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The two goons were running pretty fast towards the front of the building. They weren't just checking hotels, not with the way they were moving. Odds were they knew exactly where we were, which was a problem all by itself, but one I would have to deal with later rather than sooner.
"Shit," I said out load. "They found us."
Renata looked terrified again. Filling in the blanks on what she said happened to the girls Yuri didn't want any more, I couldn't even began to imagine what he would do to someone who openly betrayed him. From her look, it seemed Renata could imagine it.
But first they would have to get hold of her, and I was pretty set on that not happening.
"Go into the bathroom, and lie down in the bath tub," I told her. "Leave the door to the bathroom open."
She started to get up when her brain finally processed the words and she stopped.
"The bath tub?" she asked.
"Yes. It's strong enough that, if there is a stray bullet, the tub has a good chance of stopping it. Best we can hope for at the moment."
She turned and headed to the bathroom while I was working on the plan that had popped into my head. It was a little 'out there, ' but it was all I could think of.
Going to the window, I pulled it open. There wasn't a fire escape, which actually worked in my favor. I pulled the bed spread off the bed and grabbed the thin sheet underneath and the one tucked into the bed. I tied the two sheets together and Twisted it into a rope I tied one end to the foot of the bed, and the other to a lamp. Once it was tied off, I tossed the lamp out the open window. Thankfully, it was heavy enough that it pulled the sheet taut, with the lamp hanging about four feet below the open window.
Anyone who gave it a moment's thought would realize that the bed sheets weren't nearly long enough for someone to climb to the ground on. Hell, this kind of thing would never work in reality, but you saw it all the time on the movies and TV. I was hoping these guys had watched some of those shows, and would be fooled by it. I didn't need the ruse to hold up. Any distraction would give me a slight edge, which I needed as there were two of them.
I turned on the lights in the interior of the room and shut off the lights by the door and in the bathroom. This should be enough for them to focus on what was straight in front of them, and not clear the rooms as a professional would. Groups like this had sometimes brought in ex-military types, before. If that was the case, and they were disciplined, then I was in trouble. No one with training would continue into the room without clearing potential danger areas first.
I moved back into the restroom, and stood next to the tub that hid Renata. I had the gun I had taken off the fallen Marshal in my hands. If they arrived in less than twenty seconds, then they knew exactly what room I was in. That didn't mean someone at the Marshal's office tipped them off, they could have gotten the info from the front desk clerk. Of course, how fast they found us didn't let the Marshal's service off the hook, either.
My thoughts were interrupted by a splintering sound as the door to the room exploded inward, courtesy of the boot that followed it through into the room. I pulled up my gun and waited. The first hint that they were looking my way, I was going to open up. That, however, was a 'worst case' scenario, as it would leave the other guy alive, and me boxed in, in a small room. If that happened, my chances of making it out of this alive dropped dramatically.
"Oni vyshli okno," the first guy said as he rushed past the bathroom door.
In Special Forces, communication with locals is a big thing, and we usually learn the language of an area where we are going to be deployed. I had learned passable Russian for my deployment there, but that was more than eight years ago. Language, especially one you are not fully fluent in, is either used or lost.
I had forgotten most of my Russian, but I recognized the word for window, which suggested they were taking the bait. The second guy hurried past the restroom, on the heels of his partner. As soon as he passed the door, I started to move. I stepped out, looking into the main part of the room and at the backs of the two gunmen.
I didn't wait or say anything. Shooting someone in the back may be considered unsporting, but one of the first things you learn in the military, is that combat isn't sporting. It's fast, brutal and vicious.
I pulled up my gun, and put a round in high in the back of the closest man. He went down like his strings were cut, which meant my bullet found its mark. I had been aiming for the spine in the upper area of the chest, reasoning that if I hit it, he would go down instantly. Had I missed, I was still in the vicinity of his lungs and heart, either of which would have put him out of the fight as well.
His partner started turning at the sound of gunfire. He was standing just by the window, and it didn't seem he had looked out the window and discovered my ruse, yet. The hand holding his weapon was still hanging at his side, all but useless in a situation like this. These guys were definitely not of the professional variety.
I shifted my aim, going for 'center of mass, ' as I had been trained. I wanted to make sure he was out of the fight, and since there was a new source of ammo readily at hand once both men were down, I wasn't worried about wasting bullets. I pulled the trigger twice in rapid succession. Both rounds impacted solidly in the middle of his chest, with a spray of red follow out from the bullet's impact.
With a thud, his body also dropped to the ground.
I discarded the Marshal's weapon, and picked up the gun being carried by the closest Russian. Checking it, I found the firearm was fully loaded and, after patting the man down, I discovered a full clip in one pocket. I didn't know for sure if there would be any more violence in my near future, but I wanted to be prepared. When my search didn't turn up any keys I checked the pockets of the other man, eventually finding them. Sadly, I didn't find any more ammunition in this guy's pockets, so I dropped the magazine from his gun, and pocketed it.
That accomplished I went back to the restroom.
"Renata," I said turning on the light. "We need to get going, right now."
She stood up, and stepped over the edge of the tub, asking, "Are they..."
"Yes," I interrupted her, "Now we really need to hurry."
When we'd been down in the street by the Marshal's car, there had seemed to be a never ending flow of these guys. Considering I knew for a fact there was still one more SUV driving around out there, and that it most likely had more gun toting Russians in it, this room no longer seemed like a safe place to wait. I was also still bothered by how quickly those guys had found us.
I grabbed Renata's hand, and pulled her after me, opting to take the stairs over waiting for the hotel's rickety elevator. Once in the parking lot I made a beeline for the black SUV that these guys seemed to buy in bulk. Pressing the key fob I was rewarded with a flashing of lights that signaled the alarm had been disabled, and the doors were unlocked.
I motioned for Renata to climb in the other side as I pulled open the driver's door and slid in.
"Where are we going," she asked as she sat down in the passenger's seat.
"I know a guy who runs a junkyard, somewhere between here and Tampa. Hopefully, I can get him to switch vehicles with us, and maybe get a little support."
"We aren't waiting for police," she asked, sounding concerned.
"No. These guys found us way too fast. They should have had to search all the hotels and motels in several blocks, plus other hiding spots. I can see one other pay-by-the-hour place from right here, and yet they came straight to us. I am worried that someone in the Marshal's office tipped them off."
"How..." she started, but I cut her off.
"We can get into that in a few minutes. I have some questions that, I hope, will give us some more clues. But first I have to call our friend on the phone back."
I pulled out of the parking lot and headed through the streets, turning the SUV to the west, to get us out of town. I had only visited Miami twice, both times to see Claire's parents. She had driven, both times. I was just guessing at where we were going, but West seemed like a good bet, as I remembered that US Route 27 ran North, up through the middle of the state.
"Open the glove box, see if there is a map," I told her.
There wasn't. One more thing to deal with. We would have to stop and buy a map along the way. I figured we would find a Walmart, as they liked to put them near main roads such as US-27. We stopped at the Hialeah Gardens Walmart where I got some jeans and pocket t-shirts while Renata grabbed a few pieces of clothing for herself. I also grabbed a Florida map. I grabbed some disposable razors at the checkout line as I ran a hand over my stubble covered face.
For about a year before I was attached to the Special Warfare Command, I had been attached to ODA-447 with the 10th Special Forces. One of our engineers was finishing up his last tour, and had always planned on starting a car restoration business when he got back to the States. He was one of the guys who called me while I was at Walter Reed to wish me well. We hadn't been close or anything; but there is a bond you form with guys you serve with, that's hard for anyone who hasn't been in the shit with someone, to understand.
When we talked, he mentioned he had finally opened that shop in Fort Meade, Florida, which apparently had no relation to the military base in Maryland. Maybe he liked the symbolism of living in a place that shared a name with somewhere he was once stationed. My plan at the moment was to show up at his door, and try and beg a little help for an old service buddy. I needed to dump this SUV, since there was always a chance it could be traced, and hopefully I could convince him to hang on to Renata. She was a nice enough girl, but something was leading the Russians to us, and I was concerned it was someone in the Marshal's office. I needed to go talk to them, but if there was someone there working for the Russians, taking her with me was a bad idea.
I trusted Albert to be able to protect her. He had always been tough as nails.
But first I needed to call the Marshal back. I wanted to do it while we were still traveling straight west, before we turned north towards Fort Meade. If the Russians were tracking the phone, heading north after turning it back off again might throw them off enough to make our escape.
I powered the phone on. While I was waiting for the smart phone to boot up fully, it dinged that it had twenty new voice mails. They must be really pissed that I had shut the phone off. There had been enough time since we left, that the Marshals had almost certainly already showed up at the room, and found the scene I'd left for them.
"Taylor?" the voice on the other end asked.
"Yeah," I said.
"What the hell happened? My guys got to the room to find you and the girl gone and two dead Russians."
"I should be asking you the same thing. They drove straight up to the hotel, ran in and headed straight for our room. They knew where we were!"
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