The German Agent (2014) by Jones J. Sydney

Author:Jones, J. Sydney [Jones, J. Sydney]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical/Thriller
Published: 2014-08-14T23:00:00+00:00

NINE

It didn’t work. Hell, he thought. He pulled the lever again inside the broken glass. Nothing.

Some fool neglected to wire the fire alarms properly, Max thought. Or maybe they’re simply cosmetic. Maybe they’re meant to give the residents a good night’s sleep, but don’t work at all.

Max had no time to try and figure it out, however. The bellhop in the basement cannot be expected to keep quiet all night. As soon as he’s discovered, the game is up.

Max was on the eleventh floor; he looked quickly up and down the hall. He saw what he was looking for midway down the hall, to the left. A tray with a champagne bucket on it, and an obviously empty bottle of champagne in it, sat on the floor outside a room, waiting to be picked up by the maid service. Max moved quickly down the hall, retrieved the tray and folded a white serviette from the tray over the bottle to hide the fact that it had been opened. He pulled out the gun from his shoulder holster now, making sure that no one was in the hall to see, and hid it under the serviette as well. The ice was still somewhat fresh in the bucket.

He took the service stairs up to the twelfth floor. Arriving there, Max found a guard was on duty just outside the door to the stairs, his arms folded and all but asleep as he stood, resting against the wall. He gave a jump when Max came out of the door to the stairs, and reached into his coat for a gun.

Max smiled at him, showing him the tray, and the man relaxed, felt through the napkin for the chill of the ice bucket, and then let Max pass.

‘I could do with a drop of that myself,’ the policeman said as Max went to the door of 1220.

Max smiled again at him over his shoulder, saying nothing; not wanting to risk having his accent heard. At the door he squared his shoulder, balancing the tray in his left hand. He knocked with two sharp raps, then put his right hand under the serviette, gripping the gun. He heard steps coming toward the door.

Fitzgerald watched the arrow going round the semicircle of floor levels inside the elevator. It seemed like they would never get there. Eight, nine, ten.

Niel pulled out his gun, double-checking the chambers to make sure they were full of ammunition. Dressed in evening clothes, Fitzgerald had not bothered to take his gun along.

Eleven.

Come on. Come on, he thought. Maybe I was wrong. I hope so. Maybe this is all a farce.

Twelve.

The doors hesitated for a moment; Niel grabbed them and began pulling them apart, and finally they released.

Maybe I’m simply being paranoid, Fitzgerald was thinking. Then he saw the bellhop down the hall at Appleby’s room.

‘Stop him!’ he shouted, running toward the man.

The bellhop turned at the shout, saw Fitzgerald running toward him, and the door to Appleby’s suite opened at that very moment.

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