Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
The newly built research center; the night before inauguration.
It was decided that Chance and the Crane would work directly inside the new research center while the team set up HQ in the nearest hotel, working on the "context" side of things.
"Bet you're grateful to get away", the Crane grinned at Chance as they started searching the building floor to floor. "Are they always like that?"
Winston and Guerrero had squabbled all day over who would get the pot after Ames had shown up with dyed and cut hair.
"Worse", Chance replied, but couldn't suppress a smile, a fact which of course didn't escape the Crane's notice.
"Tight-knit teams like yours are rare", he said. The look on his face implied he was speaking from experience.
Chance chose not to inquire any further. Guerrero – knowing his friend – had warned him urgently not to try and make the Crane one of the good guys by offering him a job with them. "There's this rumor he killed his last crew." After seeing the expression on the Crane's face Chance wondered if there was more to the story, but there was a job to concentrate on first.
The research center was still empty, but from tomorrow morning onwards it would be buzzing with people getting everything ready for the all-important inauguration party in the evening. The Crane's friend was planning to announce the development of the new anti-flu remedy during his speech. If the threat was sent by a competitor he definitely had to strike sometime before that announcement.
All the staff was already on the premises, accommodated in the adjacent guest house and office building after having gone through a severe security procedure including a thorough background check. No last minute substitutes or additions, the Crane had been adamant about this. Unfortunately that policy, pursued for weeks, made it impossible for Chance's team to infiltrate. The Crane couldn't bring in a new waitress etc. now after weeks of forbidding exactly that. This sudden change of opinion would surely tip the threat off and blow the team members' covers in no time.
The only one who would get in was Ilsa – a generous amount of newly acquired stocks had gotten her (but only her) a spot on the guest list. The woman in charge of the guests was just as paranoid as the Crane. Well, no surprise everybody was a bit shaken after the explosion of the old research center and the scientist's murder.
While the men were slowly going from floor to floor, outside night had fallen.
"So I remain hidden throughout the party and keep an eye on the monitors?", Chance confirmed one more time. He was a bit more on edge than usual. It was strange working without Winston's and Guerrero's voices in his ear. The premises were protected with a jammer, the earpieces didn't work.
The Crane nodded and led Chance past a huge metallic door.
"What's behind that?"
"The place where all the company's secrets are kept. The door is protected with biometric locks. After the scientist was murdered we drastically changed the number of people with clearance for this room. Now only my friend and his father, the current CEO, can get in, via retina scan. It's a giant vault, steel walls, no openings, neither windows nor air vents."
The center was eerily quiet, but that was actually an advantage. That way the men's finely tuned senses could perceive the slightest noise, for example the very soft hiss of the elevator's doors opening and closing right on the floor they were currently searching. Chance and the Crane drew their weapons and slowly approached the far end of the corridor where the lift was located.
Smooth like panthers, they rounded the last corner in unison. "Hold it!", the Crane shouted, only to continue: "Oh no, Isamu, what are you doing here?"
A small Asian boy, eight or nine maybe, was standing in the middle of the corridor, looking pretty crestfallen. "I'm sorry", he whispered, hanging his head in shame.
The Crane sighed. "Isamu is the kid of one of the waitresses. He loves elevators. I told him he could ride this one – as long as the building isn't in active use, he can't disturb anyone."
Chance was surprised at this explanation. On the one hand the Crane put so much emphasis on strict security measurements, on the other hand he let a small boy play in here? Why was he cutting him so much slack? Strange.
"But I think I also told you to go in the morning, when the carpenters are busy here. I never permitted you to go here alone, in the dead of night", the Crane reprimanded the boy.
"This morning the elevator was out of order", the boy mumbled, staring at his shoes. "Mom was still working and I was so bored…"
"I'll bring you back to your mother", the Crane said. "Could you wait here till I come back?", he asked Chance.
So he didn't want him to meet the boy's mother? Very interesting… Chance nodded in agreement. He watched the man and the boy thoughtfully as they disappeared into the elevator. They were both of Asian origin and the boy…
Something else suddenly tugged at Chance's attention. Something Isamu had said. The elevator had been out of order this morning? Apparently the Crane hadn't known that or he wouldn't have allowed the child to…
According to the display, the Crane and the boy had reached the first floor by now. Chance called the elevator back up and stepped in. Carefully he looked at the cabin's shiny panels.
There.
Tiny scratches on one wall.
Someone had worked on one of the panels…removed it? Chance carefully worked on the metal plate in question with the tool kit he'd borrowed from Guerrero. Loosening it took several minutes, but it was worth the effort – blinking at him as he took the panel off the wall was what Chance and the Crane had been looking for all evening: A bomb, meant to detonate during the party. Putting it into an elevator was quite reasonable – ignited at the right moment, it could destroy half the building.
Whoever had made this thing, however, hadn't known much about bombs. It was fairly simply built, easy to understand and unproblematic to defuse. You could find plans for these on the internet.
Chance took a deep breath, wondered briefly if this was some sort of trap, decided to trust his gut feeling and pulled the red cord.
The bomb's lights went out.
He had defused it. Wow. Talk about piece of cake.
Chance almost expected some new lights to start blinking or the elevator to begin moving on its own or something like that, but nothing. Looked like this was really it. He pressed the down button and wondered what the Crane would say to this pretty unsophisticated device.
Halfway down to the first floor, he heard it.
Gunfire.
A shootout.
Damn - the boy! What if the Crane had gotten caught in an ambush with the boy?
And besides that, being in an elevator with someone outside shooting is one of the worst places possible – nowhere to take cover.
As the elevator's doors slid open, Chance used the wall panel he had removed to get to the bomb as a make-shift shield. Luckily it wasn't put to the test. Whoever had shot outside was already gone when the elevator with Chance halted.
Not so lucky, however, had the Crane been. He was lying right in front of the doors, blood streaming from a horrible chest wound. "The boy?", Chance asked, crouching by his side.
"With his mom", came the hoarse, gurgled reply. He was choking on his blood. As he opened his mouth to add something, he couldn't speak a word.
Both the Crane and Chance had seen enough people die to know when it was too late.
Chance pulled him in a cradle position, holding him tight, trying to make it somehow easier for him. To his utter surprise, the Crane relaxed. There was no struggling, no fighting for just one more breath… he was fixating some point in the distance, staring at it, and his expression changed from painful to wide-eyed fascination. A smile, blood-smeared and all, but still a smile, appeared on his face.
Then his whole body slumped and Chance knew he was dead.
What in the world…? Chance couldn't stop staring at the dead assassin in his arms.
Was that really peace he was seeing in his face?
Peace?