One Rough Man - Brad Taylor [83]
“Okay. If you say so. What do we do now?”
“We take the first bus out of here to Belmopan. That’s where the embassy is. I’ve been there a few times.”
The shadows created by the dropping sun told me we weren’t going anywhere today. I looked at my watch. “It’s past seven now, so we’ve probably missed the last bus, but we can check the schedule for tomorrow.”
She didn’t look convinced but followed me out the door. Before I could lock it, Jennifer backed into me, her face ashen.
“The asshole that kidnapped me is in the lobby. He’s talking to the clerk.”
50
The hotel had only six rooms. A simple establishment built around an old colonial house, it had a balcony that extended out past our room and overlooked the front desk, with stairwells coming up left and right to our floor. Looking down I saw a Caucasian and a native discussing something with the clerk. The clerk pointed in our direction, and before I could move, the men were looking right at Jennifer and me. Time froze for a fraction of a second. Jennifer broke it, racing down the hallway toward the access to the roof veranda. The men immediately sprang into action, taking the far stairwell to cut her off.
Shit.
It wasn’t the course of action I would have chosen, but I didn’t bother yelling. Too late for that. Jennifer had committed us, and I had no choice but to follow, although going to the roof was possibly the worst choice. We couldn’t jump off a three-story building.
We raced up the small stairwell and broke out onto the roof. I slammed the door shut and jammed a deck chair up against it. Jennifer kept going to the railing, looking down. I surveyed the area, determining what I had to fight with, which was pretty much nothing. We were on a small ten-foot-by-ten-foot veranda. No weapons, no room to dodge and fight two men.
Jennifer shouted over her shoulder, “You can climb down this, can’t you? You’ve had some type of badass commando training, right?”
I couldn’t believe how stupid that question was.
“Yeah, I can, but I sure as shit can’t do it with you on my back. Get over here in the corner and stay down.”
Jennifer bent down and tore off her sandals, throwing them over the side, followed by the knapsack she was using as a purse. “Don’t worry about me.”
Before I could stop her, she vaulted the balcony and disappeared. I ran over to the railing. Jennifer was already at the second level and scampering down the building like a monkey.
I was about to vault the railing myself when I heard the men hammer the door from the inside. The deck chair gave a foot. There was no way I could make it to the bottom before they reached the rail, and I’d be an easy target. I raced back, stopping on the side of the foot-long crack held in place by the deck chair, waiting on the men to break through.
They hammered the door twice more, finally causing the deck chair to fly off. The first man ran out with his pistol extended in one hand, breaking into the darkness of the deck and silhouetted by the light of the stairwell.
As soon as he was clear of the door, I grabbed the hand holding his pistol and used his own momentum to slingshot him up and over the railing of the deck, letting him fall the forty feet below. Turning, I saw the second man, the Caucasian, coming through the door, pistol at the ready. The sudden darkness from the light of the stairwell gave me an edge, as the man searched the gloom for a target he couldn’t yet see. I kicked out hard and launched his pistol over the railing.
The force of the kick caused me to rotate slightly, getting rid of the immediate threat but exposing me to a counterassault. He wasted no time, giving me a roundhouse kick to my upper thigh that damn near crippled me. I went to a knee, collapsing my arms around my head to protect it. He followed with a snap-kick. My arms absorbed the blow, but it knocked me over. Hitting my back, I saw him close in for