Page 137 of Code 6

Kate stole a quick glance of the neighborhood. “Honestly, whatever they asked for.”

“Perfect,” said Diego, dialing. “Your old man’s about to make a very generous donation to Colombian law enforcement.”

“No,” said Kate.

“What do you mean, no?”

“Patrick is like a brother to me. If your little brother was in that warehouse, would you drive around the block and wait for the police, who may or may not come?”

Diego lowered his phone. “No. I wouldn’t.”

“Then don’t ask me to.”

Their eyes met in the darkness. “All right,” he said. “We’re going in. Check your weapon.”

Kate opened her purse and removed the pistol Diego had given her. “Loaded, safety on,” she said.

“Keep the gun pointed at the ground, and stay at least ten steps behind me at all times. Stop when I stop. Move from a position of cover only when I wave you forward. When we get to the alley, remove the safety.”

Removing the safety had never been a big deal in target practice. Outside a dark warehouse in the heart of Siloé, however, her heart pounded at the mere thought of an active lethal weapon in her hand.

“Ready?” he asked.

Kate swallowed hard. “Ready.”

The car doors opened, and they stepped into the night.

Patrick pointed his pistol straight at the side door to the alley. He was on his knees, with his arms fully extended and the butt of the handgun resting on the hood of the car to steady his shot. He knew he had just a few seconds to act. The pole to which he’d been chained would be in Liu’s plain view, and Patrick’s escape would be immediately obvious. His plan was to take the first open shot as soon as Liu walked through the door.

A clanking noise came from the other side of the door, which sounded like the padlock coming off. Patrick took aim. He had enough experience with guns to know that he was a better shot using the dominant-eye method. The pistol had standard iron sights, front and rear, which he’d been taught to think of as a teed-up football in the front and the goal post in the rear. The goal was to get the football squarely through the goal posts. He closed his left eye and, using only his right eye, aligned the sights, making sure the front sight was directly in the center of the rear sight notch. His target was an imaginary bull’s-eye, chest high in the dead center of the door. He focused on the rear sight, leaving his target slightly blurry, which he knew was right. His finger covered the trigger, and Patrick took a deep breath. The door opened. Patrick applied a small amount of pressure to the trigger but held his fire.

Olga was squarely in his sights.

Liu was behind her. Patrick had no shot. His heart was pounding. Precious seconds were being lost. A more skilled marksman might have taken a shot, but as much as Patrick had loved the movieAmerican Sniper,he was no Chris Kyle.

Two steps into the warehouse, Liu stopped and suddenly pulled Olga back against his body like a human shield, pressing his pistol against the base of her skull. He’d obviously spotted the loose chains around the poll. He knew Patrick had freed himself.

“Dumb move, Patrick!” he shouted.

Patrick wanted to squeeze the trigger but had no opening. Liu backed his way out, through the doorway, pulling Olga with him into the alley.

Patrick didn’t hesitate. He jumped to his feet, ran to the door, and stopped, planting his back to the doorframe. Running blindly and with abandon into the alley was a good way to get shot, but if he lost sight of Liu he’d forever lose Olga. He pivoted, using the doorframe to protect his body, and peered down the dark alley.

A shot pierced the darkness, and Patrick hit the ground.

Chapter 64

Kate was at the entrance to the alley, ten feet behind Diego, when the shot rang out.

“Down!” he said, in a hushed but urgent voice.

Kate hurried to the brick wall and hid behind a tall stack of freight pallets. The warehouses were much deeper than wide, nearly the length of a football field from front to back. The alley was barely wide enough for two vehicles, and as far as Kate could tell, the only way out was the way they had come in. There was no streetlamp, or at least not a working one, and the moonlight did little more than create confusing shadows in what seemed like an endless black tunnel. But as Kate’s eyes adjusted, she could make out Diego’s silhouette ahead of her. He was hiding behind a Dumpster, pistol at the ready. He signaled for her to be quiet, which made her even more aware of how heavily she was breathing.

Kate calmed her nerves and listened. It had sounded as though the gunshot had come from the alley, outside the warehouse, but it wasn’t easy to pinpoint a single gunshot. Diego signaled her forward with a wave of his hand. His hiding spot behind the Dumpster was better than hers, and she eagerly came to join him, moving as quickly and keeping as low as possible.

“I want you to stay right here,” he whispered.

Kate nodded in agreement.