CHAPTER 33
A fter Dmitri had taken care of Halim, he drove across Manhattan to the Cinq Etoiles. It was near Times Square. Hoards of people were swarming everywhere. That was both good and bad. Plenty of distraction, but also many witnesses.
He pulled into a parking garage next door, parked, popped the trunk, and slid out his AK-47. Years before, he'd modified that machine gun so it wasn't as long as normal, and now it fit snugly into his gym bag. Dmitri could have been just a young man coming back from the tennis club.
He put on a baseball cap, pulled the brim down close over his eyes, and added a pair of sunglasses. A disguise would have to do at this place, since he didn't see a way to sneak in the back of the hotel. At least the staff wouldn't recognize him here.
Dmitri walked over to the Cinq Etoiles. He strolled so confidently through the busy lobby that nobody stopped him to ask if he had a room there.
As he reached the elevators, he casually yanked the lever of a fire alarm on the wall. Then he ducked into a janitors closet and waited there with the door cracked open so he could watch everyone who fled the hotel. He had a clear view of both elevators and the last level of the emergency stairway.
Within seconds, it was pandemonium. People weren't supposed to use the elevators during an emergency, but many did. Others were knocking each other down the stairs as they rushed to escape the nonexistent fire. That one alarm even set off the water sprinklers on the ceiling.
But Dmitri didn't see Sonya.
Her captors would likely just leave her behind to die in the inferno rather than carry her out if she were drugged or tied up - if she were even alive. But he also didn't see anybody fleeing who looked like a sheikh or Middle Eastern special forces.
Dmitri threw his hat and glasses to the floor, took a black ski mask out of the duffel bag and slid it over his head. He pulled out the AK-47. It was strong and sturdy. He had used it so many times, it felt like an extension of his body.
It was only then Dmitri realized in his fog of rage and fatigue he hadn't found out what room the sheikh was staying in. He hadn't even investigated to find out if there was a sheikh in the Cinq Etoiles. Maybe Halim had given him bad information just to screw him over.
Had he planned better, Dmitri could've charmed a receptionist and found out all he needed to know. If this asshole sheikh was so special, he wouldn't be using his real name in the guestbook, so there was no point in checking it, and the book was probably soaking wet and ruined by now, anyway. Plus, with all the sirens outside, cops and firemen would swarm the lobby any second.
If Halim got a penthouse, then surely this prince, or whatever the fuck he is, must have one too, Dmitri thought.
He charged out of the closet and into an elevator, hitting the button for the top floor, number 60. If Sonya wasn't there, he'd have to check every floor, one by one, looking for some sign of her before he ran into the authorities, even though she might not be there at all or have gone out a fire exit he wasn't aware of.
“Ding ding.”
The elevator rang as it reached the penthouse. Dmitri closed his eyes for a moment as he waited for the door to open. When it did, he saw what he'd been hoping to see, two burly men in tailored suits.
Both had their handguns out, and they opened fire the instant they saw a lunatic in a ski mask come out of the elevator. But their pistols were no match for Dmitri's AK, and he cut them down with a hail of lead as he let out a hellish scream.
He sprinted down the hallway to the room they'd been guarding. The door swung open and another bodyguard emerged. This one came out spraying bullets from an Uzi. He too ate a hunk of Russian lead before he could find his target.
The bastards must have suspected the fire alarm was fake, or it's just their standard security protocol to not leave the room until a true emergency is confirmed. Well, now they know, the emergency was real and a special kind of fire is here just for them.
Dmitri reached the end of the hall. The last bodyguard to come out hadn't had time to shut the door behind him, so Dmitri burst right into the huge suite.
He was in the living room. There were shut doors all around him. He kicked open the first to his right. The guest bathroom. Then another. An empty bedroom. A third. Bingo.
The sheikh was more prepared than Halim had been. He was standing up by the far window, holding a curved dagger against Sonya's throat. The blade gleamed like polished silver.