Chapter 21
Susan woke with a groan. Her body… it wasn't exactly protesting; more announcing that she was simultaneously sore, satisfied, and not entirely uneager for more. She rolled over, brushing hair from her face, and belatedly noticed that she was alone in the bed. Sitting up, she looked around the room. Her clothes lay strewn around the floor.
Elijah was gone.
Slumping back down against the headboard, she hugged her knees against her chest and drew the sheets up around her. "Okay," Susan muttered. "That happened."
One shower and fresh set of clothes later, she left her room. Stepping across the hall to Elijah's room, she raised her hand to knock on the door – and paused.
He'd left.
On his own. Without saying anything. It doesn't mean anything. She repeated that to herself over and over down the elevator and out through the exit. She found herself on the lookout, watching for any sign of Elijah – uncertain whether she did so from professional or personal reasons. Damned confusing, not knowing whether the next time she saw him she'd shoot him, yell at him, or start tearing his clothes off.
Rizzi shoved all of that aside as she made her way through the city; the knowledge that Silver Mountain now actively sought her head meant she had to be even more cautious.
Sleeping with your would-be assassin doesn't change anything.
Of course, sleeping with one's would-be assassin wasn't exactly… traditional. Was it?
She sighed, checking another street as she rounded the corner, moving swiftly. She didn't exactly have a plan, other than the knowledge that she was supposed to be hunting Elijah – Wu, she told herself – down. And the minor issue of not actually knowing if she even wanted to find him, one way or another. But Fabbro had expectations. Damn it all.
What, then? She had to look like she was on the job, at least. Searching for Wu: that meant Silver Mountain places. Chinatown? Out of the picture. Too heavily defended. Any trouble she started would get way out of hand, and fast. Somewhere else: one of the smaller outposts, like an office holding near the Financial District. Ostensibly it was some liaison office between American and Chinese companies. Yeah, sure.
The office sat on the eighth floor of one of the upscale towers, all gleaming steel and glass. Rizzi made her way through the brightly lit interior, passing through the Chinese-styled decorations and furniture to the reception desk where a studious-looking young man swiveled his gaze back and forth between the two monitors before him. She rapped her knuckles against the surface to get his attention. "I'd like to talk to the Silver Mountain representative."
His eyes widened and his arm slipped towards the underside of the table.
"Don't. I'm just here for a conversation with Hong," Rizzi said, her other hand gripping the pistol beneath her coat. "You go loud, you're not going to live long enough to even regret it."
He froze, stared at her for a minute, then nodded fractionally and retracted his arm. "Please wait here a moment," he said, rising to his feet and half-turning towards the doorway that led further in.
She retreated a half-step as the man strode off quickly; she kept a hand on her gun and her head on a swivel, moving to a position where she could cover all the doorways with minimal effort. Hong was… honorable in his own way, but that had been before she'd started putting bullets into Silver Mountain Elders. No telling what he might do now.
What he did two minutes later was step out into the lobby, accompanied nervously by the reception man. Hong Zhusheng was a slight man in an immaculate business suit that made his silvery hair stand out. "Miss Rizzi," Hong said. "I wish I could say it was a pleasure to see you again, but these are perhaps not the best circumstances, hmm?"
"Probably not," she said. "I'm not looking for trouble here and now. Is there someplace we can talk?"
"Of course." Hong gave a shallow bow and gestured for her to follow him.
He led Rizzi down a hallway to a corner office. Nodding to a couch against one wall, he circled his desk and took a seat. Rizzi sat, grateful that he hadn't insulted her by making her sit with her back to the door. "You've moved up in the world," she said.
Hong gave her a grim smile. "Please, do not think I am ungrateful for that matter with the Rollins sisters, but I must tell you." He glanced at his watch. "You have three minutes before a team arrives, regardless of what happens to me. I suggest you speak quickly."
"I want to know where Elijah Wu is. I know he's working with Shun."
"You seek him because?"
"Fabbro knows he's responsible for the job at Silken. He's a target."
Hong chucked. "I do not know whether I should be insulted or entertained by your audacity. You sided with Fabbro, and now you come to me for assistance against my fraternity?"
"It was worth a shot," she said, standing. "Well, I appreciate the time."
"Speaking of time." Hong looked at his watch again. "You have less than two minutes now."
Rizzi gave an instant's thought to just shooting him then and there. She dismissed it in the same instant; killing Hong would accomplish nothing. Instead she whirled and left the office at a dead run, sprinting through the halls.
The man at reception half-spun as she came rushing towards the lobby. He pulled a short-barreled shotgun from beneath the desk and came to his feet, pushing off from his office chair. Rizzi didn't slow as she dashed through. She wrenched the barrel of the shotgun aside with one hand, plucking it from the man's hand with a deft turn of her wrist. The elbow of her other arm slammed into his jaw. The man made an almost-graceful pirouette as he went down.
Rizzi kept running, racking the slide of the shotgun with each step before tossing the empty weapon aside. She ran to the elevators, mashed the down button, and ran for the staircase door. The tromp of footsteps coming down from above made her draw short and reverse course. Fortune smiled on her as one of the elevators arrived with a pleasant chime.
Rizzi threw herself into the elevator as the staircase door slammed open. Pounding the button for the ground floor, she caught a glimpse of suits and black hair charging towards her before the elevator doors slid shut. They weren't quite carrying open weapons, but the hands reaching beneath jackets told her everything. The elevator started downwards with a smooth roll.
Elevator. Deathtrap, more like. Using the waist-high rail as a step, she boosted herself up to the ceiling and ripped the rooftop hatch open. Rizzi pulled herself through the square opening and into the dark, musty confines of the elevator shaft. She leapt and grabbed onto the emergency ladder, holding on as the elevator continued its downward journey without her.
Rizzi climbed to the nearest set of floor doors, pried them open, and stepped out into the hallway to the astonished gaze of a pair of businesspeople. "They warned me they were having some technical issues with these things," she said, smiling politely, and moved on.
Wu checked in at the construction site where Tiger Shun was currently holding court. His breath left little puffs of vapor in the cold as he descended down to the basement. He waited while Shun paced between the workers lining the edges of the room, checking in quietly with each. Shun paused halfway between two people, pulled his phone from his pocket, and proceeded to have a quiet conversation of some length that Wu couldn't overhear.
Finally Shun turned to Wu and waved him forward as he walked towards the separate round table.
"Have you come to report success on the job?" Shun said quietly.
"No." Wu shook his head and leaned in, lowering his voice to match Shun's. "I haven't located her."
"Are you aware," said Shun, "that she is seeking you as well?"
Right, he wasn't supposed to know that. "What do you mean?"
"I just had a very interesting conversation with Old Man Hong. Are you familiar with him?"
Wu shook his head again.
"Unsurprising. He devotes his time and efforts here in the city. He had a visitor today: Susan Rizzi. She went to him asking for your whereabouts."
"Did she?"
"Hmm." Shun stroked his chin. "It seems Fabbro has knowledge of the contract against Tracitus."
"Well, that makes things interesting."
"Irritatingly so," Shun said. "Two hounds chasing each other do not catch the hare. But…" He glanced over at Wu, his gaze cold. "Can you take her?"
Wu pressed his lips together at that phrase. It would probably be better not to respond; there was every chance he'd say something wildly inappropriate and reveal certain details he really shouldn't.
"Well?" Shun said after a moment.
Forcing a confident grin onto his face, Wu nodded. "I believe I can."
"Good. If this is happening because of Tracitus, we may have a way to put this to use."
Once she lost the Silver Mountain team things slowed. Rizzi moved around the city, haphazardly and randomly. It fit with her mental state, she reflected darkly. From moment to moment she vacillated between wanting to find Elijah and wanting to avoid him.
She cursed herself again as the scant sunlight faded. This is why you don't. Get. Involved. Idiot.
And again back at the hotel she found herself outside Elijah's door, hand stretched halfway out to knock on it. Susan caught herself, shook her head, and turned back to her own room.
Two fruitless days later she received a summons from Fabbro. She navigated the city furtively to the former bank he was using.
"No success, huh?" Fabbro said when Rizzi entered the vault. A number of the old individual safety deposit boxes had been removed from their slots in the walls, leaving it a pockmarked, pitted appearance. Several computers sat clustered together on the tables near the end of the rectangular room. There was no way reception from outside could be any good, but that was probably the point; all the metal undoubtedly prevented anything outside from getting a good return as well. Edmondo stood over one, peering down at the screen as he jotted down notes.
"It's one man," Rizzi said, "in Manhattan. Not a regular resident either. Locating him may not be easy."
"I know," Fabbro said shortly. "But blood calls for blood."
"That doesn't speed the process up."
"No," said Edmondo. "It does not. But…" He lifted a finger as he stepped towards them from the computers. "There's been another development that may alleviate it."
Rizzi lifted an eyebrow, ignoring the tension coiling in her gut.
"Mister Wu was not the only one from Silver Mountain at Silken when Mister Tracitus was killed," Edmondo continued. "In fact, he was far from the most significant member there."
Wu wasn't technically a member of the Silver Mountain at all, Rizzi thought, remembering some of their conversations, but she knew better than to say anything about that. As for who else... that must be-
"Do you remember Miss Ma? She was on the list of persons of interest after the summit with the Bazaar." He held up a surveillance photo on his tablet: a partially-focused image of the Chinese woman exiting a car.
"Yes." Of course, she'd been wearing something very different the last time Susan had seen her. "Not much information about her."
"It appears she may not be as circumspect as we first thought. There's been word of her… activities at Silken. Activities that mark her as present the night Mister Tracitus was murdered. It seems she brought along a guest – a man of mixed descent, one who typically operates on the West Coast and the Asian regions."
"Wu."
"Not hard to read between the fuckin' lines, huh?" said Fabbro. "She brought her boy toy there to kill Julius."
"We also have," Edmondo said, holding the tablet out to her, "an address. Hers."
"This all came to light in the last two days?" Rizzi asked, looking it over.
"A slip-up of their security. It seems she hosted an Elder at her apartment for a tea tasting. They were not as careful as they should have been."
"You understand," said Fabbro, "this in no way means the contract on that Wu punk is gone. I want him dead. I want him to die slowly, in great pain. But here you are complaining about a residence. There's one. Take the bitch out. Maybe that'll draw him out too, huh?"
Rizzi paused, then breathed out. "Maybe it will."