Regret No More

by Seb Kirby

  Reyas pulled his phone from his pocket. “Yes, Senor. And I have help in that matter. This tells me where he goes.” He showed Miles the map display with its blinking blue pin.

  Miles now knew the reason why the Mexican was so concerned to keep checking the phone. “So, you know where he is, now?”

  “Indeed. When he arrived in Albuquerque, he headed for a motel and booked in. He’s been there since. He’s been sleeping or preparing himself for what’s coming next. The signal has not been moving.”

  “You took a risk in coming up here. You could have lost him.”

  “It was important that we met at this place. So you would know I am not the man I seem to be. So you would believe me.” Reyas looked again at the phone. “And he still has not moved. He remains at the motel. It was a risk worth taking, then.”

  Miles wanted to keep talking, to avoid thinking about the precipitous drop beneath the cable car. “So, Heller came here from Austin.”

  “He has unfinished business there. And there is something more you should know, Senor. One of the families you said was involved with the Weeping Woman swindle, Ravitz, is the reason Heller went to Austin.”

  “Elmore Ravitz. We had him located in San Diego.”

  “He was moved from there.”

  “You know some say Ravitz is future presidential material.”

  “Then, Senor, that would explain the security at the house on Town Lake. I followed Heller there. I saw him looking the place over and then walking away.”

  Miles wanted to know more but the vertigo induced by the descent was about to overcome him. The judder as the tramway car passed over the first and then the second turret was no worse than on the ascent except that the mere fact of going down made this all the more frightening. He was trying not to look down, trying to eliminate from his mind the gnawing fact someone had told him years before but which now infiltrated his thoughts: if you look at the face of the mountain you can see wreckage from the Boeing 747 crash of the 1950s – the terrain is so inaccessible that much of the wreckage remains.

  Reyas was unaffected by the descent. “TWA Canyon, Senor. It should not be that frightening, not for a man of your stature.” He paused and then continued. “Another thing, Senor. In Austin, the German showed interest in an Englishman staying in the Warren Richardson Hotel. I followed him there. I watched as he looked the man over.”

  Miles was grateful to take his mind off the descent once more. “Describe him.”

  “The man in the hotel?”

  Miles nodded.

  “Like you, Senor. Enough like you to be your brother.”

  Miles called up a photo of James from his phone.

  Reyas smiled. “Yes, Senor. That’s him.”

  They had reached the bottom of the descent and the tramway car lurched to a halt.

  Miles climbed out onto secure, flat earth and made no comment about his relief at having made it back down.

  His only thought was to head for Austin to find James.

  Reyas was insistent they should stay on the trail of Heller.

  In the event, it came down to the same thing.

  They were in downtown Albuquerque, preparing to go out to the motel where Heller was staying when the truth became clear.

  The blue pin on Reyas’ phone that tracked Heller’s movements showed he was active and moving quickly. It didn’t take long to work out that the German’s direction of travel led to the airport.

  Reyas was troubled. “He’s leaving Albuquerque. It means only one thing. He’s heading back to Austin.”

  “Why would he do that when he’s achieved nothing here?”

  “That I don’t know, Senor. Just that we need to go now if we are not to lose him.”

  They hailed a taxi and headed for the airport. Halfway there, the blue pin on the display disappeared.

  “He’s turned the phone off. “ Reyas was shocked. “Which means… ”

  “He’s airborne.”

  Matters got worse when they reached the airport. Heller had planned well. Not only had he arranged his trip to minimize the time he would need to wait before his flight to Austin, he’d made sure there was a four hour wait for the next flight in case anyone was following.

  Then came the bad news. The flight wasn’t direct. Miles and Reyas would have to go via Phoenix. That, and the wait to leave Albuquerque, put them well behind Heller.

  As they waited in the departure lounge, what Heller had done in Albuquerque became clear. A TV reporter was taking viewers through the details of a local crime. It was motiveless. The dead man had been walking dogs in the Casa District when he’d been stabbed. Miles doubled his attention as he heard the name of the man who had died.

  He turned to Reyas. “Stephen B Davidson. One of the recipients of the Pugot letter. It was Heller.”

  Reyas looked again at the phone. “Nothing, not even this, is foolproof, then, Senor.”

  Miles was puzzled. “Heller’s phone didn’t leave the motel room. But he did. Why would he do that?”

  “Something unforeseen. Something about the way he worked that meant there was no place for the phone.”

  “Or he forgot it.”

  “I doubt it, Senor. A man like that has a reason for everything. Maybe he was just being careful and left it there while he made the hit.”

  Miles frowned. “However it happened, he’s ahead of the game. He has a four hour head start on us.”

  It got worse. There was further delay at Phoenix when the ’plane they were due to board reported mechanical failure. The hope was that when they reached Austin the next morning they would be able to pick up Heller once more from his phone signal.

  Chapter 53

  Julia was impressed with Martin Craig.

  He knew he was putting himself in danger by protecting her yet he was calm and collected and accepting of what Miles had told him even though he must have known this wasn’t even a quarter of the truth. She didn’t like the idea of Craig putting himself in harm’s way without knowing what kind of threat he was facing.

  That was both the problem she now faced and the reason why Miles had been economical with the truth. Was there risk if Craig knew the whole story?

  It came down to a matter of instinct. Was he a man she could trust?

  Craig had taken her through the procedure. He was keen to respect her privacy at the same time as he offered protection. His room in the hotel was on the same corridor and from there he could keep watch over her. He gave her a pager linked to his own. If she had a concern of any kind, for any reason, she should use the pager. She should only leave the hotel if he was with her. If she saw anyone suspicious, she should go back to her room and alert him. If they were followed she should make for her room and bring them along the corridor past Craig’s room, pressing the pager call button and knocking on the door as she went past. He would do the rest.

  He gave her these instructions in such a matter of fact way that she began to feel more at ease just hearing him tell her about them.

  She was warming to his cool assurance. Her instinct told her to tell him more.

  They were seated downstairs in a quiet area of the lobby. There was no one near and Julia thought they should talk. “Miles didn’t tell you everything.”

  Craig wasn’t fazed. “My clients seldom do. I don’t ask. It’s simpler that way. The protection needed is the same in the end. Nine times out of ten, the risk is overestimated in any case.”

  She was impressed again by his calmness. “You might need to know what we’re facing is no ordinary threat.”

  “Then why not go to the police?”

  “That’s not possible.”

  He smiled. “And that’s why I’m here.”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “If you feel I need to know, tell me.”

  Craig listened as Julia told him what had happened in recent days and in her past. She made him aware of the level of the threat from Italy. She told him of her pain at not knowing where they’d
taken James.

  He asked few questions and when she finished he had just two words to say. “I understand.”

  At dinner in the hotel later that evening Julia was again approached by the hotel manager who was astonished when she answered his question about her proof of identification by showing him the passport in the name of Elizabeth Meredith that Miles had obtained. He scrutinized it in detail but could find nothing to fault. “Your husband, Mr. Meredith, gave you this?”

  Julia shook her head. “No, he’s still away on business. My brother brought it to me.”

  “And where is your brother?”

  “He’s right here.” Craig, who was sitting opposite Julia, was introduced to the manager who expressed further surprise. “Excuse me, sir, I had not made the connection.”

  Craig smiled. “It’s a pleasure to be able to keep my sister company, I’m sure you understand.”

  The manager left without mentioning that having sight of the passport now made no difference since he’d already long before reported the matter to the police.

  Julia felt secure having Craig to protect her but she knew a long night lay ahead without knowing where Jim was.

  After a fruitless day at the Comicom fair and a wasted evening of paranoia in the bar of the Warren Richardson acting as bait for the operative Craven was so sure would appear, I made another attempt to have it out with him.

  “What makes you so sure he’s going to show?”

  “Enough, James. Why can’t you accept that we’re expert at what we do and if we say it’s only a matter of time before the guy shows you should believe us?”

  “Because it’s the ‘just a matter of time’ part of this I don’t get. Meanwhile, I have to take on trust that you’re looking after Julia’s safety.”

  He tried to look and sound convincing but I knew I shouldn’t believe a word he was saying.

  “Look, as I’ve told you more than once, James, you can trust us. Why can’t you accept this simple fact?”

  “You’re promising me you have her under your protection in London?”

  “James, you have my absolute assurance that’s the case.”

  “Let me talk to her then.”

  “You know we have an agreement not to allow that. I can’t think you want to go back on our agreement.”

  I thought about Miles and what Craven had in mind for him if I didn’t continue to co-operate, and I thought about Julia and the possibility that Craven’s intentions might turn hostile towards her and I backed down. “OK. So, how long do you expect this show to go on?”

  He smiled. “As long as it takes.” He turned to Agent Miller who’d sat with me once more during the evening’s vigil. “We’re in no hurry, are we, Debbie?”

  She replied without a smile. “Just as you want it, sir.”

  Craven turned back to me. “He’ll show. As I told you, it’s only a matter of time and we have all the time in the world.”

  He waved a hand and Agent Philips, the first on the rota as my overnight guard, stepped forward. “Time to get some rest, James. Tomorrow could be the big day.”

  Day 5

  Friday August 23rd

  Chapter 54

  It was unfortunate that Wolfgang Heller would have to resort to something this direct on his return to Austin but they’d left him no choice – with such levels of security surrounding Ravitz the course of action he was about to take was inevitable.

  After all, as one of the god-fearing of this world he had a right to find a way past such restrictions by whatever means he had at his disposal.

  That was justification enough to depart from his normal methods. He liked to see the look in the eyes of those he dispatched, to make sure they understood the power of the man who’d brought this end to their lives, but, alas, it would have to be different this time.

  El Romero was good for something, at least. He had enemies that Heller had found it easy to work with – men like Johnny Rivenza. He’d obtained the plastic explosive and detonators at short notice on the Tijuana black market, had sent them across the border with one of his drugs mules and delivered the merchandise to Heller in Austin. It was something El Romero would never have had the courage to do.

  Building the weapons would not be a problem. Apt that here they called them improvised explosive devices, IEDs. He would draw on the counter insurgency training he’d received in an earlier life. He knew how to use the two smart phones he’d just bought as the timers. He smiled at the thought of how appropriate it was that advances in technology made such features available to anyone. He’d always liked plastic explosives, the way he could mold it to take up the shape he wanted.

  That was important. In this heat, there was no question of concealing the explosive under a jacket. He would have to mold it around his body and wear it under a shirt. The oppressive heat of this place would be intensified and hard to bear without giving away what he was concealing but he would call on the power of the tantric energy at the heart of his control over the world and no one would know.

  The trip to Albuquerque had served him well. His enemies in the FBI had been kept waiting for anything to happen here in Austin. They were expecting a strike on the Englishman at the hotel but not on the Ravitz compound. He was about to give them both. But first, there was work to be done.

  While in Albuquerque he’d visited a clothing warehouse just outside town. It was remarkable, he thought, that you could purchase just about anything in this country, no questions asked, so long as you had the money. He’d bought a contract police uniform with all the necessary additions and, trying it on now in the back of the vehicle he’d hired and looking at himself in the driver mirror, he thought it looked good on him. More than that, he thought it made him look authoritative.

  That was the idea. Heller knew that in this country there was a multitude of companies offering policing services – protecting schools, universities, shopping malls and public buildings – many armed, most working for small unregulated companies. In the protection measures taken at Town Lake to safeguard his targets it was no different. When he’d checked out the compound, he’d observed that alongside the men from the FBI was private uniformed security from more than one company. He’d also observed the comings and goings taking place as men checked off shift and others came in for work. He’d followed one of the men home. He’d broken the man’s neck and taken his security pass. The man would not report for duty again. It didn’t matter now. Heller would be reporting in his place.

  He knew better than to pretend to be the man he’d just killed or to present himself in the man’s uniform. There was too great a risk that one of the man’s colleagues would notice that Heller didn’t look anything like the man he’d replaced. No, this was better. He would swipe his way into the compound using the dead man’s security card. That was the identity check. Once cleared, there would not be any others. If challenged at some other time when he was within the compound, he would say he was from a new security company, hired to increase the numbers. Yet he knew that was unlikely – if you encounter an authoritative man in a uniform who looks as if he belongs you have no reason to challenge him.

  All it took was the courage to walk into the Ravitz compound in the full light of day and look as if he belonged. It might be a problem for most men but Heller knew he wasn’t like most men. Courage would not fail him.

  It would help that this was early morning, 6.30 AM, when the concentration of those who had been on duty all night was at its lowest, when their thoughts had turned to going home as the morning shift arrived.

  He left the hire vehicle a short distance from the front entrance of the compound and walked towards the gatehouse. The guard there was not FBI, he was private security like himself. Heller could see him looking at him with care as he approached.

  For this to work, he needed to know where the swipe card entry/exit lock was housed, so he would not arouse suspicion by being seen to be searching for it. He was in luck. An FBI agent was exiting. There was the machin
e, on the far side of the entrance area. The FBI man was talking with the security guard in the gatehouse, distracting him.

  “Everything in order?”

  “Yes, sir. Everything’s clear.”

  The FBI agent nodded as his path crossed Heller’s. Heller nodded back and walked on towards the swipe card entry/exit lock. He pulled out the dead man’s card and swiped it through. The door opened and with a nod from the guard in the gatehouse, Heller was in.

  He knew not to rush but to move with purpose. This was difficult since he didn’t know the place on the inside. There was a long corridor with windows out onto a garden area with well-kept shrubs. He needed to get to the end of the corridor to be nearer to the accommodation area. Just past halfway the door at the end of the corridor opened. A uniformed guard from the same company as the guard he’d killed walked towards him.

  The guard approached but did no more than give a nod of acknowledgment as their paths crossed. Heller did not nod back. It was as things should be when you have authority.

  Passing through the doorway at the end of the corridor he was now close to the family accommodation. The power of the explosive was such that he knew he wouldn’t have to be that close. The twelve pounds of plastic explosive he’d molded round his ribs and concealed beneath the uniform shirt was hot and sticky but had not been detected. It was enough for two bombs to blow this place apart.

  The heavy security guarding the Ravitz family would be a little way off yet. But here, deep inside the compound but not yet that close to the family, uniformed guards were seldom deployed since no one was supposed to be able to get this far. This was the perfect position. The brute power of the explosives he had with him would destroy the whole area and everyone in it.

  He found an unlocked cupboard situated halfway along the next corridor. It was used to house cleaning equipment and supplies. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

  The security guard shirt was removed and Heller pulled out the materials for the IEDs. He divided the explosive into two six-pound blocks, shaped each to maximize the explosive impact and armed both detonators. He then attached the smart phones. He set the first to detonate in fifty-five minutes and the second to detonate after one hour and thirty-five minutes. The difference was the time it would take for the rescue and support teams to get into place. The second IED would take care of them.