Donovans 02 - Jade Island

“What I meant was, I’d like to take you to dinner. We could put our heads together and see if we come up with a way out of this mess.”
    “That’s very kind, but your way out is simple. Drive away and stay away.”
    “And leave you alone?”
    “I’m used to it.”
    “But—”
    “No. You’ve helped me more than enough. Now help yourself. Get out before your reputation is as ruined as mine.”
    “Screw my—”
    “Good-bye, Kyle,” she said, talking over him and the siren that was wailing closer to Pioneer Square with every second. “And thank you. Nobody else cared.”
    The weathered door shut hard behind Lianne. It locked automatically.
    Kyle fought an impulse to kick the door off its hinges.
    Then he heard Lianne scream.

Chapter 18
    T he heel of Kyle’s foot crashed into the door before his mind even registered what he was doing. It took four solid kicks to make the wood splinter away from the old lock. He shoved through the door, ignoring the sound of yelling that came from behind him. All he cared about was the chilling silence that had followed Lianne’s single scream.
    The switch from sunlight to gloom forced him to stop inside the doorway for an instant. It was long enough for him to see two shadows struggling in the hallway. There were pants and grunts and the scrape of shoes on the floor, a hissed word in Chinese as a heel connected with flesh.
    A knife shone in the dim light.
    Lunging forward, Kyle grabbed the attacker’s hair in one hand and the fingers holding the knife in the other. Spinning the wiry Asian man away from Lianne, Kyle slammed the attacker face-first into the brick-lined hall. An instant before his nose hit the wall, the man kicked backward, trying to break Kyle’s knee.
    At the last second Kyle turned to take the karate kick on his thigh instead of his knee. The movement threw him off-balance, preventing him from breaking the attacker’s wrist on the first try. Kyle yanked the Asian’s knife hand up between his shoulder blades and slammed him headfirst against the wall again. This time the man’s wrist broke and the knife fell to the floor.
    Despite being disarmed, the assailant was far from harmless. Or beaten. He fought back in every way he could, twisting and kicking in unexpected directions, yelling in Chinese.
    For Kyle, it was like wrestling with a basket of muscular steel snakes. Ducking heels and elbows every inch of the way, he hung on grimly and body-slammed the Asian into the hallway wall hard enough to echo.
    “Give it up, asshole,” Kyle panted, launching him into the wall one more time. Hard. “I don’t want to kill you, but you’re pissing me off.”
    The Asian twisted sharply. Blood made Kyle’s hands slippery. The attacker managed to get his good wrist free. The edge of his hand started toward Kyle’s throat with blurring speed.
    Lianne lashed out in a high kick that smashed into the man’s forearm, knocking it off target. An instant later the edge of Kyle’s hand thudded against the attacker’s neck. He was unconscious before he hit the floor.
    Kyle let him land like a sack of wet cement, kicked the knife out of reach, and watched the man like the deadly little snake he was. The Asian didn’t move.
    “Nice kick,” Kyle said, breathing hard, watching the wiry man. “You okay?”
    Lianne was fighting for breath, too. “Yes. I guess.”
    “First the kitchen knives and now karate. Hell of a combination. Thank God I haven’t pissed you off yet.”
    She laughed a little wildly. “Same goes for you.”
    “I’m big, sweetheart, but that son of a bitch is a lot better than I am in the clinch.” Kyle let out a long breath and rubbed his thigh where he had been kicked. “Hope I didn’t kill him. I tried to pull my punch, but I was getting tired of wrestling.”
    “I hope you didn’t kill him, too,” a voice said from the doorway. “The paperwork is a bitch kitty.”
    Kyle and Lianne both spun around, adrenaline pumping, ready to fight again if they had to. A man in a dark suitstood silhouetted against the doorway. His hands were empty.
    “You drive a tan Ford?” Kyle asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Then you have a radio. Why don’t you do something useful for a change? Call the cops.”
    “I am one.”
    “You’re a Fed. We need a city uniform.”
    “I’ll call a medic while I’m at it.”
    “Yeah, I suppose the little shit needs one,” Kyle said.
    “I was thinking of you.”
    Kyle looked down at his right arm where the knife had