Last Chance to Die

by Noah Boyd

  “What is it that you think I can do? I didn’t go to an Ivy League school.”

  “I don’t know, maybe I’m on tilt with this. Maybe I’m trying too hard to show the world how smart I am or, more likely, what a moron my supervisor is. I don’t know. You were always good at finding things no one else could. Maybe take a look at the file. See if I’m missing anything.”

  “Right now my days are pretty full.”

  Bursaw gave him an easy grin. “How are your nights?”

  “With everything I’ve got going on, I would have to be a blithering idiot to say yes.”

  Bursaw drained his beer. “Then let’s go take a look at the file.”

  It was a little after nine when Kate got to the off-site the next morning. She was surprised when she heard the shower going. Evidently Vail had slept in. She made a pot of coffee and, when it was ready, poured herself a cup. In the observation room, she started reviewing the information Vail had pinned to the wall. A few minutes later, he walked out of the kitchen and held up his cup. “Thanks.”

  “You and Luke reminiscing over too many beers last night?”

  “Actually we were at WFO until about four A.M. reviewing the case file on his missing analyst.”

  “I thought you didn’t like this work.”

  “I like the work just fine. In fact, it’s the reason I dislike the people who keep getting in the way of it.”

  “That sounds more like a rationalization than a defense, Vail.”

  “Of all the times Luke helped me in Detroit—and some of them were pretty touch and go—the guy never once asked me for a favor. Until last night.”

  “Sorry. It’s just that I would have thought you had enough to do.”

  “I guess that’s when you find out if someone is truly worth your friendship.”

  “Were you able to help him?”

  “I gave him a few suggestions. I’m not sure he needed them. He’s not the guy I’d want after me,” Vail said. “You ready to watch that disc? Or did you peek last night, Katie?”

  “No.” She took it out of her briefcase. “But I was a little surprised you trusted me with it.”

  “It wasn’t me trusting you that was the problem—it was me trusting me if I held on to it.”

  She laughed cynically. “Oh, honesty. Is that your latest tactic to deceive me?”

  “I figured if anything would keep you off balance, it would be telling the truth. Apparently that’s not going to work either.”

  She set the disc in the DVD player. On the monitor screen, they recognized the meeting room at the Denton safe house. It was followed by a couple of seconds of static and then by someone holding a hand-printed sign in front of the camera. On it were written the date, the time, and the name Charles Dennis Pollock. “That should eliminate any guesswork about who’s starring in this little production.”

  Another few seconds of static were followed by two men sitting in the room. Pollock, recognizable from his security-background photo, was unknowingly facing the camera. He opened a briefcase that was on the floor next to him and handed a sheaf of papers to the other man. In turn, the man, who carefully never let any of his face be exposed, handed Pollock three bundles of bills and then in heavily accented English demanded, more than requested, that it be counted. While Pollock obliged, the handler deliberately held up the documents he had received and slowly paged through them so they could be captured on video. Several had CLASSIFIED stamped across them. Pollock then placed the money in his briefcase. A brief discussion ensued about what other material Pollock could provide. The screen again went to static. Vail fast-forwarded it until the end. There was nothing else on it.

  “That’s it? What about the golden thread or whatever you call it?”

  “The golden cord,” Vail said. “I don’t know.”

  “Maybe Calculus was just screwing with us and wrote ‘Ariadne’ on the envelope to frustrate us so we’d be willing to pay more.”

  “That’s a possibility. Spies do love mind games. Maybe Pollock somehow has the answer to whoever’s next. There’s only one way to find out.”

  “You want to arrest him?”

  “That does seem to be the next logical step now that we have irrefutable evidence that he’s a spy.”

  “Then I’ve got to let Bill Langston know.”

  “Come on, Kate. You know that finding the next name is going to be tough enough without going through the system.”

  “Even you can’t arrest someone for espionage without somebody somewhere authorizing it. There’s no other way but the system. Finding out who Pollock is and that he’s a spy has brought us back into the aboveground world of rules and—God forbid—the law.”

  It was moments like this that reminded Vail he’d been correct in choosing a life in which he answered to no one. And since Kate had told him that a relationship with her was no longer possible—everything else being equal—he would have gone off on his own and done whatever he needed to do to resolve the situation with this man who had committed treason. But the only reason, or at least the deciding one, he’d taken this assignment was to help Kate regain her reputation. “How about if we just interview Pollock? If he doesn’t cooperate, I’ll call Langston for authorization. But first I want a chance to find out if he has the key to the next name before he disappears into a bureaucratic maze that in all likelihood will shut this down. With Calculus gone, it looks like he’s our only shot.”

  “What are you going to do if he does cooperate, leave him out there?”

  “If he’s cooperative, we’ll ask him to take a ride and hand-deliver him to Langston so he can take all the bows. That’ll keep him happy, and hopefully we’ll have the next clue.”

  “So either way, by the end of the day Langston will be notified.”

  “If that’s what you want, absolutely.”

  “I really hate it when you start a promise with ‘if.’ ” She studied his face briefly for signs of deception. As usual there were none. “Okay, but I’m driving. That way I can abandon you at the first sign of trouble.”

  Vail laughed. “That off-ramp was three or four exits ago.”

  7

  Kate found a parking space near the main entrance of Alliant Industries in Calverton, Virginia, Pollock’s employer. Vail opened the folder containing the information they’d printed from Pollock’s security investigation and dialed the work number, holding the phone so Kate could hear. “Charles Pollock, please.”

  “I’m sorry, he’s not in today.”

  Vail looked at Kate apprehensively. “This is Hank Bass, I’m a friend of his. Could you tell him I called?”

  “Certainly, sir.”

  “Wait a minute, I’ve got his home number. Will I be able to reach him there?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Bass, I’m not sure.”

  “Don’t bother with the message. I’ll track him down.” Vail thanked her and hung up.

  “That can’t be good. It sounds like he didn’t call in. Maybe we should get some help and put on a full-court press.”

  “Normally I’d say that made sense, but don’t forget, if we’re right about Calculus giving everyone up, the Russians could be moving Pollock out of here right now. Proper channels would slow us down and ensure his getting away. Let’s try his house. Maybe he’s just taking a day off.”

  Kate stared past him for a few seconds. “God help me, I think I may need some sort of therapy, because that actually makes sense to me.”

  Charles Pollock’s house was surprisingly large but in a state of advanced disrepair. It was a half-timbered Tudor and in need of a fresh coat of paint. A front gutter hung by one end, angling across the first-floor windows. The second-floor stucco had some deep cracks in it and was chipping off. Weeds were over a foot high and frozen upright in the lawn. As the two agents pulled in to the driveway, there was a stillness that made Vail wary.

  He got to the door first and unbuttoned his topcoat, hitting the thumb release on his holster. Gently he pushed Kate behind
him. He knocked loudly. After a few seconds, he put his ear against the door and listened. “Can you check for his car?”

  Kate went over to the attached garage and peered into the window. “Empty.” Vail watched her as he continued to listen for movement inside. She cupped her hand over her eyes to cut the sun’s glare and searched the garage’s interior. “The inside house door is open. As cold as it is outside, that can’t be intentional.”

  Vail walked over and pulled up the overhead door, drawing his Glock. Kate slipped hers out of the holster in response. They walked into the garage, and he pushed the door leading into the house completely open.

  Once in the kitchen, they listened for anyone moving around. “Hello!” Vail yelled. When there was no response, he nodded toward the doorway leading to the rest of the house, and without another word he and Kate swept from room to room, covering each other. “Okay, do you want the upstairs or the basement?” he asked.

  “Basement.”

  They split up, each heading for a different set of stairs. Five minutes later they were both back to the kitchen, their handguns reholstered. “Do you think he’s onto us?” Kate asked.

  “Could be, if Calculus is talking. The Russians would most likely warn him then. Or he could just be at the grocery store. We’d better pull back and sit on it until we figure out which.”

  Kate found a spot almost a block away and parked. She went to the trunk and came back with a pair of binoculars, handing them to Vail. “Pretty high-tech for us, isn’t it?” he said.

  “I figured it was time to move our little adventures forward into the seventeenth century.”

  Vail looked at Pollock’s house through them. “Nice.” Still holding them to his eyes, he turned and scanned Kate up and down. “Very nice.” She hit the front of the binoculars, causing them to bang into Vail’s eyes. “Ow!”

  “I thought you bricklayers were a tough bunch.”

  “Not us blind bricklayers.”

  “What are we going to do if Pollock doesn’t come home?”

  Vail picked up the pages from the suspected spy’s file and leafed through them. “There’s a cell-phone number here.”

  “You want me to call it?”

  “I’m not sure how much good that will do us, since we won’t know where he’s at.”

  Kate thought for a second. “You want me to have it pinged?”

  “As a deputy assistant director, you should be able to get something like that done pretty easily. I mean, there’s got to be some advantage to having you along.”

  “You’d be surprised how there’s absolutely no advantage to working with certain highly rated people.” She jerked the sheet of paper out of his hand and dialed her cell phone.

  It was late in the afternoon before Kate got a callback. She made some notes and hung up. “He had the phone turned off until about an hour ago.” She started the car and handed Vail her notes. “Just west of McLean. Those are the coordinates. If you’ve recovered your eyesight, please punch them into the GPS.”

  Daylight was fading as Kate pulled over. “Do you think that’s it?”

  Vail glanced at the dashboard locator. “It’s the only building within a half mile.”

  They were looking at an ancient ten-story brick building. Kate was on her phone again, calling the McLean police to find out what the structure was. After waiting for a while, she made some more notes and hung up. “It’s some sort of historical building that housed World War One wounded soldiers who were brought back here to recuperate. After the war it was turned into a government warehouse. Because its heating and electrical were so out of date and rehabbing it would have been too expensive, they were going to tear it down. But then the historical people got involved. They started filing injunctions, and it’s been going back and forth for longer than anyone can remember.”

  “Why would Pollock be in there? It doesn’t make any sense,” Vail said.

  “Maybe he was just parked here when he made the call.”

  “Why don’t you see if there’ve been any calls since the first one.”

  Kate called headquarters again and, after being on hold for a couple of minutes, hung up. “Nothing. They’re going to check it every fifteen minutes and let us know if there’s a change.”

  When they hadn’t heard anything an hour later, Vail opened the car door and said, “I’ll be right back.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To see if there’s a way into that place.”

  “You think he could actually be in there?”

  “If there’s no way in, then we’ll know he’s not. At least we won’t have to sit here the rest of the night.”

  Kate said, “I’m going to call his house and see if I get an answer.”

  Ten minutes later Vail got back into the car. “I take it he’s not at home.”

  “No answer.”

  “I found a way in.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Could have been just kids breaking in. Hard to tell.” He picked up the binoculars and used them to explore the building’s windows. After a few minutes, he said, “There! On the fifth floor. Did you see it? A light, and then it disappeared.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. Let’s go.”

  Taking a flashlight, Vail led the way around the back of the building to a door that had been carefully jimmied open and then closed, giving the appearance that it was still secure. He pushed his fingers into the narrow crack on one side of the door and pulled on the edge until he worked it free. They both stepped inside. Vail stopped and listened. He snapped on the flashlight. “I think the stairway is straight ahead.”

  Kate followed him in the semidarkness, occasionally stepping on something soft that she hoped were articles of abandoned clothing. Then they started climbing the stairs.

  At each landing Vail stopped and listened, every so often turning to look at her. “You okay?” he whispered with uncharacteristic concern.

  “Yeah, fine. You?”

  He smiled. “I’m okay.”

  When they reached the landing between the third and fourth floors, he stood motionless for a good five minutes. Kate could see that Vail sensed there was going to be trouble—and it was going to be soon. Her suspicion was confirmed when he drew his automatic. She did the same. As cold as it was, she felt a bead of sweat work its way down her spine. Slowly, Vail stepped onto the next stair.

  On the fifth floor, they could see as some light from the street seeped in through a hallway window. Vail swept the floor with his flashlight to make sure there was nothing underfoot that might announce their arrival. The creaking floor was bad enough. He walked forward to the door of the room he thought he’d seen the brief flash of light come from. The number 508, painted on it in gold-edged black paint, had all but peeled off. Standing to the side, he tried the knob. The door was unlocked. He looked at Kate to see if she was ready, and she gripped her weapon with both hands. Vail turned the knob and pushed the door open.

  It was pitch-black inside, no ambient light anywhere. Still at the side of the door and without being able to see in, he flashed the light into the room to see if it would draw fire. It didn’t. He motioned for Kate to stay where she was. He turned off the flashlight, took a deep breath, and stepped into the room. Quickly he moved to the side so he wasn’t outlined by the light coming from the hallway. He looked back and could see Kate leaning into the room. When he didn’t give her any instructions, she moved into the room and stepped from in front of the door as well. Vail held his light as far to the side as he could and turned it on. Other than some scattered debris on the floor, the room was empty. Ahead of him was another closed door to another room. They both moved to opposite sides of the door, and Vail opened it.

  He flashed the light in and saw Charles Pollock slumped in the corner of the room. A syringe was stuck in his arm, and his throat had been cut.

  Before entering, Vail scanned the light around the room, because he could see that Pollock had been de
ad for a while and couldn’t have been responsible for the light Vail had seen from the street. There was another door. He and Kate entered the room and felt something sticky on the soles of their shoes. He moved the light to the floor and could see that it was blood in an inordinately large pool, starting to coagulate. Vail noted that there were no drag marks from there to the corner where Pollock’s body was now propped up. They went over to him.

  Vail pulled the syringe out of Pollock’s arm and held it up to the flashlight. “The color of the residue looks too dark to be heroin.”

  Suddenly a burst of gunfire came through the unexplored door. Both agents dove to the floor. Vail opened fire, letting his Glock stitch the door as he emptied the magazine. He rolled back into a safe position, dropped the empty magazine, and jammed in a fresh one, letting the slide go home.

  He nodded to Kate, and she knew what he wanted. She fired a half-dozen rounds slowly at the door while he crawled forward. He pulled himself up against the wall next to it and pointed his automatic at the doorway as Kate got to her feet, rushed forward, and pinned herself against the wall on the opposite side of the door. Vail pushed it open, again trying to draw fire. None came.

  He rolled around the doorjamb, his automatic at eye level. A hole large enough for a person to escape had been cut through an adjoining wall. “Come on.”

  She followed him as he went back the way they’d come and into the hall, running to the stairwell. He opened the door and listened for whoever it was that had shot at them. Kate could hear faint footsteps. Vail’s head cocked to the side in disbelief. “He’s going to the roof.”

  Taking the stairs two at a time, Vail tried to close the gap. Kate was right behind him, pushing a fresh magazine into her automatic as she ran. Then they heard a door slam.

  When they got to the roof entrance, the door was closed. The lock had been taken out, leaving a two-inch circular hole in the steel door. Vail pushed on it carefully, but it would not give. “He’s blocked it with something.” With measured force, he bounced his shoulder against it, testing its resistance. “There’s some give.” He stood back and kicked it hard, but it held. He took two more steps back and leaped forward, landing his foot where he thought the device was holding it closed. He did it again, and still the door remained blocked.