“Not yet. But I’m close. New developments. Ms. James has a male companion with her.”
“Who is he?”
“No idea. They’re taking the bullet train back to Paris. What’s the new target’s status?”
“He’s expendable, just like she is—once you get the hard drive from her, that is.”
“Affirmative. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. I’m on the train with them. I’ll keep you posted.”
Niklas terminated the call and stared through the window at the couple while he planned his next move. He reached his hand into his jacket and adjusted the Glock 17 holstered under his arm. He was looking forward to putting it and his SWR Trident silencer to work again.
****
After he hung up with Niklas, he dropped his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes. The situation was getting more and more bizarre. Could Ms. James really be in Paris for personal reasons? A romantic trip with a boyfriend? If so, the coincidence had sealed their fate. Niklas would take care of them both, whether or not she was in possession of the drive. The toll would continue to increase until he had the damn drive and its valuable contents in his hands.
He never envisioned such an easy plan would turn out so fucked up. The idea had been to establish his position by proving he was the best man to do his job. As it was, the longer it took to reach a resolution regarding the files, the more it reflected badly on him, making him look pathetic and incompetent in his boss’s eyes. He needed those files in his hands.
His temples pounded with the accumulation of stress the last few days had brought. He hoped his day would be crowned with good news from Niklas later on. He had already arranged for a private charter to be on standby to fly Niklas to the States as soon as he received word of his success. Meeting his old friend in person for the exchange might not be the wisest decision, but it was the best way to avoid bringing a new middleman into the picture. The tension caused by the impending meeting increased the pain in his head to migraine proportions.
He padded to the luxurious Italian marble bathroom he shared with his wife, took a couple of migraine pills, and returned to bed. He closed his eyes again, mentally shooing the pain away. He had a full day of meetings ahead of him and it wouldn’t be seemly for him to look like he was at death’s door while discussing his long-delayed plans later that morning with the CEO. He smirked. Even out of whack, his plan was already working to his advantage. Now it was only a matter of waiting for his labors to bear fruit.
****
Nathan had used the information and photo Cassandra had provided to pull up everything he could find on Niklas and Carl Kenyon. Neither of them were Mickey Mouse Club candidates, that was for sure.
Kenyon, a low-life, had no known female associates. He was a loner and just a smalltime player in the world. Nathan couldn’t locate anything on him on the CIA flag lists. Niklas, on the other hand, was a Grade “A” Badass. He had been able to match the picture Cassandra sent him to a man named Niklas Möeller. American-born of German descent. Psycho was a better term to describe him. His file was extensive and he was on several watch lists.
He knew how to handle himself and kept under the radar; however, his classified record told a gruesome story. Ex-Military with an Honorable Discharge. Several reports in his file described unsanctioned actions that tied him to massacres committed under the cover of military operations. The man liked to inflict pain.
His actions had been shamelessly covered up by his superiors due to the nature of the operations, but had been noted in his service records. His list of qualifications was somewhat scary, considering his history. He was a munitions and explosives expert, just as Cassandra had thought. Even more interesting was the fact that Möeller had tried to join the CIA but had been rejected. His Farm psych evaluation labeled him as a risk, someone who would most likely change sides, given the right motivation. The evaluation also noted his borderline psychopathic nature.
A chill filled Nathan as he read the report. More than ever he understood he had made the right decision. Cassandra needed to know who she was dealing with. Bundling the information, he encrypted it and sent it to her with a message to watch her back. Questions of how she had become involved with that kind of psycho revolved in his mind. Shit, Cass. What have you gotten yourself into this time?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
And Destroy
Cassandra and Trevor boarded the train. As soon as they were seated, they accessed the train’s Wi-Fi network and set to work. Although the first leg of the trip was a quick one, they wanted to be online in case they received any new information from George or Nathan. But the lack of privacy in the coach section meant that they wouldn’t be able to discuss any details received until the next leg of their journey, when they would have the seclusion of a private cabin.
The pieces of the puzzle they had gathered so far didn’t quite fit into a complete picture. Cassandra had in her possession the most important piece of them all—the hard drive—and the knowledge that its contents had not been compromised. Several questions still remained unanswered, including who the hell were the masterminds behind the whole ordeal they found themselves in—the ones responsible for two deaths.
Cassandra saw the email from Nathan hit her inbox and excitement filled her as she opened it and scanned the information. Nathan had come through, providing a full dossier on Niklas, including his last known address, past surveillance photos, and psych evaluations. The information collected by Nathan confirmed what she thought—Niklas was as deadly as they come.
“Trevor,” she called for his attention. “We heard from Nate. There’s not much more on Kenyon other than what we already know. Niklas, on the other hand, is quite a colorful character. I’m forwarding the email to you.”
Trevor nodded. “Got it. Sending it to George.”
Soon they heard the call announcing their arrival in Nice. They gathered their belongings and exited the car, merging into the flow of passengers. It was summer, and tourists crowded the station. Trevor took her hand and kept her close as they weaved their way to their platform.
The first to board, they found their cabin and settled in, stowing their bags in the tiny luggage compartment and leaving their laptop cases within easy reach. A little while later, the departure call was heard over the speakers and the train smoothly left the station, gradually accelerating until they were travelling at top speed.
Trevor set up his workspace and immediately hooked his laptop up to the network—his lifeline to the outside world. They had six hours to kill and it didn’t look like he was going to relax and enjoy the scenery. So much for the possibilities the cabin provided.
As she watched him, Cassandra’s thoughts turned to the night before. It had been a surprise, a gift, really. Even though the circumstances had been tragic, the end result would be cherished forever. She had found her destiny through chaos and violence. She had found her heart again.
She kept her fingers crossed that the information Nathan had provided would give George enough to track down Niklas and expose his connections. Nathan’s last comment on his email had been for her to watch her back. No warning was needed. She was definitely watching both her and Trevor’s backs. Trevor must have sensed the weight of her stare, because at that moment he looked up at her.
“Is there anything else we can do with the information Nate sent?” she asked.
“Unfortunately, no. George has it. I wish I had a backdoor to Echelon right now so I could do some digging of my own. Once we figure out which company arranged for the copy we can name names. We know Kenyon was the middleman. It’s just a matter of time before George finds some sort of connection.”
“Anything I can do besides keep an eye out for more info from Nate? I’m not used to sitting on my hands.”
“Not really. I know you’re itching to get back home and close this case. I got us booked on a redeye out of Paris tonight. It’ll give us time to grab our stuff from the hotel and return the rental. Is that o
kay?”
“Works for me.” Cassandra smiled. For the first time, she didn’t feel anxious over not being in control of the planning. She’d always been so strict about handling those details herself, but she kind of liked the idea of giving some of that control over to Trevor. The same way she liked the fact that he was thoughtful enough to ask for her opinion, even though their choices were limited.
Leaving him to his geeky groove she enjoyed their comfortable silence. After a while, she decided to stretch her legs. Running around had taken its toll and she was dying for a bottle of water.
“I’m going to get something to drink. Do you want anything?”
Trevor’s eyes met hers and he smiled. “No, I’m good. Thank you.”
She never dreamed she could fall so hard, so fast, but it had happened just like Jessica predicted. However, she still feared the consequences of loving someone the way she had come to love him. As hard as it was to accept, she had to admit that she had a lot in common with her father in that regard.
She couldn’t fathom losing Trevor. Reality was a bitch and death the only certainty in life. She now had a better understanding of what Robert had experienced at losing her mother. But as much as she feared losing Trevor, the idea of walking away from him after having tasted what life with him could be like was more painful than the idea of mourning him in the future.
She stopped at the door to look back at him again and chuckled at his disheveled appearance. They would both need another nice, long shower when they reached Paris. She was already looking forward to further exploring that newfound pleasure.
Cassandra shut the door behind her and walked through the next two train cars to the little restaurant kiosk. She had never been on a bullet train and walking against the direction they were travelling in was an odd experience to her, even though there was almost no sense of sway at such a high speed.
****
Trevor refused to give up his search for information on Kenyon’s killer. Somehow, the whole story had the makings of a twisted fairytale. A niggling feeling that Cassandra had missed something ate at him.
His mind tried to make sense of the information sitting in front of him. The copy of the files, which, in his opinion, had happened a little too smoothly, Allison’s all-expense paid trip to Europe for a simple exchange, Kenyon’s involvement, a hired hand from New York with a gambling addiction, and now a professional killer—a naïve employee, a middleman, and an assassin. Figuring out how they were all connected was the key to solving the puzzle.
Cassandra’s comment regarding Niklas looking for a woman popped in his head. Kenyon’s supposed accomplice. The killer knew Allison was dead, and was looking for someone else. Trevor had read Cassandra’s in-depth study of Kenyon’s background, finances, acquaintances, even personal life, and Kenyon had no ties to female associates, which was corroborated by Nathan’s report.
A new thought triggered a more damning theory. What if another insider at EXClinic had planned all along to have Allison take the fall? What if the intent was never to give the copy to a competitor?
Cassandra had disclosed her extensive review of the employees directly connected to the trial data, but she had never mentioned anything about her gut feelings regarding any of them. Was it because she didn’t have any, or because she had been distracted by her focus on managing her team to excel in their charge?
Lost in his musings, Trevor missed George’s first couple of lines on the chat program they used to communicate.
You won’t believe what I found…
Trev? There?
Trevor quickly typed back, Yes. What’s up?
You know the phone we traced to Monte Carlo? I received the full call history for the last month and decided to dig further. We struck gold, my friend.
What do you mean? Spill.
Calls had been made to a suit high up the chain, but the whole thing is weird. I dug up stuff on him. Not sure how that connects. You’ll be puzzled, too.
You are mumbling in type, George. Send me what you have. Let me check it out.
Trevor saw the file download notification immediately appear on the screen, and saved the file to his hard drive.
Opening it, he skimmed through the call history and associated transcripts. What he read made him sick to his stomach. The clues were all there. He blindly stared out the window, trying to connect all the dots. The flash of the chat window on his screen caught his eye.
Trev? There’s more.
What?
Remember the other guy you asked me to trace? He has also been in contact with the same suit. I managed to find and trace a phone registered to this Niklas guy. He made a call to the suit today. I’m still waiting on the transcript. In the meantime, I put a lock on the cell signal. Trev, it’s currently travelling at a very fast speed.
****
Biding his time during the transfer to the Paris, Niklas had lost sight of Ms. James and her companion, but he was certain they were on the same train. Boarding the car closest to the engine, he had waited until the doors closed to start his search. The two lovebirds weren’t going anywhere during the next six hours. Plenty of time to locate and retrieve the hard drive and dispose of them.
Passing through to the next car, he walked down the narrow corridor that ran alongside the windows and knocked on each cabin door, offering a quick, “Sorry, wrong cabin” or “Sorry, these doors all look alike” once he had verified the passengers inside were not the ones he itched to get his hands on.
Niklas was on the hunt and enjoying it. His anticipation built each time he knocked on a door and had to wait for an answer. To him it was like hovering on the verge of a climax. He was confident he’d find them soon. When he did, he’d have what he wanted and more. A smirk overtook his mouth and it almost watered while he planned out the “and more” he would take from Ms. James. He was also looking forward to owning more of his buddy’s already indebted soul. Considering his position, it could become handy in future business dealings.
Niklas continued to methodically check each train car. His thoughts honed in on Ms. James. Her presence in Monte Carlo at the same time as Kenyon, the shock on Kenyon’s face on learning the hard drive was not where he had left it, the fact that the formula had been under her protection when it was copied, and—the most interesting tidbit of all—that she was a CIA ex-operative.
In his world, there were no coincidences. If something smelled off, it was definitely rotten. And everything about this job and Ms. James smelled as rotten as a decomposing corpse—a stench he knew well.
Niklas’s envy flared when his thoughts touched on the CIA again. He’d wanted to join the Agency back in his military days but was summarily dismissed. He’d never quite gotten over his frustration and fury at being told he wasn’t good enough. His hatred flared. Who were they to tell him he wasn’t good enough?
His fists clenched and unclenched in anger. Maybe he would have some fun with Ms. James before carrying out the kill order. Considering her CIA experience, he might enjoy a “conversation” with her, testing her resolve and skills to see why she had been chosen and not him.
He pictured the great pleasure he would take in bringing the woman down, the one who had turned a simple retrieval and clean-up job into a total clusterfuck. A smirk spread across his face. A lesson was definitely in order.
****
George’s last piece of Intel set off an alarm in Trevor’s head. He knew immediately they were in for a world of hurt. The pieces were now falling into place and he was positive Cassandra was the woman Niklas had been after. She had been in the crosshairs from the moment Trevor had decided to help her.
Trevor had to warn her. They needed to find a safer place on the train to hole up in until they reached Paris. The private cabin was less exposed than the coach, but it still wasn’t safe enough, considering who was on board hunting them. He quickly closed and shoved the laptop aside and headed to look for her. Barging out the door, he bumped into someone and looked down to m
eet cold, calculating, pale blue eyes. His stomach tightened. The hunter had found them.
The cabin door opened and Niklas instantly recognized the man barging out. He stood his ground and chuckled inside when the man—Ms. James’s companion—collided with him. He appeared startled for just a millisecond and then recognition settled in his eyes. Somehow, the man knew who he was. That intrigued Niklas even more.
Niklas pulled his gun from inside his jacket, pointed it at him, and forced him back into the cabin. It amused Niklas that the man appeared to be weighing his options as if he had any.
“Don’t bother. You have none.”
Trevor knew exactly what Niklas wanted. He stalled for time. “Who are you? What do you want?”
“Let’s skip the cat-and-mouse game, why don’t we? Where’s Ms. James?”
Trevor’s hands balled into fists. “She’s not on board.”
“Cut the crap, whoever you are. I know she’s here. I watched you board in Monte Carlo.”
Trevor tried to misdirect Niklas’s attention. “Did you see us board in Nice?”
“No, but I am pretty sure that if you’re here then she’s not too far.”
Cassandra. Trevor prayed she took her time coming back from the restaurant, but their luck had run out. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement at the door and his worst fears were confirmed. Cassandra was back. Shite!
Cassandra walked into their car carrying the drinks and sandwich she planned to share with Trevor. At first she thought she had gone one car too far when she observed an unfamiliar man standing just inside. She looked at the number above the door and confirmed she was in the right place.
She eased forward and caught the reflection of the cabin in the large train window across from it. Through the reflection, she saw that the man held something in his hand. Something pointed at Trevor. A rush of adrenaline hit her. Shit! As quickly as the yell echoed in her head, the training ingrained in her—first by her father and then by the CIA—kicked in. Her pulse raced; she closed off all emotions and reacted. She dropped the drinks and sandwich to free her hands. The noise distracted the man. His head swerved in her direction and a hint of a smirk appeared in his eyes. A shuffling in the cabin attracted the man’s attention again and all hell broke loose. She heard a loud impact, the man jerked back violently, and there was another loud crash inside the cabin. Cassandra’s instincts spurred her to charge and tackle him as he fell back through the door. Their momentum took them to the floor of the narrow corridor.
Countermeasure (Countermeasure Series) Page 30
