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Stories from the Verse
A Dozen Verses
Chapter 68: Kondor 278
Table of Contents
Previous chapter: Slade 273
There wasn’t really any time. Amanda was approaching rapidly in her red convertible sports car, and Kondor needed to stop her. Without time to think, he cut across the street and stopped directly in her lane, staring at her defiantly.
She swerved over the curb and hit a light pole. The airbag in the vehicle slammed into her, but she recovered quickly, hopping over the door and running seemingly uninjured through the front door of what he took to be an office complex.
Zeke arrived. Kondor pulled his bike forward and leaned it against the car. “Secure the vase and watch the bikes,” he said as he raced through the front door behind the thief.
Passing through a vestibule he entered a lobby in which there was an information desk but not much in terms of security. A building directory on the wall suggested that there were at least a dozen separate businesses here, including a few doctors, a couple law firms, an accountant. He did not see the woman--but he heard the sound of a heavy fire door closing. That suggested she had taken the stairs. He saw the sign for the elevators, and scanning he spotted the stairway door. The elevators wouldn’t help; he had no way of knowing where she was going. He scurried to the stairs, not wanting to create a scene--after all, even in France a black man chasing a woman was likely to get attention of a sort he did not want.
As he entered the stairwell he realized that she could have gone either up or down. Down would take him to the basement, but in Paris there might be connections to the old tunnels under the city, and it might be the same here. However, the odds that Amanda knows this particular building and just happened to crash in front of it when he cut her off were minimal, so if she’s looking to escape she’s probably going up. Still, he paused and listened for high heels, which he heard racing up steps above him. He sprang up the stairs two at a time, trying to close the gap.
Of course, she could exit at any floor, and it would be difficult for him to know. As he reached the landing he paused. The clatter had stopped. Either she had left the stairwell or, he thought more likely, she had realized that she couldn’t run up stairs fast enough in heels and had removed her shoes. I can still catch her, he thought, and launched himself up the next flight.
His ascent was slowed because he stopped at each level to look through the glass on the fire door. He realized that she could have exited at any of them and quickly and quietly moved to a position not easily visible, but also that odds were good he would hear the closing of one of these fire doors, a considerably louder noise than bare feet rushing up metal stairs. Eventually he heard it--the closing of a door above. It could, of course, be someone entering or leaving the stairwell as part of their regular work here, but in buildings with multiple offices like this it was at best unusual for any one business to occupy parts of two floors. He redoubled his effort, skipping the next three windows, and then realized that he was standing at the roof door.
She might have left the stairwell at the last door and grabbed the elevator to the lobby. However, if she then exited the front of the building she would run right into Zeke, who probably had the presence of mind to recognize and catch her. There was probably another exit, but then odds were good that any other exits would be alarmed, fire exits which could only be opened from the inside and which alerted the building and emergency services if opened without the key or, possibly, a key code. Well, check the roof. If she’s not there, he’ll have to race back to the lobby and see whether she ran into Zeke or found another exit.
He pushed through.
The flat roof had a raised edge around it, about three feet tall. A gorgeous black woman was sitting on it directly ahead of him, a large purse hanging over her left shoulder and a pair of high-heeled shoes in that hand: Amanda. She spoke first.
“You’re good, Joe Kondor.”
He was pleased to note that she was also catching her breath, that the chase had not been easier for her than it had been for him.
“I think I might have to take you into custody,” he said; “at least until my boss is sure you don’t have what we were sent to get.”
“Oh, I don’t have it,” she said.
“I wish I could take your word for that.”
She shrugged. “I wish you could, too.” Reaching into her purse she drew out a large pistol. Kondor briefly wished he had worn his bulletproof vest, but she turned and fired it across the gap at the next building. Then she swung her legs over the ledge and vanished.
He rushed to the edge and looked over, only to see her hanging on to the pistol with both hands as a wire from it seemed to be hauling her upward toward the spot on the opposite building she had hit. He could shoot her, but to what end? If he didn’t kill her with the bullet, she would fall to her death, neither he nor Zeke would be wherever she landed, and there would be police all over the scene.
Speaking of police, it was likely they were already at the scene of the crash below. He had better get downstairs.
He took the elevator, and straightened out his suit as he descended. Coming out the front door he saw what he expected, Zeke talking to a pair of uniformed police officers. He heard, “Here he is now,” and one of the officers turned to address him.
“Monsieur Mambasa, we understand that you witnessed this accident.
“Indeed, the driver was out of control. She nearly hit me, and then she ran into that building.”
“Not surprising, since the car was stolen not long ago following a theft at an auction house. Do you think you can describe her?”
“Not in much detail,” he replied. “Black woman, late twenties or early thirties maybe, high heels making her tallish, elegant dress, orange maybe, or no, red, I think. I can’t tell you much else.”
The officer nodded. “That’s what your friend said. Well, I guess that’s about it. She seems to have gotten away. If we need you, where can we find you?”
Both of them, as if on cue, gave disappointed reactions, and Kondor said, “We’re due to fly to London this afternoon--business meetings, rather important. However, you should be able to reach me if you contact the Australian Embassy. I do check in when I’m traveling.”
“Very good, sir. Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Kondor said, and Zeke echoed, and they hopped on their bikes.
“Where to?” Zeke asked.
“You have the vase?”
“Yeah, in my trunk here.”
“I have to pick up my trailer from the auction house, so I’ll catch up with you at the hotel. Then it’s the airport. Call Cameron and let him know we’re coming.”
With that the pair separated, on their way home.
There is a behind-the-writings look at the thoughts, influences, and ideas of this chapter, along with eleven other sequential chapters of this novel, in mark Joseph "young" web log entry #529: Characters in Action. Given a moment, this link should take you directly to the section relevant to this chapter. It may contain spoilers of upcoming chapters.
As to the old stories that have long been here:
