Page 6 of Talk to Me

Downstairs, I brought my machines up. I was already tracking his call and I transferred the connection to my main box and slid my headphones on.

“You still with me, luv?”

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” I told him. My fingers flew over the keyboard. Every second counted. He was somewhere in Poland.

I was zeroing in to his signal and looking for street cameras even as I pulled up a map.

Fresh gunfire filled the line. “Bloody hell,” he muttered. “Hold on.” Then the phone sounded muffled like he’d pressed it against something. The gunfire was much closer this time. He returned fire and the report was a lot louder.

“Someone has a bigger gun,” I said and got a throaty chuckle in response. I had him on screen. He cut a good-looking silhouette from black cap hiding his bald head to his smooth leather coat. He blended with the shadows, but he wasn’t exactly one of them. “Let’s go big boy, head east—half a kilometer down the alley on the other side of that ancient Ford.”

“Moving.”

“Three o’clock!” I warned. He pivoted, sighted, and fired before the other man got his gun up. I focused on the fallen assailant for a split second. Guilt added another thread to the noose around my neck.

That man was dead. I was complicit. I compartmentalized it and locked it away. I’d feel worse about it later. Right now, I had to get Remington out of there.

Tracking ahead and behind him, I mapped a dozen different ways. But he had a whole squad after him. Whoever the target had been, he pissed off a lot of people.

“Ten more steps then go left again.”

He didn’t hesitate, cutting down the side passage that couldn’t be more than a couple of feet across. He had to angle himself to keep going but he vanished before some of the pursuers reached the mouth of the alley.

“Next right. You need to move faster. They are splitting up.”

Two had gone down the narrow passageway I’d directed him to.

“I thought you liked it when I was slow and deliberate.” The faintness of his panting breaths belied the tease.

“I like it hard and fast too,” I said. “Left again. Then another sharp right. Zig zag.”

“Fuck,” he swore. But he didn’t stop moving. “Are you sending me to the crypts?”

“Close.” There were catacombs in Krakow and other cities. “This one isn’t a tourist hot spot though and it’s been closed for a while. Be careful when you get to the entrance.”

“I knew you cared,” he said with a chuckle.

“Stop. Silent running.”

He froze on my screen. Two of the pursuers passed so close to the opening he was tucked into they could have probably touched him if they’d reached inside. But the slant of the brick wall gave it an illusion like the buildings were actually touching more than they were.

“Ten count, then move. Directly across the street. Down the stairs.”

He didn’t respond verbally but at the ten mark, he slipped across the street. The assailants were moving away from him. Their search was a grid pattern. He’d lost his passageway pursuers. It was a virtual maze through those old buildings.

I did another sweep as he descended the steps.

“At the bottom, travel directly ahead. There’s an old gate over the door. You’ll need to open both to get inside.”

The shadows around the entrance hid him from view. Police dispatches had them closing in on the area and in pursuit of suspects. I offered a quick tip into their system where some of them were.

The more attention they took off Remy, the better. A faint tapping got my attention. Morse code.

Oh…

“Yes, it’s clear to talk, just keep it low. No one should be close enough to hear you.”

“This is a church, luv. You sending me to hell?”

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