Next Exit, Dead Ahead

by CW Browning

  Paul laughed and stopped outside the service elevator. He pressed a button and the doors slid open. As he prepared to get into the elevator, his phone started vibrating. Sighing, he pulled it out of his inside suit pocket.

  “I'm sorry. I have to take this,” he told Damon. “Are you okay on your own?”

  “No problem,” Damon said, getting into the elevator. “Do what you gotta do.”

  “If you need anything, call down to the front desk,” Paul told him. “They'll find me. Anything you need, just let me know.”

  “Will do,” Damon agreed cheerfully as the doors slid closed.

  As soon as the elevator doors were closed, he glanced out of the corner of his eye at the camera in the upper corner of the elevator. Crossing his hands in front of him, Hawk rode the elevator up to the Parkview Suites. At the third floor, the doors slid open and he stepped out of the elevator.

  Hawk glanced around the alcove and moved out into the plush corridor, glancing up and down the deserted hallway. Looking down at his clipboard, he headed for the electrical closet a few feet away. A few seconds later, he disappeared inside, the door closing softly behind him.

  He flipped on the light and looked around. Breaker boxes and neatly tied bunches of multi-colored wires lined the small closet. He set his clipboard down and pulled out his phone, swiping the screen and pulling up the electrical schematics for the floor. After studying them for a minute, Hawk turned and scanned the boxes on the other wall. Finding the one he wanted, he set his phone down and pulled out a flat-headed screwdriver, popping open the box. Working quickly, Hawk separated some wires inside and clamped them off, attaching a small device before tying them back up with the others. He closed the box up again and turned to do the same to another box on the other side of the room. Once he finished, he slid his phone back into his pocket, picked up his clipboard and exited the closet.

  Turning left, he moved down the thickly carpeted hallway, past doors widely spaced apart, until he came to the last suite on the left. Glancing around, he bent over the door briefly and disappeared inside a second later.

  The suite was silent and empty, the air still. Hawk scanned the entryway and the main room, then went over to the window swiftly and glanced out. It overlooked Rittenhouse Park with a stunning view of the autumn colors taking over the park. Turning his head, Damon scanned the large sitting room searchingly. His eyes lit on a modern, geometric sculpture gracing the small display table at the front of the room. He smiled slightly and went over to it, pulling a small, wireless camera from a compartment on his tool belt. He slid the camera into one of the many crevices and turned the sculpture slightly so the angle would capture the entire room. Once he was satisfied, Hawk moved back to the door, slipping out of the suite as silently as he had entered.

  He went back to the electrical closet and flipped open one of the breaker boxes. Removing one of the breakers, he pulled out a probe and slid it into the opening. He attached it to a wire and pulled a small box from his tool belt. Inserting the wire, he pressed a button. A light glowed green and he smiled. Removing the probe, he replaced the breaker and closed the box, turning to leave the closet. As he walked back to the service elevator, Damon heard a distant groan as the air conditioner switched on in the wing to the left.

  Ten minutes later, Hawk sat at the wheel of his borrowed white electrical van in the parking garage, opening up a small laptop and checking the camera in the Parkview Suite. He smiled. It was working perfectly. He opened up another program, typing rapidly. A moment later, the security cameras in the employees' hall, service elevator and the corridor leading to Moon's suite came online. He had full control over them. Hawk nodded in satisfaction and closed the laptop. It had been an hour well spent.

  He pulled out of his parking spot and drove through the underground parking garage, turning to go up the ramp to the exit. He was just pulling out of the exit when a Ducati flew around a car in traffic and pulled right in front of him. Damon slammed on the brakes, jerking the van to a stop inches from the bike.

  The rider wore full gear, from black motorcycle pants to a red jacket to a red and black helmet. He looked at Hawk from behind a full, black-tinted visor and Hawk glared back. After staring at each other for a beat, the motorcycle pulled forward into traffic, weaving its way down the block.

  Hawk shook his head and pulled out into the traffic, driving away from the hotel. Two blocks up, he passed the Ducati. It was pulled to the side of the road and the rider was getting off. Damon shook his head again and rolled through the green light. Some people should never be allowed on a bike.

  Viper watched the white electrical van continue down the road with narrow eyes. When she pulled into the narrow spot in traffic, she hadn't been expecting to almost get hit by a van pulling out of the underground garage. She most definitely hadn't expected Hawk to be driving that van. Alina's lips twitched. She was so surprised to see him, she just stared at him, thankful for the black-tinted helmet concealing her face. The slight smile disappeared from her lips as she watched the van turn the corner on the next block.

  What the hell was he doing?

  Viper turned away from the bike and crossed the narrow sidewalk to the store in front of her, setting Hawk out of her mind. She pulled off her helmet as she entered, shaking out her hair and looking around. The store combined a mini-mart and delivery service. Heading to the counter at the back, she tucked her helmet under arm and grabbed a Slim Jim off a display rack on the way.

  “I'm from Speedy,” she told the woman behind the counter. “You called for an extra courier.”

  “It's about time you got here,” the frazzled woman told her. “You're late.”

  Alina shrugged.

  “So sue me,” she retorted. “Some asshole just almost hit me, flying out of a parking garage. There's never a cop around when you need one.”

  “Oh, I hear that,” the woman said, turning to reach down under the counter. “It's getting worse every day. Yesterday, one of my regular delivery girls broke her arm when a cab flew around the corner and clipped her as she stepped off the curb. No cop around then, either.” The woman straightened up with a huge, cellophane-wrapped wine and cheese basket in her hands. “Luckily, a guy standing on the sidewalk got the cab number.”

  “Well, that's good. She's lucky she just broken her arm,” Alina said, eyeing the basket. “Is that what I'm delivering?”

  “Yeah. Here, I'll put it in a box for you,” she said. “Will it fit on the back of your bike?”

  “Yeah. I have a rack.” Alina watched as the woman lifted the basket into a box and tied it up with string. “Where's it going?”

  “Rittenhouse Hotel. The woman was very clear. She wants it delivered to one of the Park Suites. Name is...Moon,” the woman said, checking her computer screen. “She said to make sure they place it directly on the coffee table in the suite sitting room.”

  “Not the bedroom?” Alina asked dryly with a grin.

  The woman grinned back.

  “Supposedly this Moon guy is picky,” she told her. “He likes things to be perfect.”

  “Well, I guess if you're paying three grand a night for a room, you can afford to be picky,” Alina said. She held up the Slim Jim. “How much for this?”

  “Honey, you came all the way across town to help me out in a jam,” the woman told her, shaking her head. “Consider it a tip.”

  “Thanks!”

  Alina put her helmet back on and grabbed the box, turning to leave. After securing the package on the rack at the back of the bike, she got on and pulled into traffic. She rounded the corner and drove down a block before pulling off to the side. Leaving the engine running, Alina twisted in the seat and swiftly undid the string and opened the box. Reaching inside her jacket, she pulled out a minuscule wireless camera. She pressed the button to turn it on and examined the cellophane wrapping. Pulling her knife from her boot, she cut a slit into one of the folds and reached in, attaching the camera to some of the fake moss in the center o
f the basket.

  Viper slid her knife back into her boot, replaced the lid to the box and retied the string.

  A few seconds later, she pulled back into traffic and turned down the next block, heading back towards Rittenhouse Hotel.

  Stephanie looked up as Blake came outside, sliding his sunglasses onto his nose and squinting against the late afternoon sun. He spotted her, leaning against her car, and ambled over.

  “Matt thinks he found the accounts the money came out of,” he told her, leaning next to her.

  “Great! Now we just have to find where it went,” Stephanie replied.

  “Well, the good news is that Matt and his team of Super Geeks are confident they can back-track the money trail if we can get him the virus,” Blake said, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “The only way we can do that is to find Kwan,” Stephanie said tiredly. “Given the amount of interest he seems to be garnering, I'm starting to think even if we find him, we won't get the virus.”

  “Why do you say that?” Blake asked, glancing at her.

  Stephanie shook her head.

  “This whole investigation has been one big nightmare,” she murmured. “I can't shake the feeling I've been manipulated through the whole thing.”

  “Explain.”

  “I can't,” Stephanie said with a sigh. “Not without sounding like a crazy conspiracy theorist.”

  “Oh, trust me, you can't possibly say anything as crazy as what went on in Washington two months ago,” Blake informed her and Stephanie grinned reluctantly. “Come on. Spill it.”

  “Everyone who tries to find any information on Lowell Kwan runs head-first into the CIA,” she said quietly, “everyone except me. Aside from one rather heated discussion between them and Rob, I'm the only one who has been allowed to pursue Kwan. It's like it was all planned out to come down to this.”

  “You think the CIA wants the virus?” Blake asked, trying to follow her train of thought.

  “Wouldn't you?” she replied. “If it does what Matt says it does, it's a world economic crisis waiting to happen.”

  Blake nodded and stared across the parking lot thoughtfully.

  “Let's say the CIA wants the virus,” he said slowly. “Let's say they knew Lowell Kwan was here and hacking into mainframes. If they knew that, then they also know who he's going to sell it to.”

  “Moon.”

  Blake nodded.

  “If that's the case, though, why involve the FBI at all?” Blake asked. “They could get the virus from Kwan at any time.”

  “Not really,” she said. “He had it in play in the mainframe, and there were three of them who had to insert it and extract it. They would have to wait until they were finished.”

  Blake shook his head.

  “So you think they manipulated this whole investigation from the beginning so you would lead them to the virus before it got to Moon,” he mused. “That's pretty out there, Steph.”

  “I know.”

  “But not anymore out there than them trying to kill their own agent,” Blake said, looking at her. “If this is all true, then I can see why you don't think you'll ever get your hands on the virus.”

  Stephanie nodded glumly.

  “The best I think I can hope for is that we can get Kwan and convince him to tell us where the money went,” she said.

  “You find Kwan, and I'll convince him to talk,” Blake told her.

  Stephanie grinned.

  “I believe you,” she said. “What about you? Any word on Turi yet?”

  Blake smiled down at her.

  “That's where I was going when I came out here,” he said. “I got hold of an old photo of him and John faxed it to all the hospitals. He just got a call back from Virtua in Mt. Holly. Turi was admitted early this morning with a severe stab wound and concussion.”

  Stephanie grinned.

  “Well, don't let me hold you up any longer,” she said and waved him away.

  Blake laughed and turned to walk toward his truck. He went a few steps, then turned back.

  “Don't go having any fun without me,” he told her with a smile. “If you find Kwan, I want in on it. I feel invested now.”

  Stephanie laughed.

  “I'll let you know,” she promised.

  Viper sipped her bottled water and glanced at the large, flat-screen TV hanging on the wall. The camera she inserted into the wine and cheese basket was transmitting clearly from the Park Suite six floors below her. She watched as one of Moon's bodyguards crossed the large sitting room to go into the adjoining dining room. His tailored black suit did nothing to conceal the bulging muscles beneath and Viper thought he looked like a casino pit boss. His two counterparts looked just as silly to her and she shook her head, returning her attention to the back-up Glock she had apart on the table before her. She picked up a small brush and inserted it into the barrel, gently cleaning it.

  She checked into the Rittenhouse late in the afternoon, taking a deluxe room on the ninth floor overlooking the park. The view was outstanding, but after one glance when she arrived, Viper hadn't paid it any more attention. She set up her laptop, hooking it into the flat-screen TV, and then wandered down to the lobby. Viper had been in the lobby when Jin Seung Moon arrived at five-thirty precisely.

  He had arrived with his entourage, striding into the lobby wearing a tailored charcoal suit and carrying a briefcase. The speed with which he checked-in was noteworthy, and Alina had watched surreptitiously as his bodyguards ushered him into an elevator moments after his arrival.

  Viper set the little brush down and peered into the barrel briefly before setting it down with the rest of the gun. Her lips tightened slightly. She had been turning toward the elevators herself when a tall man with a dark, shaggy beard entered the lobby carrying a black guitar case. He was dressed in black slacks and a blue button-down shirt. The shirt had been what caught her eye. It made his eyes glow an unusual shade of cobalt.

  Alina had watched from behind a potted fern as he ambled up to the desk. He spoke briefly to one of the women and she motioned him toward the bar. He smiled, nodded in thanks, and turned to stroll toward the bar, just another musician showing up early for a gig. He had passed right by her on his way.

  Frowning, Viper started to reassemble the 9mm handgun. Hawk hadn't even glanced in her direction before he disappeared into the bar. He had no idea she was here. That would normally give her an advantage, but not with Hawk. They were too evenly matched. His presence here simply put her on her guard, nothing more.

  Knowing why he was here infuriated her.

  Alina took a deep breath when she realized her hands were shaking slightly. She slid the chamber in place, willing the familiar task to soothe her. There could be absolutely no doubt about why Hawk was in the hotel. Her lips tightened and her eyes narrowed. He had no more come back to Jersey for her then she was Mary Poppins. He had played her, plain and simple.

  Worse, she had fallen for it.

  Viper let out a sound suspiciously like a hiss and finished putting her gun back together swiftly. She tucked it into her leg holster and got up impatiently, taking a turn around the spacious hotel room. She didn't see the luxury around her, but instead saw a pair of tired blue eyes as they had looked the night Damon showed up. She recognized that look around his eyes at the time, but had ignored it. It was the look of the hunt. She had seen it enough times in her own mirror to recognize it, but Alina had chalked it up to jet lag, choosing not to see the truth that was there from the beginning.

  “Gah!”

  Alina spun around and stalked over to the bed, reaching down to pull out her rolling suitcase from underneath. She swung it onto the bed and it bounced twice with the force behind her arm. Unzipping it, she pulled out the clothes folded neatly into the case and lifted the false bottom to reveal a specially-lined compartment. Nestled in the custom-fit, foam slots were the pieces of her rifle. Viper pulled out the sections and carried them over to the table, setting them down so she could go over them
and make sure they were spotless. She would worry about what an idiot she had been later, after it was over.

  Movement on the TV made her glance over and Viper watched as the guards went over to the door. She paused, her eyes narrowing as Moon came out of the bedroom, still dressed in his charcoal suit, and waited in the living room with his eyes on the door. Frowning, Viper glanced at her watch and shook her head. It was too early for Kwan to have arrived. He would wait until after dark to give himself more protection from watchful eyes. She returned her gaze to the screen, her hands and breath still. When the door opened, she breathed a small sigh.

  Moon was having an early dinner in his suite. Viper watched as the room service table rolled into the dining room, followed by two waiters. She scanned their faces and dismissed them, turning back to her rifle.

  She had plenty of time.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Stephanie rubbed her eyes and glanced at her watch. It was almost five-thirty and Matt and his team were still working on the mainframe at One District Bank while they conferenced in Scott's team over at New Federal, walking them through how to find the accounts that were missing funds. Blake was still interrogating Turi. She seemed to be the only one not actively doing anything.

  “You should eat,” John said, digging lo mein out of his Chinese carton with chopsticks. “Staring at the clock isn't going to help.”

  Stephanie sighed and picked up her chopsticks and shrimp, sitting back in her chair and propping her feet on her desk.

  “Have you heard from Blake yet?” she asked.

  “Not since you asked me five minutes ago,” John retorted around a mouthful of food.

  Stephanie toyed with her shrimp and rice absently while John watched her.

  “I hate waiting,” she muttered.

  “Any word from the agents with the Nuñez family?” John asked.

  “They checked in an hour ago. Everything is quiet over there,” she told him.

  “Good. That's one less thing to worry about,” he said.