.

"Here, you talk to him; the two of you need to coordinate this," Director Steward said, passing the phone to Harold.

"Sam?" He said, seeming surprised, but not as he came on.

"Harold, I am glad you are alright," I said, masking my confusion.

"How did you get out of the ambush?" He asked as I began to wonder more and more about his sincerity.

"I got out a block earlier than I was supposed to," I answered. It was the only way that I could have escaped the ambush. If I told him that I had made it all the way to the building, they might deduce that I was still in the building, and since I could not trust anyone, I could not offer up the truth for the moment. At least not until Nyke was in custody, and I knew what was what.

I disconnect the line without engaging in usual pleasantries. It would have seemed as though the line got cut off. I didn't mean to be on the phone for more than three minutes in case they could back-trace the call across the TOR circuits. I went back around the steps and climbed up to the upper basement. The three men that stood at the top of the stairs on the ground floor had now moved away. I had a clear shot to the ground floor. I decided to take it. This would be the true test.

To my surprise, the coast is clear. I made it to the ground floor and found a clear path to the steps that led to the first floor. From here onward, the building is decorated in plush style. Classic interior design is mingled with antique furniture. The hardness of the stucco walls balanced with the velvet drapes’ softness; the darkness of the timber floors underfoot was balanced by the illumination of the soft chandelier hat hung from fresco ceilings. For a gangster, Nyke and his cohort did have style, I had to admit. But I soon reminded myself that all that extravagance was paid for by blood.

Again no one interrupted my assent to the second floor. Across the second floor had walls adorned with life-sized paintings from the masters and busts of Roman emperors. I could see the reason why the staircase was deserted and easy for me to utilize. No one used the stairs since there were a pair of elevators on the north side of the building. The stairs, I figured, were for the help to serve the bosses upstairs.

I wasn't ready to get to the second floor as my instincts told me that I needed to stop here for a minute. A look up the flight of stairs revealed the reason. Closed-circuit cameras located at the top of the stairs would have alerted the goons that I was in the building. If there were CCTVs there, then there was a control room it was all tied to. Since there weren't on the floors below, I was confident they were here on this floor.

"Alright, Sam," I said, you don't have much time."

Moving with my