“It’s all clear,” the man whispered in a barely audible voice.
Dragan twisted his head at a nearly impossible angle to press his left eye against the hole drilled into the back of the cart. He wasn’t taking any chances with Kevin. People did crazy things under pressure. Across the hallway, the couch and chairs visible from his point of view remained empty. He could still make this work.
“Hold the cart,” said Dragan.
When Kevin’s hand firmly grasped the horizontal handle along the rim, Dragan slowly and carefully inched his way out of the cramped hold and onto the carpeted floor. He sat there for a few seconds, listening intently. He then reached into the cart, quietly removing a duffel bag.
“Get inside the bathtub and lay down. Shut the shower curtain,” whispered Dragan.
The man complied, disappearing into the bathroom. When Dragan heard the shower curtain ruffle and the plastic tub creak under Kevin’s weight, he unzipped the bag and withdrew a suppressed pistol. He pushed the bag onto the bathroom tile and crawled into the softly lit space, standing up once he was completely inside. Equipped for handicap use, the bathroom was spacious, allowing him to shut the door without getting too close to the bathtub. He needed the door shut. The sound of a suppressed pistol, no matter how quiet, would be immediately recognizable to a trained operative.
“You okay in there?” he asked quietly.
“I think so,” said the man. “Hey, there’s a solid stainless steel handle in here. It might be easier just to tie me up in here.”
Dragan opened the shower curtain a quarter of the way with his left hand, keeping the pistol concealed behind his right thigh. The handle would have indeed served his purposes well if the plan hadn’t changed so drastically. He raised the pistol and aimed it at the man’s forehead, pressing the trigger before the guy could react. A single hole appeared above the eyebrows and his body went slack. The subsonic 9mm hollow-point projectile had obviously done its job. There was no need to fire a second bullet. He closed the curtain and knelt next to the tub, removing a black wig and a pair of thick-rimmed, nonprescription glasses from the bag.
After a few seconds of adjustment in the mirror, he closely enough resembled the man lying dead in the bathtub. The disguise wasn’t perfect by a long shot, but at the distance between here and the lobby, he should be able to go about his business without drawing any scrutiny.
Dragan opened the bathroom door and placed his duffel bag on top of the dirty towels, shoving it far enough down to remain undetected. He reached inside the bag and removed a Taser and a gray auto-injector syringe, placing them on the tray attached to the cart handle.
He pushed the cart into the hallway, avoiding eye contact with Resja or the attendant. Halfway across, Dragan swung the cart around so he could pull it into the room instead of push it. This was where it got a bit tricky. He stepped through the open doorway and started to bring the cart with him.
“Hello?” said an alert female voice, followed by movement.
Dragan gripped the Taser in the cart, keeping his back toward the room. He turned his head in time to see a redhead with tightly cropped hair appear at the foot of the bed. Her right hand was hidden behind her right hip, most likely gripping a pistol. He wasn’t going to win this quick-draw match.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “There’s rarely anyone here at this hour. I should have checked with the desk. I even saw someone sitting in the lobby. I’m so stupid. Sorry to have interrupted you.”
The woman’s tense posture eased, but her hand didn’t come away from the concealed weapon.
“Can I help you?” she said sternly.
“I’m just collecting dirty towels. I can come back later,” Dragan said in a wimpy, deferential voice.
“It’s fine. He comes in every night,” said a weak voice from somewhere deeper in the room. “He’s a nice fellow.”
Her arm shifted forward, just slightly. Still not enough for him to take a chance with the Taser. He’d been warned about her.
“It’ll only take a few seconds, but I don’t mind coming back,” he said. “I’m on shift all night.”
She put her hands on her hips, which sealed her fate.
“That’s fine. Just do it qui—”
Dragan turned his body, simultaneously extending the hand gripping the Taser. The woman reacted swiftly, her hand slipping behind her hip, but fifty thousand volts of electricity prevented her from taking any further action. She dropped to her knees, momentarily fighting the Taser’s effects before tipping over onto the floor, her back arched and limbs locked into place.
Keeping the Taser in his right hand, he grabbed the auto-injector syringe and approached her twitching body. A quick jab to one of her legs delivered the sedative. All he had to do at this point was wait several seconds for the strong dose to take full effect. This left him just enough time to take care of the old woman. He glanced in Vesna Erak’s direction, catching her horrified look. She raised her head off the pillow, trying to form words. Nothing escaped her lips beyond a continuous, low-volume gasp.
He stepped past Nicole Erak, placed a hand over Vesna’s mouth, and stabbed her twice in the Adam’s apple with the business end of the auto-injector. It was messy work, better suited for a knife, but it did the job. Her head immediately lowered to the pillow, a weak gurgling sound sputtering from her lips.
Turning his attention back to the target, Dragan disengaged the Taser. When Erak’s body relaxed, he kicked her sharply in the side of the rib cage, eliciting no reaction. She was out cold. Less than ten seconds later, he pushed the fully loaded cart into the hallway.
Chapter 24
Daniel kept a close watch on the man that pushed the cart into the center of the hallway. The guy had taken a little longer in room 451 than the one across the hall, but he’d heard Jessica’s voice, so he assumed his wife had briefly interrogated him. The man turned briefly to give the attendant a wave.
“I’m full. Be right back,” he said, pushing the cart to the end of the hallway.
The man pressed the elevator button and moved behind the cart, immediately pushing it into the elevator carriage. Daniel squinted almost imperceptibly, feeling that something was off. He hadn’t heard a chime, and the guy hadn’t paused for a moment before maneuvering into the elevator, almost like the door had already been open. But why would he press the button? Shit. He’d only do that to try to maintain some semblance of normal procedure — to keep Daniel from instantly reacting.
He burst out of his seat, holding Jessica’s purse, and sprinted toward the end of the hallway. By the time he reached the elevator, the brushed steel doors had been closed for a number of seconds, the hum and whir of the elevator machinery audible through the thick barrier. Responding out of desperate instinct, he tried to pry the doors open with his hand, just as quickly abandoning the futile attempt. An insistent voice from the opposite end of the hallway momentarily distracted him. The attendant had finally gotten off his ass and was heading in his direction — and he didn’t look happy. Fuck. He didn’t need any complications right now. Processing the information on hand, he made a few decisions and headed swiftly toward the attendant.
“Dave, I think they took my wife in the laundry cart!”
The man shook his head, continuing to approach. “Dude, nobody kidnapped your wife.”
“Check the room,” said Daniel. “Just do that for me.”
The guy broke into a lazy jog, clearly wanting to get to the room before Daniel. “I’ll check the room, but I need you to stand clear,” said the man, pointing a finger at him. “Then I need you out of here. Back in the main lobby. Security will walk you down.”