SEPHY RETURNED TO THE APARTMENT convinced she had the group that had been stalking the property under control. The first thing she had thought of doing was contacting them, under some pretext, with the goal of gaining their trust. To do so, she would need to plant some microphones and determine their relationship with the owner of the place, especially so she could fabricate a story that directly involved her.
In reality, however, she didn't know where to place them, since operating in a public place like the hotel had its risks. And she was too restrained in her work to make such a mistake.
Finally, he discarded the idea of microphones. It would be better to use a disguise, to spy on them up close and listen in on their conversation.
She put her thoughts aside and parked the car a hundred meters from where she was going to spend some time with two little devils with restless hormones. Once inside the building, she took the elevator, searching in her bag for the keys Lela had lent her after paying a month's rent in advance. As soon as she found them, the door opened automatically. Then she noticed a vaguely familiar scent, a masculine fragrance she had smelled before somewhere else. For a few seconds, she stood paralyzed, anxiously searching through the vault of her memories.
The elevator doors closed again, the maximum safety time having elapsed, when she placed her hands on the doorframe and they opened again. She stepped out, all five senses heightened. She had a bad feeling.
And when she had an intuition about something as insignificant as a perfume, it was because her life could be in danger.
He inserted the key into the lock, turning it carefully so as not to make any noise. It didn't appear to have been forced. Still, he decided not to let his guard down until he was inside and had inspected every room. He entered silently, slipping through the narrow opening of the barely ajar door, trying to avoid any noise that might betray his presence inside. Seconds later, he slipped stealthily down the hallway.
That scent again.
This time, much stronger than before. It was the favorite perfume of someone she knew very well, she was certain of it. She tried to remember who wore that peculiar fragrance, but her memory refused to tell her.
It was like when you have someone's name on the tip of your tongue and you can't remember it, no matter how hard you try.
Then she saw something that caught her eye, a minor detail that nonetheless confirmed her most dire suspicion: the tile floor had a sheen of undried water, and the air was faintly scented with disinfectant. The hallway floor had been cleaned not long ago, and apparently quite professionally, though it was too much effort for either of those two lazybones.
Such efficiency only made her even more cautious. Something strange was happening inside. Her warning sensors were screaming at her to be careful, because a cleaning like that couldn't bode well. In her job, it was quite common to clean blood trails with ammonia to confuse the forensic scientists as much as possible, and this had every indication of being the result of excellent work.
Without losing his composure, he bent down to pull out a knife he'd hidden inside his boots. He gripped it tightly as he scanned his surroundings, making sure no one could suddenly emerge from any of the rooms. His bedroom was very close to the hallway.
I would be the first to inspect.
He turned the lock on the door and opened it very slowly.
Everything was as she had left it that morning. She crouched down again, this time to make sure no one was under the bed. She went to the closet and took her German automatic pistol from the top drawer, slipping it into the back of her pants after screwing on the silencer.
She went back out into the hallway. She also searched the bathroom, kitchen, and living room, assuring herself that she was alone in the apartment and that it was all a false alarm, caused by an unfounded premonition. The scent of a perfume wasn't as decisive as she'd believed, since the use of a commercial product wasn't private. It could have belonged to a friend of the tenants, who had visited one of them that very morning, after she'd left.
Nevertheless, his sixth sense told him once again to remain alert. Even though there were only two more rooms to search, it was still too early to be confident.
He cautiously entered Lela's room. Someone had completely closed the windows, and he couldn't see anything. He waited a few seconds, until his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Gradually, he seemed to make out the silhouette of the bed in front of the built-in closet, a desk, and an armchair on the other side of the room.
She went to the foot of the bed, sensing an indeterminate shadow beneath the mattress. She didn't need to crouch down. She could see part of the sole of one of her shoes. Then, she felt the fresh scent of that fragrance that had so obsessed her throughout the room. This time, however, it was different.
He remembered the individual who wore that particularly expensive and exclusive perfume: his old friend Altar Leroy, known in the São Paulo assassin circle as The Toronto Strangler, the man in charge of executing professionals who jeopardized the Agency's reliability.
She was about to reach for the pistol she'd hidden between her back and her pants, intending to end her enemy's life right then and there before he could get ahead, when she heard a faint, imperceptible sound behind her. It was more of an acoustic vibration that alerted her survival mechanism. Someone had emerged from the closet, intent on attacking her from behind, unaware that she had the advantage of knowing her attacker's preferred weapon and his lethal modus operandi beforehand.
Wasting no time, she raised the hand holding the machete, reaching just in time for the steel cable that hovered relentlessly around her throat. This caused it to stretch, at maximum tension, but without making contact with her skin. It gave way shortly after, when the sharp blade of the knife finally broke the wire. Then she was free to move. In a split second, Sephy twisted the grip of the weapon, simultaneously delivering a sharp blow backward. The knife plunged into her attacker's stomach, who groaned in surprise as the cold steel touched his flesh. She turned and, looking him in the eye, drew the automatic from behind her pants and placed it against his forehead.
— Sephy...! — the Canadian murmured, as his mouth expelled the first vomit of blood.
— Goodbye, Altar — she replied icily.
The young woman released the safety catch and pulled the trigger.
The sheer amount of organic material that erupted from the back of his head upon impact made more noise than the muffled sound of the pistol. The unfortunate man fell to the ground like a puppet without strings. A thick, bloody liquid oozed from the hole in his skull, forming an ever-growing stain on the floor.
Then Sephy crouched down to see who was hiding under the bed. She dragged the body out until it was completely exposed, discovering that it was Babie, not Lela as she had thought, who had had the misfortune to find herself face to face with Altar. She had been strangled with a steel cable. The blood still lingered around her neck. If she had tightened her grip any further, he would have decapitated her.
— Babie...? — Lela's startled voice came closer down the hallway. — Friend... may I ask why the door is open? —
Sephy immediately jumped to her feet, hiding behind the bedroom door. She didn't even have time to hide the bodies.
Lela entered the room, fumbling for the light switch. Finally, she turned on the light, and what she saw left her stunned. Her mind was unable to grasp the terrifying spectacle unfolding before her eyes. She was about to scream when a hand gripped her forehead, trying to pull her back, lifting her chin. Then she felt her throat being slashed open, and her life escaped through the cut. She choked on her own blood, gasping for air.
Once the swift execution was complete, Sephy went to the bathroom to thoroughly wash his hands and the knife. Then he went to his room, gathered his belongings, and, after locking the door, left the apartment with the terrible feeling that he had, for a few minutes, become one of his victims.
The Agency had decided to eliminate it. From now on, it would have to maximize security measures.
The situation was inconceivable.