Then he heard the ping-ping-ping of bullets hitting concrete. “That tower right across from us, Rich. There’s second a sniper up there, on one of the Wall Centre towers. One more step out there and he would have nailed you.” “Jesus, Zak, thanks. You’re forgiven for the horse collar.”
“How many of them are there?” Kumar looked ill with anxiety and stress.
“I don’t know, Kumar. There’s a bunch, for sure,” Richard said. “Stay beside us.”
Richard clicked the mute switch off. “There’s another sniper on top of the building on the other side of Nelson Street. One of the lower Wall Centre towers. He’s firing down at a steep angle. It’s extremely dangerous to rush outside. Get the bastard.”
Many people in the milling crowd heard the shots, panicked, and ran back toward the courthouse for shelter. “Step back, Zak,” Richard said. “You don’t know who’s in there.”
“Yes. Let’s—”
“Gun!” yelled Richard. One of the lead rushers in the oncoming mob pulled a gun when he was three feet from Zak. In an action that had become involuntary, Zak flicked the button on his left forearm that released the spring-loaded dorsal blade in his prosthesis. He lunged forward and twisted sideways at the same time. The action caught the oncoming agent by surprise, and he fired a round into the foyer’s glass roof. As his body turned, Zak caught him in the throat with the razor-sharp blade. The man died almost instantly.
Richard looked at the gun the man dropped when he fell. “Another Beretta. CIA issue.” He handed it to Zak.
“They’re being directed by someone.” Zak was breathing heavily and wiping the blood from his blade. “There is no way the guy on the roof of the Nelson Street building could have known the precise moment we were going to step outside. And this character,” he motioned to the man whose last act in life was to foolishly take Zak on at close quarters, “this character knew we were here. Somewhere, in one of these buildings, someone is giving orders. We’re going back inside.”
They looked at half a dozen white-faced sheriffs. Both Richard and Zak now had guns, but they had all seen the move Zak had made, and the speed and ferocity of his attack.
“Okay, gentlemen, it’s obvious we need a new protocol,” Richard announced. “There are, I don’t know, how many people out there who want us dead? We’re coming back inside, we’re heading up to find shelter in another courtroom, and we’ll have no argument from you, got it?”
There was some general nodding and no resistance. As they walked back up the stairs, Richard asked to be put directly through to the police commander. The security center again complied, and Richard found himself talking to the captain in charge.
“Weismann here.”
“This is Richard Lawrence. I am inside the building, at the western edge of the foyer. Zak Goldberg is with me. We are both American agents, here to protect a witness in the Lestage trial.” “Yes. Go on,” Weismann said.
“You are facing a rogue CIA operation. Factions in the American government want this witness dead. You are dealing with five or six ground agents, one of whom you have captured, and another who is dead. There are probably three or four others still out there. Each will be armed with a Beretta 92FS with hollow points, and probably suppressors. You have at least two snipers, one at the top of the Wall Centre, and another at the top of the Four Seasons. They are being directed from a place where their commander has a clear view of what’s going on. All parties involved will be highly experienced, and very dangerous.”
“Ten-four, Lawrence. We have the sniper at the Wall Centre. We have cornered and almost captured the sniper at Four Seasons. We have found a third sniper, on the roof of the Hotel Georgia Tower. He doesn’t know we’ve spotted him, and he has a gun aimed directly at the courthouse.”
“Which is the Georgia Tower?”
“It’s a tall building, about fifty floors, on Howe Street. That’s the first tall building to the northeast. It’s across the street from the Four Seasons.”
“I see it.”
“Lawrence, if you can see the top of that tower he can see—” He was interrupted by a volley of pings as several bullets and glass fragments landed within twenty feet of them.
“Everybody back in here,” Richard yelled, pointing to a small witness interview room. “The glass is thick enough to deflect the bullets, but he’ll figure that out pretty quick.” Richard and Zak pushed and dragged Kumar into the small room just as another volley of bullets landed within ten feet of them.
“Are you guys all right?” asked Captain Weismann.
“Yeah,” Richard replied. “We’re in a witness room. We should be okay. Nail that guy.”
“We’ve got reinforcements coming,” Captain Weismann said. “We’ve just arrested a third guy with a Beretta 92FS. I think we’re bringing it under control.”
“Yeah, we’ve been thinking that for several weeks now,” Richard responded. “It never seems to happen.”
“Stay where you are. We’ll triple the security around the courthouse once this is under control.”
“Get lots of film of the crowd down there. We may be able to identify who the rogue agents are,” added Richard.
“Don’t worry, Lawrence. This is Vancouver. We have a riot here every few years. You know, hockey riots, soccer riots, that sort of thing. We know how to set this up. Over and out.”
56
Judge Shawn Mordecai didn’t bother waiting for his clerk or the “all clear” and instead trudged down the hallways and stairs of the courthouse until he reached the richly carpeted expanse of the sixth floor, south, where his chambers cocoon was located. He entered his office, closing the door. He had a timer on his phone and set it for twenty minutes. He sat
