The Whole Truth (A. Shaw 1)

When they charged in the receptionist in the front foyer had just lifted up the phone to make a call, but the line was dead. A moment later she was too as a bullet hit her in the forehead. She slipped off her seat and fell limp beside her desk, the blood from her head wound staining her dress front. A middle-aged analyst had unfortunately chosen this moment to come into the foyer. A second later he lay dead next to the receptionist. Some of the armed men headed to the basement. Others went room to room on the first floor, kicking open doors and killing anyone inside. Still others raced to the upper floors. There were twenty-eight people in the place today. Not a single one of the twenty-eight would be going home tonight.

When the screams reached Anna’s ear, she thought someone had injured themself. She jumped up and rushed to the doorway. When she heard a muffled sound, she didn’t immediately realize what it was. When she heard it again, the truth hit her.

That was a gunshot! Then she heard several more.

She slammed her door closed and locked it, raced back to her desk, and tried the phone. The line was dead. She grabbed her purse off the shelf and slid out her cell phone. The sounds of footsteps were growing closer. She heard more bangs, more screams, and more thuds as bodies presumably hit the floor. She tried to remain calm but her hands were shaking so badly she could barely hold the damn phone.

She punched in the emergency number for the police and then watched in disbelief as the phone tried to connect, but no ringing came. She had made many calls on her cell from the building. What was going on? She looked at the tiny screen. She had no bars of reception. She tried again and again with no luck. She finally threw her phone down and ran to the window. She was three stories up, but she had no choice. She heard the sounds of feet pounding up the stairs. Her office was the last one on the hall. Still, she probably had barely a minute if that.

She struggled with all her might to raise the window. The exterior had recently been painted and Anna suddenly realized that the idiots had painted the window shut. She dug her fingernails into the wood frame, applied every ounce of strength she had. It would not budge. The sounds were coming down the hall. She heard a door kicked open, and next came a scream. Then a sound like a book being dropped as another body hit the floor.

In the midst of her terror, this actually gave her an idea. She grabbed a book off her desk and used it to smash the window glass open, and then to clean out all the shards. She leaned out the window and screamed.

“Help us! Help us! Call the police.”

Unfortunately it was a quiet street with unoccupied buildings on either side of her and no one was down there to hear. She saw a large van parked at the curb. She called again, but apparently no one was in the vehicle. She was going to throw something at it when she noticed what appeared to be a small satellite dish attached to the van’s roof. It was pointed right at the building.

Her panicked mind still working at incredible speed, the truth came to her. That’s why she had no reception bars on her phone. Whatever was coming from the van was blocking them. She glanced up and down the dead-end street and noted the temporary barriers that had been set up at one end, preventing traffic from coming through.

She slipped off her pumps, climbed onto the windowsill, and looked down. There was an awning over the first-floor window. If I can hit that and then roll to the street.

She had no idea whether there was anyone left in the van. She only knew that if she stayed here she was dead. She steeled herself to jump. Tears were sliding down her face as she heard another door crash open next to her office. A scream, a thump, and then a thud. That was poor Avery. Gone.

God, if only Shaw were here.

She said a prayer, took aim, and tensed her legs for the leap. As soon as she was safely out, she would run like she had never run before, to get help. Although she doubted there was anyone left alive to save. Except her.

The two bullets fired right through the door hit Anna directly in the back and exited out her chest into the fresh air of a London afternoon. She squatted there frozen on the windowsill, seemingly unaware that she had just been shot as blood gushed all over the floor and window. And all over her. As her eyesight began to fade, the blue sky turned brown, the small patch of green grass across the street eroded to yellow. She could no longer hear the birds in the sky or the cars passing along on the next block over. She gripped the wood of the window with all her strength, but within a few seconds, as her blood left her far too fast, she had no strength left.

When Anna Fischer fell, it wasn’t forward and out the window, but backwards, and into the room. She lay there spread-eagled staring at the ceiling of her office.

The door was kicked open and two men came in to stand over her. One of them slid off his mask and looked down at her, shaking his head.

“Damn lucky shot,” he said. “I was just trying to blow the door.”

The other man took off his mask and gazed down at her. “How the hell?” Caesar began. “Two chest shots dead-on and she’s still breathing?”

The other man said, “Give it a minute; she’s about to kick.”

“I don’t have a minute. Look at the window. She was trying to get away.”

The other man followed his gaze to the shattered glass.

Caesar took careful aim even as Anna’s chest started heaving erratically with the last throes of life.

The shot hit her directly in the forehead.

As she let out what was to be her last breath, it sounded very much like a name. “Shaw.”

Caesar used his boot to push roughly against the woman’s shoulder, but it was crystal clear she would never bear witness against them as to what had happened here today.

The second man spoke into a walkie-talkie. He listened for a moment and then nodded.

“All dead,” he told Caesar.

“All dead,” Caesar repeated back. “Hack Squad?

“Almost done.”