Blindside (Michael Bennett 12)

“You’re never going to come around to our way of thinking, are you?” Janos gave him a little smile and patted him on the shoulder to get him to relax.

Tommy shook his head. “No, no, I’ll never think working for Henry again is a good idea.”

Janos said, “That’s too bad. That’s too bad, dude.” He smiled at his use of the American slang.

Alice knew it was also his signal. She was standing directly behind the computer hacker. He was just an inch or two taller than her, so it was no problem to loop her wire garrote around his throat. It was as clean as she had ever done it, over his head and dropping onto his chest under his throat without a single hitch. It was so fast and smooth that she doubted Tommy even knew what was going on.

She gripped the plastic handles attached to either end of the wire, crossed her hands, and used all of her strength, from her lats through her chest, to tug the wire tight around the young man’s throat.

She heard his surprised gasp. Or partial gasp, as the wire cut off his wind.

Janos took a step back. Ever since he had been sprayed with blood when a wire cut a target’s carotid artery, the Romanian was always careful to keep his distance. He could be a diva sometimes. He preferred to use a gun.

She couldn’t see Tommy’s face, but she knew his eyes would’ve rolled up in his head. His hands flailed at his throat. It was too late. It was always too late. Once she had the garrote around someone’s throat, they never got away.

He gurgled and Alice knew it was almost done. This was the most exciting part. She kept steady pressure on the garrote.

She had a tinge of regret, because he was cute, in a nerdy kind of way. But they’d already wasted enough time. She hated to be fooled twice by the same person.

She kept the pressure on until his body started to sag. One knee dropped to the filthy asphalt. She took a second to glance in every direction. No one was close by.

He finally stopped moving completely, hanging in the air with his arms dangling almost to the asphalt. His head drooped forward, and a line of spittle mixed with blood dribbled out of his mouth, but Alice did her traditional ten count, just to be sure.

Janos was still in front of her. He nodded, she released the wire, then she pulled it away from Tommy Payne’s lifeless body. Janos pushed Tommy next to the restaurant wall, behind the racks of cars. His throat was raw and lacerated, but not ripped open. Alice liked it when things went that way. She wasn’t big on a lot of blood.

They walked quickly in the opposite direction they had come from. Janos put an arm around Alice’s shoulders to make it look more casual. He said, “You okay?”

She worked her shoulders and said, “Sometimes that’s more of a workout than I expect. Did you get the photos?”

Janos let out a laugh and said, “I like how you always think about business. I got the photos and will send them to Henry whenever you want.”

Alice said, “Did you figure out the next target on our list?”

“We can start first thing in the morning.”

Alice smiled and felt a little more spring in her step.

CHAPTER 14

WHEN YOU’RE USED to getting up early for work every morning, you don’t change just because you’re on suspension. Like any officer-involved shooting, mine was under investigation, and standard procedure dictated that I could not go in to work. I read that to mean that I could not work at the office.

Having gotten out of bed early, I thought I might as well do something useful. I had a couple of ideas. As long as no one found out, I figured I’d be okay.

I heard Chrissy talking in a weird voice and poked my head into her bedroom. She was on a yoga mat, trying to model a downward dog pose for our cat Socky.

I asked, “What cha doing, beautiful?”

She didn’t change position. “I was wondering if a cat could learn a dog position. It’s really more of a science experiment.”

I chuckled and said, “You keep up the good work in the name of science, but be ready to leave in a few minutes.”

Jane, one of my high schoolers, struggled with a three-foot-by-two-foot folder and her regular textbooks.

“What’s this?”

Jane acted like it wasn’t awkward to hold the giant folder. “My portfolio for art class, with Bridget’s help. I thought I’d do a retrospective of fashion since the nineties.”

I said, “Wow, all the way back to the nineties. How’d you even find photos from back then?”