Dark Eyes Part 20

"It's you?" Wally was in a daze, her heart and mind reeling as she tried to come to grips with this new version of reality.

Johanna was still confounded by Wally's appearance there. As her mind processed the situation, the woman suddenly looked very much alarmed, in much the same way that Dr. Rainer had when Wally appeared at her office.

"Wally, you should not be-"

Johanna's words were interrupted by the sound of racing engines and the strobe of flashing blue lights just outside the hut. Tires screeched as at least two vehicles came to a stop. Within seconds, there came the sound of rushing footsteps and a loud knock on the metal door of the hut, the sharp sound echoing almost painfully against the inside walls.

"Federal agents!" boomed a voice from outside. "Open the door!"

Wally stepped toward the window to look outside, but Johanna grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back.

"No," Johanna said. "This could be anyone. Stay back."

Both Wally and Tevin moved back, farther away from the front door of the hut.

"Federal agents!" the call came again, with another round of loud knocks. "Open the G.o.dd.a.m.n door or we'll tear it down!"

Johanna stepped to the tall wooden wardrobe at the far end of the hut. She lowered her shoulder and pushed into the large, heavy piece of furniture, shoving with all her strength. Her force moved the wardrobe away from the wall until there was enough separation to reveal a semiautomatic shotgun with a pistol grip and .45 automatic handgun mounted to the back panel of the wardrobe. Wally and Tevin stood by, stunned by Johanna's swift action as she retrieved both weapons, sticking the handgun under her belt at the small of her back as she moved to the front door. With her right hand Johanna raised the shotgun, and with her left she unlocked the door and slowly pulled it open.

Standing outside the door was a white man in his mid-forties, dressed in civilian clothes but with a nylon-sh.e.l.l jacket that had ATF printed across its chest in bold yellow letters. He held a handgun trained squarely at Johanna's chest. His eyes fixed immediately on her shotgun, which was raised and pointed directly at him.

"Stay cool," the man said evenly, his words obviously meant for Johanna but also for the other agents behind him. He never took his eyes off Johanna and her shotgun. "You're gonna want to put that down. We're ATF. We're here to help you."

Johanna looked behind the agent and saw two more of them-a short but st.u.r.dily built black woman and another white guy, tall and fit. Both were armed, their handguns raised at Johanna. Two unmarked sedans were parked on the lane, one to either side of the hut, both with flashing light panels in their grills that splashed the colony with hypnotic blue.

Johanna wasn't ready yet to let her guard down.

"I want to see your ID," Johanna said.

"Yalena Mayakova?" the first agent asked Johanna as he flashed his ATF credentials.

Johanna crept forward just enough to get a clear look at the man's ID, then leaned out just a little farther and scanned the entire area outside the hut, looking beyond the two ATF cruisers. Just the three of them, as far as she could tell. Wally and Tevin exchanged looks of shock and bewilderment; layers of intrigue were unfolding before them with no time to process. Wally had finally found Yalena, but the moment of mother-and-daughter reunion-dreamed of, prayed for-had barely happened at all, and now it seemed to be morphing into something else entirely.

"What do you want?" Johanna barked at the agent.

"We need all of you to come in for questioning," the agent said. "We'll move to our field office. This is in your best interest. Your life and the lives of these two young people are in danger."

"What danger?" Johanna demanded.

"Klesko," Wally blurted. She looked directly at the agent. "This is about Klesko?"

Hearing the name shocked Johanna. She kept her eyes on the agent as she questioned Wally.

"Klesko?" Johanna said, alarm in her voice. "How do you know that name, Wally?"

"I ... I started looking for you," Wally said, confused. "Klesko is looking for you, like I was. And-"

"Everything will be explained in due time," the agent said. "Now we need to move. Lower your weapon and step out, all three of you."

Johanna remained silent, still considering her next move.

"Stay behind me," she said to Wally and Tevin.

The two of them obeyed her, following as she slowly stepped outside the hut and into the lane, her shotgun still raised in front of her as she continued to scan the area with her eyes.

"Everything is secure," the agent a.s.sured Johanna as she emerged from the hut. "Lower your weapon and set it down on the ground in front of you."

Johanna appraised the agents standing before her, all three of them with their weapons still raised in her direction, holding their positions at separate firing angles that had her and the two teens squarely in their sights. Johanna took a quick glance behind her, meeting Wally's eyes.

"We'll go with them," Johanna said.

Wally nodded in agreement. "No choice."

Johanna turned back toward the agents and lowered the muzzle of her shotgun.

"Good. Now set the weapon down," the agent said again.

Johanna carefully bent forward, her arms extending outward as she prepared to set the shotgun down on the ground. She had almost done this when the sound of racing engines came again, this time from the direction of the front gate. Johanna straightened, the shotgun still in her hands, as the three ATF agents all turned in the direction of the engine sounds.

"What the h.e.l.l-?" The black female agent began to speak but was interrupted by a squeal of tires and then a crashing sound: the colony's security gate behind torn out of its track by a charging vehicle. This all took place out of their line of vision-the group's view was blocked by the Quonset huts surrounding them-but the sound of the approaching vehicles grew louder ... closer. The female agent turned to Johanna and yelled at her.

"Drop your weapon NOW and get in the vehicles-!"

Before Johanna could respond, a cab swerved around the corner at the far end of the lane and raced toward them at full throttle.

"What the h.e.l.l?" the older agent growled.

With a clear shot at the agents and their waiting vehicles, the cab gave no sign of slowing or stopping but continued on its collision course, hurtling toward them, faster with each pa.s.sing second. The agents raised their weapons and all fired simultaneously but with no effect; even as the bullets tore into the taxi's windshield, the driver-Klesko-kept the vehicle on course. The taxi plowed head-on into the first ATF cruiser. The cruiser lurched backward and slammed into the second male agent, rolling over and crushing him beneath its weight. Within seconds, the wreckage burst into flames.

The two surviving agents-the older man who had first appeared at Johanna's door and the younger black woman-now fired on the taxi as Klesko ducked down low behind the dashboard to shield himself from the barrage.

"We're going NOW!" Johanna said to Tevin and Wally, grabbing Wally by the arm and leading them both down the lane in the opposite direction, toward the area where the gate had stood. Wally spotted a Glock 9mm handgun on the ground-it must have belonged to the fallen agent-and grabbed it as she moved.

The gun battle continued behind them as Johanna and the teens made it about halfway down the narrow lane, and they stopped only when they became aware of some loud noises ahead of them. With a terrible screeching of tires, a red-and-white-striped tow truck rounded the corner at the far end of the lane and hurtled straight toward them at high speed. The truck was too wide for the lane, and as it moved forward, it plowed aside whatever was standing in front of the huts: wooden porches, sculptures, and plants.

"s.h.i.t!" Johanna hissed.

She shielded Wally and Tevin with her body as she fired her shotgun at the charging tow truck. The truck continued barreling forward, its heavy steel body unaffected by the barrage of gunfire. Wally grabbed Tevin and Johanna, pulling them away from the lane and toward a walking pa.s.sage between two of the huts. The tow truck-with the younger Russian from Dr. Rainer's office clearly visible behind the wheel-tried to follow them, but the pa.s.sage was far too narrow. The truck tried to power its way through, but it only succeeded in tearing away the corner of one of the huts.

Wally and the others raced away as fast as they could run, the enraged howl of the driver following them.

Back in front of hut 27, there was a break in the gunfire as the two ATF agents reloaded. Klesko took advantage. He threw open the door of the taxi-now riddled with dozens of bullet holes-and rolled out onto the pavement. He jumped to his feet and charged forward, slamming a new magazine into his gun as he ran. He was quicker than the agents-they were still reloading when he sidestepped the burning cruiser and leapt up on top of the second vehicle, standing tall as he gunned down the frantic agents below him with successive shots to the head.

Wally led Johanna and Tevin in a zigzagging pattern through the colony of huts, crossing the lanes that ran north and south and dodging in between the huts in places where the s.p.a.ces were not blocked. Even as they made progress, they could hear the two vehicles now scouting the colony, patrolling the grounds like circling sharks. Occasionally they caught a glimpse of the vehicles, the taxicab now rolling along the north end of the lanes, closing off that direction as the tow truck swept through the lanes behind them, driving them forward.

"They're trying to cut us off," Wally said, and the three of them pushed their pace, hoping there was a way out at the far end of the colony. They finally reached the last lane-and the last row of huts-at the northeast corner of the Navy Yard. Just past the huts was another tall cyclone fence with at least four feet of razor wire looped at the top, virtually impossible to surmount.

"d.a.m.n," Johanna said. "Back this way."

They turned and ran the opposite direction down the lane, the last row of huts on their right and the cyclone fence on their left, the south corner of the lot a hundred yards away. The tow truck-Tiger behind the wheel-pulled into their lane behind them and sped in their direction. Johanna backpedaled as she squeezed off a few shotgun blasts in the direction of the truck, and Wally did the same with her handgun, but the young Russian swerved side to side in the lane just enough to avoid a direct hit from any of the shots.

The others followed Wally as she ducked between two of the huts to make it over to the next lane, sidestepping a half Dumpster and a pyramid of potted plants to make it through, but as soon as they emerged, they found the taxi there-Kles...o...b..hind the wheel-already racing in their direction. The taxicab would easily cut them down if they tried to cross his path.

"Back!" Wally barked.

She reversed course, Tevin and Johanna following as she sped between the next two huts, headed back in the direction of the perimeter fence, where the tow truck was still patrolling. As they ran, Johanna blasted two more shots at the taxicab, but then the chamber of the shotgun rang empty. Johanna tossed the useless weapon aside and continued after Wally.

In the cab of the tow truck, Tiger scanned the row of Quonset huts to his right, where the three had disappeared. He slowed the truck but kept moving forward; he knew Klesko was defending the next lane over, and he expected their quarry would be herded back in his direction soon.

Suddenly there was a blur of motion directly ahead of him as a half Dumpster came wheeling out into his path, the girl and the two others pushing it with all their strength. Tiger had no time to react and blasted into the Dumpster with the crash b.u.mper of his tow truck. It was a major jolt, but the truck was clearly the winner. He accelerated and turned his wheel to the right, plowing the Dumpster out of the lane and into one of the Quonset huts amid a shower of sparks. He backed the truck up ten feet, then surged forward again, wheeling around the Dumpster and racing after the three fleeing figures as they sprinted toward the perimeter fence.

As they moved, the girl and her friends hurled various loose objects into the truck's path, hoping to slow Tiger's progress as he hunted them down. They rolled a round metal picnic table with a large sun umbrella into his path. The ma.s.sive truck plowed it under. Tiger was only slightly inconvenienced by the umbrella, which became stuck on the hood, blocking his view. He never even slowed down but reached out his window and tossed the umbrella aside.

More obstacles stood in his path-large earthenware pots with plants in them, large plastic garbage bins, a wooden trellis, a big barbecue grill on wheels-but none of it was anything more than a minor annoyance as Tiger charged on, the corner of the perimeter fence looming closer. Looking forward, Tiger beheld an unexpected sight: the young "Aretha" girl was standing fifty feet ahead in the lane, directly in his path, her handgun raised in his general direction-but not exactly. Her gun was pointed lower, toward his front wheels. Tiger wondered briefly what the girl was thinking; the truck's crash b.u.mper would protect the engine, and even a tire blowout would not slow him down enough. Then he knew.

"s.h.i.t!" Tiger growled.

Wally stood her ground in the lane, aiming her gun carefully at the barbecue grill that was half-plowed under the tow truck's nose and dragging on the ground. Attached to the barbecue was a medium-size propane tank, and Wally had the tank in her sights. The driver of the truck seemed to realize the danger at the very last moment, and he swerved the truck directly into the row of huts, running over a pile of lumber sc.r.a.ps that were stacked outside one of the dwellings. As the truck ran over the pile, the loose boards dislodged the barbecue from underneath it.

Wally took her shot at the propane tank-now rolling away just to the side of the truck-and the tank exploded in a fireball. The blast did not blow the truck into the air as Wally had hoped it would, but the ploy succeeded anyway: to avoid the explosion, the driver of the truck veered hard to the right, plowing right through one of the Quonset huts and into the next lane over.

"Yes!" Tevin whooped.

But there was little time for celebration. Apparently the taxicab had abandoned its patrol of the next lane, because it was now barreling at them in their own lane from the same direction the tow truck had taken. A crazed-looking Klesko was behind the wheel, plowing aside any remaining obstacles as it sped toward them.

"Come on," Wally commanded, and the three of them raced on to the end of the lane, where the fence surrounding the Navy Yard came to a corner, forbiddingly high and with the same barrier of razor wire on top. The taxi was closing fast on their position.

"There!" Johanna pointed ahead to the last Quonset hut, which had a ramp out front for wheelchair access. "We can use that. ..."

The three of them set upon the wooden ramp-fifteen feet long, at least-dragging it away from the hut and over to the fence. They struggled to tilt the heavy wooden structure straight up to its full height and then tipped it over, toppling the ramp like a felled tree. The ramp crashed down heavily onto the fence, and it sagged a few feet outward under the weight.

Before Wally could react, Johanna reached out and grabbed the Glock out of her hand.

"What are you doing?" Wally asked. "Let's go-"

"I'm right behind you!" Johanna shouted back. "Go now!"

She turned toward the approaching taxicab and blasted away with the Glock. Klesko ducked down beneath the dashboard to avoid the shots and the cab careened into a hut, coming to a crashing stop.

As Johanna continued to fire-making sure Klesko stayed pinned in the cab-Tevin pushed Wally ahead of him and up the ramp, its slope steep enough that Wally had to grip the handrail to pull herself up. As she climbed upward, she looked back over her shoulder, panicked that Johanna was lingering too long as she tried to cover Wally and Tevin's escape.

"COME NOW!" Wally shouted at Johanna, with no response.

"Keep going, Wally," Tevin shouted, and continued to push her from behind. "Get over the fence and she'll come."

Wally understood that Johanna would not make her own escape until Wally herself was free, so she scampered up the last few feet of the ramp and dropped down over the side of the fence, where a row of Dumpsters made the distance easy to jump. As soon as she had touched down safely, Wally called back to Johanna.

"NOW! PLEASE!" she yelled.

Johanna tucked the Glock into her belt, then turned on her heels and scrambled up the ramp. Tevin waited at the top to help her over, reaching out as she approached. Johanna was within an arm's length of Tevin when a mighty roar came from the direction of the next lane over. The tow truck came blasting through the last hut at full ramming speed, tearing the hut off its cement foundation.

The entire hut bent in half from the impact and surged forward with a thunderous sound of tortured metal. The hut collided with the escape ramp, driving it off the fence and crashing it down. Johanna and Tevin rode the ramp to the ground, still inside the Navy Yard and on the wrong side of the fence from where Wally now stood.

"Run!" Wally implored them from over the fence. She grabbed onto the fence desperately, wishing now that she was still on the other side so she could help her friends or share their fate. "Get away!"

But there was nowhere Johanna and Tevin could go. Wally watched helplessly as they tried to pick themselves up from the wreckage, but now Klesko and Tiger emerged from their vehicles and rushed forward, their guns drawn. Wally could only look on in horror as disaster unfolded.

Johanna saw the two men coming toward them and reached back for the handgun under her belt, but ... it was gone. Dazed, she looked around the wreckage of the ramp and the destroyed hut, desperate to find her weapon. She could not find it, but Tevin did; the gun sat on the ground before him. He stared at it for a second as if examining a foreign object. He picked it up, and from the first moment of contact, it was painfully obvious that he had never held a gun before. He awkwardly raised the gun and steadied it with both hands, then took aim at the approaching killers.

"NO!" Wally shouted, but it was too late. As Tevin raised the barrel of the gun, a barrage of gunfire came from Klesko and Tiger, cutting into the boy. He dropped to the ground, instantly lifeless.

"TEVIN!" Wally wailed in agony as she watched her friend die. She truly felt at that moment as if the bullets had entered her as well, ripping through her own flesh as they had ripped through Tevin's, tearing away whatever it was that held life and love. For what seemed like forever she stood motionless, staring with horror and disbelief at Tevin, waiting for a sign of life that in her heart she knew would never come ever again.

"Oh, Tevin ... oh G.o.d. ..." Wally mouthed the words, but there was almost no sound, the air finding no way out of her clenched chest.

But Wally's anguish did nothing to stop the violence from continuing.

Within seconds the two Russians were on top of Johanna. Klesko pistol-whipped her and she dropped to the ground, barely conscious as she groaned loudly in pain. Klesko did not slow his pace but kept moving forward, stepping over Johanna and charging the fence toward Wally, his gun still raised.

Wally stood frozen there for just a moment, still shocked nearly senseless by Tevin's slaughter and the sight of Johanna brutally struck down, her unconscious body now under the control of the two killers. The sight of Klesko raising his gun toward her now, however, stirred her primal sense of survival; she ran, her escape shielded by the Dumpsters against the fence. Klesko threw himself at the cyclone fence and climbed just high enough to get a shot at Wally as she retreated, but when he drew her into his sights and pulled the trigger, the hammer clicked harmlessly. His mag was empty.

"f.u.c.k!" Klesko howled, dropping to the ground and pounding furiously against the fence as Wally made her escape.

TWENTY-EIGHT.

It had taken Atley more than a day to find Special Agent Bill Horst. There had been half a dozen unreturned phone calls to the Manhattan field office and Bill's home, and finally a drop-in visit to the field office, where he never even made it past security. Atley had no luck at all until late the following night, when a call went out over the cop channels about a gun battle in Brooklyn that had involved federal agents.

Atley took a chance and made the drive over the bridge, headed for the Brooklyn Navy Yard. He was en route when some details about the battle came over the radio.

Holy s.h.i.t, Atley thought, listening to the police broadcast. Wallis Stoneman, the runaway, already being sought for questioning in the murder of Dr. Charlene Rainer, had been present at the Navy Yard shoot-out as well. Now an APB came over the radio and it was official: every law enforcement agency in New York was actively looking for Wally. Atley still had no clue what Wallis was up to or how the Sophia Manetti murder figured into it, but he felt vindicated that he had spent so much of his time tracking the girl. Whatever was going on, Wallis Stoneman was in the middle of it.

It was almost nine o'clock that night when Atley arrived at the old Brooklyn Navy Yard, where a fleet of police cruisers and emergency vehicles and news vans had the traffic completely blocked. He double-parked a few blocks away and walked to the yard, badging his way through two Brooklyn police lines. On the way, Atley used his cell phone to dial Special Agent Bill Horst-his fourth try in the past hour-and Horst finally picked up.

"Where are you?" Bill greeted the call.

"Near the gate," Atley said.

"Here at the yard?" Bill sounded unhappy. "s.h.i.t. Stay where you are, Atley. I'll find you. Do NOT come through the gate."

Bill hung up before Atley could reply. Atley obeyed Bill's instruction, hanging back from the broken gate at the yard and waiting for Bill to emerge from the crime scene chaos across the street. Bill Horst finally appeared at the gate of the Navy Yard. He spotted Atley on the opposite sidewalk and crossed over to join him.

"Why are you here?" Bill demanded brusquely. "We got three dead ATF agents over there-I personally knew two of the guys more than ten years-"