8
The hallway blossomed into a frenzy of activity as a shower of hot lead rained down the corridor, wood and plaster splintered, flying into space, dust and debris from the surrounding scaffolding floated in the air. The sound of the gunshots lingered long-after the bullets were fired, bouncing off the bare walls and uncovered floor, slowly rolling throughout the passageway, fading into silence.
"You okay, Artie?" West whispered across the floor.
"I wrenched the hell out of my ankle," Gordon groaned back, snuggled deep into the far wall.
West was on the other side nestled against a pile of building supplies; cautiously peering from around some scaffolding Jim asked Artie, "Did you see any of their positions?"
"Best guess, eighteen-twenty feet…" Gordon ventured a glance down the darkness of the hall, "… two or three boxes over."
Gordon laid out some cover, firing into the blackness as Jim headed back into the suite. He heard the fight down below and carefully peaked over the ravaged railing.
Fairplay was positioned behind an overturned banquet table; she was holding her own but for how long? Two men were snaking their way around, close to out-flanking her and way out of range for his tiny firearm, and from the sounds below, West estimated that there was at least two others, out of sight and keeping Fairplay pinned down.
Jim briefly contemplated jumping box to box, that would only expose him and burn valuable time. The banners suddenly jumped to his attention, his eyes followed them to the ceiling and his prayer that they would be able to handle his weight was cut short as he reared-up and leapt for the closest one.
**********
Fairplay had a pretty good idea what her opponents were doing and she began pulling on the leg of the sturdy oak table to give herself a little more cover from her exposed side. The table's angle and position was giving her a difficult time in getting it into the desired position and her heart kicked into overdrive as fear began to press its way past her training and defenses. One bullet after another pummeled her shelter, deafening the agent; she closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. The forceful pounding in her chest was shaking her entire body, in that split-second of meditation she had expelled the spent cartridges from her revolver and was almost finished reloading it when she opened her eyes to West swinging from a banner above, and amazingly, firing his weapon toward her exposed side.
As his swing began its turn in its elliptical trip, Fairplay appeared on the far side of the table, now with an idea where her assailants were, took a bead on the two trying to out-flank her. With excellent marksmanship, Fairplay dispatched a quick death, delivering a headshot to both men.
She spun and covered West; Jim had disposed of the .22, did his best not to flail, and tightened his body in order to pick up as much momentum as possible for the remainder of his swing.
Cassandra's good eye and steady hand had cleared the way for West, for she drove two more bullets into their aggressors. West readied himself and focused on the shadows within the neighboring suites, a flash of gunfire appeared and he felt the bullet pass dangerously close, before another shot could be fired Jim was in the air and hurtling into the darkness of the tiny box.
West collided with the figure in the dark with a tremendous thud and they both smashed into the chairs of the suite. In the blackness Jim fought to locate the assailant, he heard the sounds of someone scrambling in search of something. The unmistakable sound of the hammer of a revolver cocking pierced the dark, and Jim grabbed and swung the first thing he could get a hold of. The attacker let out a yelp as the legs of the chair whipped around, smashing into his gun-hand causing his revolver to fly out of the box. Before he could bring the chair around for a second blow, West was struck with a flailing kick that landed on the side of his face, sending him tumbling back into the railing. Jim could hear the gunplay in the hallway as his attacker fled the scene, leaving the door of the suite open.
**********
Cassandra was able to light the rest of the hallways sconces as West and Gordon tended to their wounds, after examining the thug laid out on the floor of the corridor she made her way to the injured duo.
"Well placed shot Mr. Gordon," Fairplay congratulated Artie, "right between the shoulder blades."
"Just lucky I guess," Artemus stated as he tested the strength of his ankle, "Too bad I could not stop the last one from escaping."
"Miss Fairplay," West greeted as he tried to rub the soreness from his jaw.
"I saw the hidden compartment, but," she pointed out to West, "unfortunately, the banner you used for your trapeze act was the one that had covered Huet's view of the suite."
"That doesn't change the fact that he could not have made the observation that he claimed too," Gordon added.
Fairplay turned to West, "How did you know about the crawlspace?"
"Since the theatre is being renovated and no one had been seen leaving the scene, I figured the assassin had simply hid until he had an opportunity to leave undetected when it was all clear,' he patted the cigars in his chest pocket, 'actually I got the idea from a cigar box."
"Speaking of cigars," Gordon approached, "this must have fallen from the pocket of the man you swung into," he presented a broken cigar.
Jim checked to see if he had lost one of his cigars in the fracas, pulling them from his pocket, the realization that they happened to be the same brand sent a cold shiver throughout his body, "Artie," he indicated, "I think I know how they kept me occupied and out of the suite until the right moment.' 'Her name is Anastasia Chase."