Noah Wolf Box Set 1

by David Archer

  “That was delightful,” Sarah said. “Do you think there’s any chance we’ll still be together when we get old?”

  “That would mean assuming we’ll get old, and I have to say that’s probably not the most likely fate for me. I hope you’ll live a long time, though. And if I manage not to get killed, I wouldn’t mind being with you.”

  Sarah narrowed her eyes at him, but a moment later she chuckled. “You wouldn’t mind? Gee, you make it sound like an unpleasant prospect. Don’t worry, Babe, I know you. That’s probably as close to a compliment as you can manage for me.”

  “Did it not sound like one? I think I meant it to be. Frankly, I could think of many worse fates than being your old Willie.”

  She stopped grinning. “Oh, God, you’re back in character. Is it getting close to that time?”

  “It is, yes. We’ve less than an hour before I should be at the Elizabeth, but I want to make a quick stop on the way, so we’d best be going.” He stood and reached for her chair, sliding it back as she rose from it.

  “Yeah, okay,” Sarah said. “So, what do you think, will it be over today? Do you think you can take him out during this meeting and be done with it?”

  “I actually doubt that,” Noah replied. He led the way to the car and opened her door for her. “If Broussard is wanting to employ Adrian, I’ll need to know for certain that he’s the top of the chain before I kill him. We can’t risk the chance that there is another above him who will only continue. It’s always possible that he’s merely a figurehead, that there is another above him who is willing to sacrifice him as nothing but a pawn. I have to be sure that I’m eliminating the leader, not just one of his underlings.”

  “And you will,” she said as she slid into the driver’s seat. “You will, because you’re the best. They want Adrian because they think he was the best out there, but that’s only because they never even knew about you.”

  Noah got in and Sarah started the engine, then moved smoothly into traffic as Noah directed her to a small store he had found on a Google search. She parked in front and kept the car idling while he went inside, and then headed for the Elizabeth Hotel as soon as he came out and got back into his seat. They were only a few minutes away, so she drove by a circuitous route as Noah took out his phone once again.

  “Catherine, this is Colson,” he said into the phone. “Have there been any developments?”

  “Nothing new or exciting, I’m afraid. I’ve just had a report from my sources not ten minutes past, and other than your lad being a bit less noticeable, not much has changed. Your pigeon is holed up in his room, and no one else has gone in or out. Should I have anyone standing by to back your people up?”

  “No, we’ve got it. If everything goes according to plan, this is just a meeting, with a possibly unhappy ending for the pigeon. All depends on what I learn inside.”

  Catherine Potts was quiet for a moment, but then Noah could hear the smile in her voice. “Mr. Colson,” she said, “I do believe the world is a lot safer with you doing your job. You need to know, though, my cover assignment has been pulled in on something, so it’s possible I might be a bit hard-to-reach. I can still get reports from my people on this, though, so I’ll let you know of anything I hear that might be important.”

  The phone went dead, and Noah blinked once as he put it back into his pocket. He turned to Sarah. “Your turn,” he said. “Tell the boys I’m on the way and to be ready. If I kill Broussard, I may need them to cover me as I make my way out.”

  “Okay,” she said, reaching for her phone. She was about to dial but Noah put his hand over the phone.

  “Wait 'til you drop me off, and then call them. I want to be inside the building before then.”

  Sarah nodded and set the phone on the console between the seats, then switched lanes to get into position for the driveway to the hotel. She whipped into it and stopped smoothly.

  A doorman opened Noah’s door and he stepped out, then leaned back inside. “I’ll see you later, Honey. I’ll call when I need a ride.” He closed the door and turned to go inside as Sarah gave him a finger wave and drove off down the street. She had her phone in her hand before she even left the driveway, and Moose answered as she passed the next building.

  Noah rode the elevator to the third floor and reached into his pocket as it rose. He took out the rubber mask of Donald Trump that he’d bought at the little costume shop and slipped it over his head, then exited the lift and turned right to enter the main hallway. Room 303 was the second door on the left, and he stepped up to it and knocked sharply twice.

  Broussard’s voice came from inside the room. “Yes?”

  “We have an engagement this afternoon, Mr. Sykes.”

  The door opened and Pierre Broussard stood there, his eyes wide at the sight of the mask. Noah stepped forward so quickly that the man took a step back on instinct, and then closed the door behind them.

  “You wanted to speak to me in person, Monsieur Broussard?” Noah asked.

  Broussard stared at the Trump mask for a moment, then swallowed once before speaking.

  “Indeed I do, my friend,” he said. “There is a situation I feel needs to be resolved, and it will take a man of your special talents.” He looked around for a moment as if disoriented and then motioned to a chair. “Would you care to sit while we discuss it?”

  Noah reached out and took Broussard by his arms and shoved him roughly into the chair. The man yelped but didn’t try to fight, and then Noah sat on the edge of the one bed.

  “We are sitting,” he said. “Who is the target?”

  Broussard swallowed again and then smiled. “Someone you would know well, at least academically. My organization would like to have you eliminate a particular actor from the stage of the world, someone so well known that the task is said to be impossible.”

  “There is no impossible target,” Noah said. “There may be some that are not worth the fee, however.”

  “This fee is quite high, I assure you, my friend,” Broussard said, “because there are special conditions. The job must be done in such a way as to make it appear that someone else has done it, and no one can ever learn that it was actually your work. Is that agreeable?”

  “Again, that would depend on the target and the fee. Tell me both, and if I do not leave, we may come to an agreement.”

  Broussard nodded nervously. “Yes, yes, of course,” he said. “The fee will be three million US dollars, my friend, and the target—the target is the future king of England.”

  ELEVEN

  "Which one?" Noah asked. "If you pay attention to the various news sources, you could be talking about either Prince Charles or Prince William. There are consistent rumors that the Queen will bypass her son and abdicate at some point in favor of the Duke of Cambridge."

  Broussard scoffed. "Those reports are ridiculous," he said. "Elizabeth may well disapprove of Charles, but she would not alter the line of succession. Unfortunately, Charles has too many outspoken views that will cause problems for the EU, even after the departure of the UK. Some of those views will make it difficult for certain people to operate in the European Union, and they would prefer to see William take the throne. If there were any validity to the reports you mention, we would not be having this discussion."

  Noah nodded slowly. "I suspected as much, especially considering some of the news sources that were actively promoting such stories. However, when discussing a potential engagement, I want to be absolutely certain as to the identity of my target."

  "Well, then you can rest assured that we are speaking of Charles. Do you have any questions?"

  "I have no specific questions at this time," Noah said. "However, I shall be frank. What you're proposing would be an extremely difficult assignment. I am afraid the fee is not sufficient."

  "Ah," Broussard said. "I see. And what would be more equitable, do you think?"

  "For an assignment of this magnitude? Three million dollars US is not even close. For the removal of an ambass
ador, perhaps, but not for such a task as you propose. Perhaps you should discuss the matter with your superiors and learn whether they are willing to be more realistic on this matter."

  Broussard shook his head. "Not yet," he said. "Tell me what fee you would demand. Perhaps we can reach an agreement today, after all."

  Noah cocked his head to the right and looked at Broussard through the eyeholes in the mask. "Not yet?" he asked. "Did I not tell you that I deal only with the principal? If your superior wishes to engage my services, he should have been here in your place." Noah rose from the bed and started toward the door.

  "No, wait," Broussard called out. "I do not have a superior to call, I am the one you will deal with. However, I answer to a council. They have given me authority to negotiate on their behalf, but if your fee is greater than the limit they have imposed on me, it will be necessary for me to go back to them for approval."

  Noah had reached the door and had his hand on the doorknob, but now he stopped and turned back to face Broussard. "Then you are nothing but a middleman," he said, "and I do not deal with middlemen." He took a step back toward Broussard. "My fee for this assignment would be twenty million dollars USD. This is due not only to the difficulty it will present, but also due to the requirement you have imposed that I must make it appear to have been the work of someone else. Can you authorize that fee?"

  Broussard seemed to sag a bit in his chair. "Not without the approval of the Council," he said. "If you will give me just a few moments, however, I believe they would agree."

  "And so you wish me to simply stand here while you call your masters and ask for their approval?"

  "The call will take only moments, I assure you. This assignment is of such importance that I'm certain they will agree. I do not believe anyone else could accomplish it, nor do they. This is why they specifically wanted to engage you."

  Noah stood stock-still and stared at Broussard for a moment. Suddenly he nodded and went back to sit on the bed once more. "Call them, then," he said. "Make it clear to them that this is my only offer. There is no room for negotiation, and if they do not accept, they need not ever contact me again."

  Broussard nodded vigorously and rose from his chair. He stepped carefully around Noah to the nightstand beside the bed, opened the drawer and withdrew a satellite phone. With his back to Noah, he punched in a number and then turned and faced Noah as he held the phone to his ear. He seemed to be listening to the ringing on the other end of the line for a moment, and then his face snapped to attention as the call was answered.

  "Hello, this is B," he said. "I am with the man we discussed for the special assignment, and he is not comfortable with the fee we had offered." He listened for a moment, and then said, "Yes, he says the fee would be twenty."

  Noah watched Broussard's face for reactions, and saw only a momentary grimace as the person on the other end of the line seemed to be surprised at the figure. The expression passed instantly and was then replaced with a smile.

  "Yes, one moment and I will ask," he said, and then held the phone against his chest as he looked at Noah. "There is a meeting scheduled in three weeks," he said. "Can the assignment be completed before that time?"

  “Three weeks?” Noah asked, putting surprise into his voice. “That is not a lot of time. I normally require at least twice that much time to prepare and execute such an assignment."

  "Nevertheless, it is necessary that the assignment be completed prior to that meeting. Several EU member nations will be gathered to discuss future relations with the United Kingdom, and the impact of this assignment will greatly affect the outcome of that discussion."

  Noah hunched over as if deep in thought and folded his hands together in front of him. He stayed that way for several seconds, and then looked up at Broussard once again.

  “I can accomplish it, if my fee is met,” he said. “However, for something of this magnitude, I must insist on meeting with your council.”

  Broussard’s eyes went wide. “The Council is comprised of individuals whose identities cannot be compromised,” he said. “They have never agreed to a meeting with anyone.”

  Noah shrugged his shoulders. “Then we have nothing more to discuss. I’m certain you realize that my own identity is something I protect very jealously, so there should be no doubt of my intention to protect those of my employers. If you know anything about me whatsoever, you should be aware that no one has ever been charged with the crime of employing me, nor even implicated beyond simple rumor. To accept this assignment, I would insist on meeting with your council, at which time I would receive one half of the fee into an account I will provide. The balance would be payable once the assignment is completed.”

  Broussard looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he put the phone back to his ear. “The contractor will not agree to complete the assignment by that deadline without meeting with the Council. Yes, yes, I explained, but those are his terms.” He listened for a moment, and then his eyes widened once again in surprise. “Very well,” he said, “I shall tell him.”

  Once again he put the phone against his chest and looked at Noah. “The Council will meet with you, but only if it can be done tonight. You and I would meet again here tonight at ten, and will be taken by limousine to the meeting place sometime after that.” He hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “I am afraid your current appearance would not be acceptable to them. The mask, you would not be able to wear it.”

  Noah nodded. “I would expect as much.” He reached up and removed the mask suddenly, and Broussard quickly averted his eyes. “You may relax,” Noah said. “Considering the circumstances of our meeting, I believe I can trust you not to ever reveal any details of my appearance. If I am wrong, of course, you and I will meet again with a much more unfavorable ending to that meeting.”

  Still keeping his eyes on the floor, Broussard nodded. “I understand completely,” he said. “Shall we conclude our meeting for now, then, and resume again tonight as scheduled?”

  Noah nodded, dropping the mask onto the floor. “That will be fine,” he said. “I shall see you then.” He rose from the bed and walked directly out the door, then took out his phone and called Sarah. “I shall be needing a ride,” he said, remaining in character.

  “Be right there,” she replied. Noah hung up the phone and rode the elevator down to the lobby. He stepped out the front door and Sarah drove up only seconds later. Noah slid into the passenger seat and she drove back out onto the street, turning right.

  “Call Neil” Noah said, “and make sure he got a recording of the call Broussard made while I was with him.”

  Sarah nodded and picked up her phone from her lap, dialing the number and putting the phone on speaker. A moment later, Neil answered her call.

  “Joe’s Mortuary, you stab ’em, we slab ’em.”

  “Very funny,” Sarah said. “Did you happen to get the call that was made a few minutes ago?”

  “I sure did,” Neil said. “Boss want to hear the recording?”

  Noah reached over and hit the mute button. “Tell him to get a taxi and bring it over to the Cavendish. We’ll listen to it there.”

  Sarah nodded and unmuted the phone. “Why don’t you guys grab a cab and meet us at our place. Bring your gizmos along and we can check it out there.”

  “You got it, sis,” Neil replied. “Mind if we grab some lunch along the way? Lug nuts didn’t want to take a break until this was over.”

  Noah nodded, so Sarah said, “Okay, that’s fine. We’ll see you in an hour or so.” She ended the call and looked at Noah. “Back to our hotel?”

  “Yes,” Noah said, “but make absolutely certain that no one follows us. I don’t think Broussard would risk it, but let’s not take any chances. Hopefully the guys won’t take too long.”

  “I’ll make sure,” Sarah said, and then she grinned. “As for the guys, it all depends on where they stop for lunch. If they have to go inside to eat, we won’t see them for a couple of hours.” She reached o
ver and took Noah’s hand into her own. “So, how did it go?”

  “Broussard is not the top man,” Noah said. “There is apparently a council of some sort running the organization, and that’s who he answers to. I insisted on meeting with them and it’s set up for tonight. The most important thing I learned is who their target is. They want Adrian to kill Prince Charles of England.”

  Sarah’s eyes bugged out. “Are you serious? Has anyone actually ever tried to assassinate a member of the royal family?”

  “Of course they have,” Noah said. “Royals have been assassinated at different times in the past, and I remember reading once there was even one botched assassination attempt on Queen Elizabeth. Someone stepped out of the crowd and pointed a gun at her, but it was only loaded with blanks. Her security took him down and that was pretty much the end of it. It was just a teenager trying to make a big name for himself, but he spent several years in jail for it.”

  “But they want you to kill Prince Charles,” Sarah said. “Any idea why?”

  “Broussard said it’s because he holds views that are unpopular in the European Union, so I’m assuming there is some concern that his attitude would cause them problems once he becomes King. He’s been rather outspoken about a number of things going on in the world, but my guess would be his opposition to Muslim immigration. He’s made some pretty bold statements about Muslim leaders radicalizing immigrants, and has bluntly told Muslims in the UK that they need to abide by British law and custom, rather than those of their own culture.”

  “But that would only affect England, right?”

  “From the standpoint of Royal influence, yes,” Noah said. “However, and especially after Brexit, it’s likely the EU’s policies that are already getting pretty strict about Muslim immigrants would cause them to rally behind that attitude. They would point to England as setting a standard they should follow. That might cause problems for organizations like IAR that use Islamic extremists as pawns in their own political games.”