Kill Shot: A Remnant of the Commonwealth, Book Two (14 page)

Aaron fought hard to not react but inside he was spinning. He desperately wanted to make sure there weren’t any signs pointing back to him.
This man’s dangerous,
he thought.
I need to get away from here.

“Look,” Aaron said, starting to push away from the bar, “I don’t want any trouble.”

Ben’s hand shot out and grabbed Aaron by the wrist.

Aaron
glanced in the direction of the other patrons, but strangely enough, none of them were watching him and Ben.

“You mis
understand me,” Ben said quietly. He also looked toward the rest of the pub. “Come. Let’s talk in back.” He released his hold on Aaron’s wrist and stepped out from behind the bar. He took two long steps and passed through a doorway at the end of the bar.

Aaron was unsure of what to do. His initial instinct was to make a break for the door, but that might
cause the other patrons to try and stop him. Even if he made it, Ben would suspect that he was going to cause problems at the wedding.

Sighing, Aaron stood up and straightened his clothes. He flexed his leg and felt the reassuring pressure from his ankle holster; unfortunately, it was not all that easy to retrieve the weapon. Oh, how he wished he had the Horace strapped to his hip.

He took one more look around the room and followed Ben through the doorway.

He stepped into a small office space. Ben sat in a chair behind a small desk directly in front of the doorway. There were two empty chairs, one to either side of the doorway. A couple of shelves and some boxes were the only other things in the small room.

“Close the door,” Ben said with a smile. “We don’t want anybody to overhear, now do we?”

Aaron obediently closed the door and then sat down in
the chair on the right. “Listen—”

Ben waved him to silence.
“Don’t waste my time denying it,” he said. “I can tell you’re up to something; I just don’t know what it is.”

Aaron didn’t reply;
instead, he just watched Ben.

Ben smiled. “So what is it? Planning on robbing the wedding?”

Aaron said nothing. He tried hard to minimize his movements, not to blink or move his head. It was like a card game; he didn’t want to give any visual clue as to whether Ben was cold or hot.

“No, perhaps you’re going to kill someone at the wedding?”

“Perhaps I’m going to kill someone in this room,” Aaron replied. It wasn’t an actual threat, but Ben was making him uncomfortable and he just wanted to level the playing field.

Ben tilted back his head and laughed. After a moment his mirth subsided. “I suggest you rethink whatever it is you have planned,” he said.

Aaron tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “Are you threatening me?” he asked.

Ben blinked in surprise. “By no means. I
’m trying to warn you. That bastard Woodson is not to be fucked with. If he catches you, he’ll kill you, and I don’t mean fast. Then he’ll track down anyone who’s ever mattered to you and kill them too.” He shook his head. “No, I wish you luck in whatever it is you’re doing, but I think you should know what to expect if you fail.”

There was something in Ben’s voice that seemed just a bit off. It took a moment for Aaron to realize what it meant. “Are you speaking from personal experience?” he asked.

After a brief pause, Ben nodded. “Yes. I had a cousin who worked for Woodson a long time ago. He crossed Woodson somehow, I’m not even really sure what he did, but he turned up dead. His wife and kid died in a fire. His brothers and sisters died in strange ways. Some of the more distant family lost their jobs or had their businesses shut down.” He paused and looked up. “Rethink whatever it is you have planned and stay away from that wedding.”

“So will you sell me some of those robes or not?” Aaron asked, ignoring the unasked-for advice.

Ben sighed. “You’re a stubborn man, aren’t you?”

Aaron’s answer was a
mere nod.

After a moment, Ben
returned the nod. “Fine,” he said.

Aaron returned to his hotel much later than he had from the tour. It had taken several hours to find the tube station and then another hour to make it back to his room. He was tired but also excited. For most of the day he had been afraid that he was wasting his time, but the clothing might just be the thing he needed. He certainly hoped it was, as he intended to scout closer to Hilltop tomorrow.

He lay down on his bed, tired from the day’s activities. He meant to just rest for a moment and then go get
a late dinner. That was the last thing he remembered for a long time.

Chapter
17

Aaron woke the next morning, a little stiff but refreshed. He took a long, hot shower and then dressed quickly. He wore similar clothes to the those he wore the day before, but this time he carried a small pack; the brown robes were rolled up and hidden away within. His plan was simple: once he reached Oldtown, he would throw the robes on over his clothes and reconnoiter the area around Hilltop.

He retrieved both of the small Oliver handguns from the safe, placing one in a holster on his right ankle, and the second in a holster underneath his left arm. He would have liked to take the Horace, but it tended to stand out a bit.

It was still early when he left the room and he descended the stairs quickly. Entering the lobby, he caught sight of Betty and she waved him over to the desk.

He smiled as he walked up. “Yes?” he
asked.

Betty returned the smile
. “I heard back from the hotel manager,” she said a bit breathless. “He said they would be willing to refund a third of your tour cost, but they won’t go any higher. Don’t forget the tour also refunded a third of the cost.”

Aaron was surprised. He hadn’t really expected even that much. He knew the typical tourist thing to do was to argue
for more, but he couldn’t care less. “Why, thank you so much for your efforts,” he said, meaning it. “I really appreciate all you did on my behalf.”

Betty practically beamed at him.

Another guest approached the counter looking for help, and Aaron excused himself.

He exited the hotel and headed for the tube station. He intended to walk straight there but the grumblings of his stomach pulled him up short. He’d eaten dinner in the
late afternoon and not a bite since. It was time to remedy that.

He stepped into a small store and purchased a local fruit drink and a pastry the size of his hand. He then continued his trip to the tube station, eating as he went.

The tube ride back to Oldtown was uneventful. He emerged from the same tube station as yesterday, but this time he went more northerly, intending to visit the area around Hilltop.

Walking slowly, Aaro
n played the part of a tourist—stopping to look at various stupid things along the way.

After about thirty minutes, Aaron spotted a small alley that was partially obscured by shadows. He glanced around to see if anyone was watching and, satisfied that nobody was paying him
any attention, he quickly stepped into the alley.

The alley was narrow with the buildings on either side towering over it. In addition, piles of garbage made it even more difficult to see
far back into the alley.

Aaron stopped behind a fairly high pile of garbage and opened his pack. He was careful not to drop the brown robe into the muck.

He emerged from the alley several minutes later—his robes were on and his hood pulled up. The hood hid most of his head but still allowed him to see.

He continued his slow walk in the direction of Hilltop. The hood obscured his ability to see to either side and behind him, but he wasn’t overly worried.

The first hint that he was getting close was when a transport loaded down with security guards roared past him.

Aaron pulled up, surprised that he been lost in his own thoughts. He had to remain alert or he could get into real trouble.
He looked around, just now realizing that there were less pedestrians on the streets and some of the shops were closed.

Aaron moved closer to the buildings and looked around, trying to get his bearings. He knew he was going in the general direction of Hilltop, but he wasn’t sure exactly how close he was. Twenty yards farther down the sidewalk he spotted a guidepost. Reaching it, Aaron glanced over the map, surprised to see he was less than a mile from Hilltop.

Judging from the map, the sections of Oldtown on the western side of Hilltop were a bit more affluent, while those areas on the eastern side were more rundown.

Aaron stepped away from the guidepost, heading northeast. He walked slower now, keeping an eye out for any mo
re patrols. He spotted a couple but only at a distance.

Less than ten minutes after leaving the guide
post, the area became noticeably more rundown. Each block seemed to be worse than the last, and there were even fewer people about.

By his estimation, Aaron was a
bout half a mile from Hilltop—that would be the approximate range for him with a sniper rifle. He knew that some snipers could kill at nearly two miles, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t shoot that far even if he used a modern sniper’s rifle. And he didn’t intend to use a modern rifle; he intended to use the antique he found in the outfitter goods.

The idea had occurred to him after he took the tour bus to Hilltop. The shield generators around Hilltop would deflect
shots fired from a modern rifle but were useless against an ancient, solid-projectile-firing rifle.

In order to fire the old rifle, Aaron thought his upper limit was half a mile. He would prefer to be closer than that
, but he felt confident at that range. Now he just needed to find a place where he could take the shot.

Aaron moved north and then began to turn northwest when he came across what he had hoped to find. It appeared to be an old, three-story hotel. Like all the buildings in Oldtown, the outside was made of white stone
, but the building appeared to have been abandoned a long time ago. There were signs of a fire in the past as well.

He walked past the building and turned down the small alley beside it. The alley was dark but not too dark that he couldn’t see. Aaron moved along the alley and soon came to a side door. It had been locked once upon a time, but it had been kicked in ages ago. The door was hanging on by one hinge. He glanced around once and then stepped through.

The inside of the old hotel was dark and smelled horrible. It had the unmistakable smell of burnt wood and urine. Aaron drew the small Oliver from his shoulder holster, just in case he was invading some squatter’s home.

He moved farther into the structure, looking for the main stairs. It didn’t take long to find them or what remained of them anyway. The stairs had gone up in the fire, as ha
d a good portion of the front center of the building. Aaron stopped and looked up, seeing all the way through to the sky. He paused only momentarily and then moved toward the rear of the building, looking for the rear stairs.

The place was a mess. The fire had gutted most of the center of the building and large portions of the upper floors were gone.

He never found the back stairs, but he found a spot against the back wall that he assumed must have been the kitchen. It was wide open and covered in debris, and the second floor was gone above his head. In the back corner he came across a rope dangling in a tight, metal chute. His best guess was that it had been part of some sort of dumbwaiter system. He tugged hard on the rope and was pleased that it didn’t give. He holstered his gun and began the arduous climb.

It took Aaron a few minutes to reach the second floor
opening. He slid the door open and looked out of the chute. The second floor was gone, having collapsed a long time ago. He closed the doorway and continued climbing.

He quickly reached the third floor and slid its door open. At least the third floor appeared intact. With his mouth suddenly dry, Aaron placed one leg out the door and onto the third floor. He kept a tight hold on the dumbwaiter rope and push
ed hard on the floor. Nothing—it didn’t creak or give the first sign of weakness. He exhaled deeply and slid the second leg out through the opening. He kept a death grip on the rope and jumped up and down three times. The floor held.

Slowly, Aaron let go of the rope and took a
few tentative steps away from the chute. The floor still seemed sturdy. He began searching the third floor, looking for a good vantage point where he could see Hilltop.

He was still looking when he noticed an opening in the ceiling. He jumped up and grabbed
each side of the opening, pulling his head up to get a better view. He was looking into the attic. Intrigued, he pulled himself up the rest of the way and knelt hunched over in the cramped space.

The attic was unfinished
, but it seemed in better condition than the third floor, at least in the back of the building. It took about ten minutes to maneuver his way around to where he thought he should be able to see Hilltop. He put a small hole through the roof and got the most magnificent view of his target.

Smiling, Aaron pulled a small monocular from his pocket and used it to examine Hilltop. It looked like it had two days ago except there was even more security than before.
He scanned the area, looking for any changes from what he had seen that day of the tour.

“This will do nicely,” he said. Immediately, he wished he hadn’t spoken. The building seemed to reverberate with his words and he froze. After a few moments he relaxed again.

He sighed, looking back the way he had come. He still had to go back down that damn rope.

Aaron made it out of the hotel in about thirty minutes and he headed directly away from Hilltop; trying to put as much distance between himself and the security forces as he could. After about a mile, he turned his steps more toward the south and headed for the tube station. He had a plan now and he needed to pick up some supplies.

It took an hour to reach the tube station and then another hour to get back to Marin Aldabia. He had removed the brown robes and returned them to his small sack.

Exiting the tube station, Aaron considered returning to his hotel room first and dropping off the robes but decided against it. He thought it easier to get his supplies and perhaps some dinner, then return to his room early. He wanted a good night’s sleep.

Aaron rose early the next morning and took the tube back to Oldtown. It was still dark when he left the station heading to the old hotel he’d discovered the day before. He wore a half-filled backpack and carried a duffel bag over his right shoulder. He wasn’t looking forward to the next few days, but he felt it gave him the best chance of completing this job.

He walked faster than normal, counting on the darkness to hide his movements.

He reached the burnt-out hotel without incident just as the sun was rising. Once again, he drew the small Oliver handgun and stepped through the side door.

He suspected that someone, or perhaps multiple someones, were living in the old hotel, but, if so, they had already left for the day.

He made his way to the dumbwaiter and climbed back to the third floor. It was slower going than yesterday as he was more weighted down. But he reached the safety of the attic and tossed his supplies down, sighing deeply.

Aaron moved over and looked out the small hole he had made yesterday. Hilltop looked like a mound of ants as people were already scurrying around the grounds.

He looked around the small attic, his plan simple. He would remain in this attic for the next four days. He had enough supplies to get him through and it wouldn’t be the first time a corner of the hotel would be used for a bathroom.

He sighed again, knowing the next four days were going to drag by.