State of Siege - Tom Clancy [80]
Ty had a compact 9mm Browning High Power handgun in her purse. Hang had one in a holster hooked to the back of his belt. The weapons had been smuggled past UN security in diplomatic pouches. Between the two of them, they'd get the bastard in a cross fire and then take down the rest of the terrorists. Not only would they have their revenge, not only would they be seen as heroes for rescuing the hostages, but their cause-a strong, right-wing Cambodia under Son Sannwd acquire worldwide attention. Injustice would end. The Khmer Rouge would finally be hunted down and de stroyed. Cambodia would be free to become an Asian political and financial power.
But all of that depended on what happened next. Ty was sorry she'd let Georgiev go, but she hadn't expected him to leave. And she didn't want to fire on her own without identifying him to Hang, in case the other terrorists managed to bring her down. Ty opened her purse and removed a silk handkerchief. She left her purse open on the floor as she dabbed the forehead of the wounded girl. The butt of the Browning was pointing toward her. When she replaced the handkerchief, she took the opportunity to unlock the safety. She was getting anxious. She hoped the miserable creature didn't negotiate a deal with Secretary-General Chatterjee. Ty grew quietly furious with herself for not having taken him out when she had the chance. He had been standing right next to her. She might have died, but she would have died knowing how proud Hang and the spirits of his family were of her.
Suddenly, one of the double doors flew open at the top of the stairs on the opposite side of the chamber. The terrorist who had been standing behind it jumped to the side as Georgiev stormed back in. The Bulgarian was holding the lower part of his mask. He slammed the door shut, drew his pistol, and shook it angrily at the door. Then he turned and stalked past his associate. When the other man tried to follow, Georgiev motioned for him to remain where he was. Then he half-walked, halfstumbled down the stairs. He seemed a little groggy, as though he'd been struck. He did not look happy. That was good. According to the doctrine of the elders in the Theravada Buddhist faith, a man who died un happy remained so in the next life. Ty felt that Georgiev deserved no less.
The Bulgarian was holding his gun. He stopped midway down the stairs and rubbed his chin. He seemed to waver. The man at the top of the steps came toward him. So did one of the men at the bottom of the steps.
Damn, Ty thought. It had to be now. Soon there would be three of them in one place; she might not have a clear shot. She looked at Hang. He was obviously thinking the same thing. She reached into her purse as Hang rose. He drew his weapon from the holster and turned toward his target. Ty slipped her own handgun free and followed his lead. Hang fired first, putting three shots into Georgiev before the others arrived. One bullet missed, but two red blotches popped from his forehead, and the Bulgarian was flung backfirst against the wall. He slid straight to the ground, dragging three long red smears down the green and gold wallpaper. The couple began running foward, seeking cover on the stairwell. The two other men on the stairs stopped, ducked behind the chairs, and swung their guns toward the shootists. The two terrorists on the other side of the chamber also ducked and aimed at the attackers. As they did, the door that led to the Trusteeship Council chamber opened. Four members of the United Nations security force rushed in. There was a heart-stopping moment when the only sounds were the sobbing