The Collectors

Chapter 14

The pounding on the washroom door persisted and Anton finally unlocked it and drove a ham-sized fist into the surprised face of a visitor to the building who was standing with his legs crossed. The Russians had commandeered the public washroom to rinse off the effects of the Mace and reorganize their plan of assault.

"Was just pest." Anton said.

"You will go and drag pest in here and then make certain there are no police arriving because you fired your weapon." Gregory was leaning on the counter watching his face in the mirror as he spoke, aiming for the grimmest expression he could muster. The skin along his jaw was red and stinging terribly.

"Is just pest. No police."

"You are the pest, Anton. You and you're mud-filled head. Do not make me any angrier, just follow orders." He tried to hang his head but his neck was too thick.

Nikoli was leaning against the urinal holding a soaking piece of paper towel over his face. Light sobs came from beneath its cover. Luckily he'd been able to close his eyes before too much of the toxic spray hit but his eyes were stinging beyond reason and the bit that had landed in his mouth was making him nauseous. Gregory washed his face for the tenth time and dried it tenderly; the red blotches across his jaw and neck signaled a reaction to the spray and the area was becoming extremely itchy.

The door opened and Anton dragged the limp form of a man into the room by the leg. The victim's trousers were dark stained in the crotch and Anton annoyingly pointed out the obvious.

"Put him in a stall." Gregory waved with frustration. He straightened up, scratched gently at his spreading rash and delivered his plan. "We take the elevator to floor above and descend by stairs to DeWhitt's floor. Once inside we secure area by whatever means necessary." He glared at Anton. "This time you may use your weapon with permission."

Nikoli removed the wet paper and blinked, one hand out in front like a blind person. "I have blur."

"Wash with soap again," Gregory ordered. "And be quick. We go now."

******

Connie's apartment was in a quiet dead end street with a row of what would be lovely shade trees in the summertime. Right now it looked like a landscape from, The Corpse Bride with stripped, dark branches stuttering in the wind against a backdrop of charcoal sky. Inflatable snowmen stood on a few lawns of adjacent houses, buffeted by the wind and at one house the rear end of a dummy Santa stuck out from a second storey window. Holly and Jacob left the car and entered the building's lobby where Jacob once again employed his skill with the entry lock and then they dashed up the stairs to the third floor and down to Connie's apartment.

"Go ahead, knock." Jacob whispered. She took a breath and did so.

Nothing happened but Jacob, with his ear against the door, held up a finger and nodded, indicating that somebody was inside. Holly knocked again. Still nothing.

"Sydney, we know you're in there. Open the door or we will have to do it for you."

Jacob was getting his pick out when the door opened a crack and an eye peered around the frame. It disappeared and Holly pushed the door open before stepping inside. Daniel was standing by the living room door, wearing a bed sheet like a toga.

She and Jacob moved into the apartment together, closing the door after them.

"Did we interrupt a party?"

"How did you find me?"

"It wasn't that hard... Daniel."

His face clouded and his shoulders slumped at her use of his real name. "How...?"