Capital Falling | Book 4 | Sever Winkless, Lance (most popular ebook readers TXT) 📖

large beast crouched over a body that we saw in this building from the helicopter after we had found Josh, return to haunt my thoughts. The chilling creature was fearsome and looked so powerful as it guarded its prey. My fear that the beast is still in this building is stifling and I must remind myself that the helicopter was a lot higher than floor ten when we witnessed its display.

I put the disturbing thoughts aside, taking comfort in the firepower that I have in my grip. My back pushes me off the wall and after taking another quick look through the glass panel, my hand reaches for the door handle again.

Chapter 16

Pulling the door slightly open, until there is a six-inch or so gap, I listen, my hopes that fresh clean air would burst through the gap to refresh my lungs is short-lived. The air is cooler and definitely an improvement on the stagnant dross I have been filling my lungs inside the stairwell, but not by much. More odours of death waft through the gap in the door, the buildings ventilation system having given up the ghost along with the tower's lifts.

No significant sounds can be heard from my position and so my foot pushes the door open wider so that I can ease the M4 through. I step away from the door and immediately take a knee while it shuts behind me and I listen again.

At first, I think that the debris on the floor are just pieces of shredded paper, and indeed there is paper strewn around, but on closer inspection, however, I see slithers of material in amongst the paper, many of them stained by the blood that also dots the dark coloured hard floor. Whatever leaked the blood is nowhere to be seen, which can only mean one thing, that the culprit or culprits are somewhere else on this floor.

I push myself up to head out and find the office Karen and Jim are holed up in. Phil Matlock, I remind myself of the name I am looking for on the office door that they are hiding behind, as I begin to stalk forward.

I turn left and into a short corridor that I assume can only lead towards the offices on this floor. A sign is mounted on the wall ahead that confirms my assumption, the brightly coloured sign reads Cole & Co, with an arrow pointing right. Next to it is another, more business-like sign that points in the opposite direction for a company named, Brooks Limited. The signage suggests that the tenth floor of the building is split between two companies, one on the left side of the tower and one on the right.

At the end of the corridor, opposite the signs, my M4 pokes out into the shared foyer of the two companies, my head then inches out, until I can get a view of the foyer and I quickly see that the area is empty. Either side of the signs is a door, one for the Gents and one for the Ladies. Both doors are firmly shut, as are both doors that lead into each company and I pause for a moment to consider my options.

I am going through into Cole & Co to find Karen and Jim, but I don’t want any nasty surprises when we come out. I peer around again to see if there is any way to secure the doors of Brooks Limited, so that nothing can emerge from there when we arrive back in the foyer.

The company has black double doors at its entry and each door has a long stainless steel handle, next to each other, in the centre. I could use the M4’s tether to wrap around the handles, but I’d rather it stays where it is. The tether has proven its value multiple times already since my boots hit the sand when I jumped off the boat.

I look around the foyer to see if it can offer up anything to use to secure the doors. The only things in the foyer are potted trees in two of the corners, to give the open space a bit of character. They certainly aren’t there to improve the air quality, you can bet your bottom dollar the trees are plastic, I think to myself, my nose still tackling the stink of death.

The word plastic gives me an idea. I carefully move towards the closest tree, next to the entry to Brooks Limited, my hand reaching for the Gerber combat knife, in my holster.

One chop and two or three slices cuts clean through the flimsy plastic at the base of the tree, the three-inch diameter trunk is no match for the long, razor-sharp blade of the Gerber. Carefully, I carry the tree over to the double door, where I gently push the thick end of the plastic trunk through the handles, I then thread the thinner top end back through the handles and swiftly pull it through until it tightens against the handles. A rasping sound accompanies the pull, as the delicate branches collapse and fold back on themselves. The small noise is worth the risk to keep hold of my tether.

The doors are secure, in a fashion, even though the plastic will not hold a heavy barrage. I turn for the entry into Cole & Co, my tension rising again.

In complete contrast to the professionally mundane blackness of the doors behind me, Karen and Jim’s entrance make my eyes hurt. The colour chosen for these doors is a shocking lime green colour, accompanied by one red and one blue door handle. Cole & Co is a quirky advertising agency, I know this because Karen and Jim have raved about the company enough times to me and looking at the doors only confirms everything that they have told me. I am sure that on occasion, they were angling for business from Orion Securities, despite me always telling them