by L. T. Ryan
Jasmine said nothing.
“So did he give you the information?”
“No, they have it written down there. We’ll review it when we get there. Then we’ll get a chance with Ken and you can judge for yourself if he’s leading us on. Maybe he is feeling guilty over what he’s done now that things are getting close to being real.”
“That’s another thing. How does this guy go from being on the outside looking in, to being second in command, or whatever he claims to be?”
“I’m guessing he was feeding us a line, Jack.”
Jack gave it some thought while the GPS instructed him to turn left and then right. Kenneth had lied to someone at some point in the last twenty-four hours. Who though? Had he lied at the house or had he lied to Fegan and Reed?
The GPS told them to turn right one more time and then said that their destination would be on the left. Jack counted ahead and picked out the house. Noticed the open front door.
“Did you text them and tell them we’re close?” Jack asked.
“No,” Jasmine said. “You want me to?”
Jack shook his head. Slowed the car down as they passed the house. He was not able to see much through the open doorway.
“What’s going on?” Jasmine said.
“Not sure.” Jack made a U-turn at the end of the street and drove by the house again. He stopped the car a few houses down and parked next to the curb.
They got out and crossed the lawn. They made their way to the house, staying close to the front of the neighboring houses to shield themselves from view. It was quiet outside. The neighborhood seemed empty. Typical for a weekday in a suburban area.
They reached the house and approached the open doorway. Jack went inside first and Jasmine followed.
“Fegan? Reed?” she called out.
Jack stopped to listen. There was a slight whirring sound in the background. Nothing else. He took the hall and Jasmine went toward the kitchen.
“Jack,” she yelled from the kitchen.
He backed out of the hall and crossed the living room. Stepped into the kitchen. Jasmine stood at the front of an island, next to the refrigerator. At her feet was a pool of crimson liquid. Jack walked around the island to the opposite end. He looked down at the floor. There, piled one on top of the other, were the bodies of Fegan and Reed, the heavier Reed on top of Fegan.
Jack knelt down by their heads. Both men had been shot at close range with a small caliber weapon. Two entrance wounds on each of them. Front of the head for Reed. Back of the head for Fegan. No exit wounds.
He looked up at Jasmine, who already had her cell phone out and was dialing.
“Wait,” Jack said.
“What?”
“Just wait.”
He looked around the kitchen. He hadn’t paid attention to the whirring sound until now. He saw that the microwave mounted over the stove top was on and counting down. He stood up and looked inside. A single gray square with pins and wires sticking out of it turned in a circle on the microwave’s tray. He looked at the timer. It read twenty-seven seconds.
“Jasmine,” he said in as calm a tone as he could muster. “We have to get out of here right now.”
She turned her head and gave him a puzzled look.
“Now. Run.”
They made it through the door and crossed the neighbor’s lawn before the explosive detonated with a thunderous roar. He lunged to the side and brought Jasmine to the ground with him in between two houses. They scooted back to the wall to protect themselves from the debris that fell around them.
“What just happened?” she said.
“What just happened? We were set up. That’s what just happened.”
He stood and looked around the corner. Debris had stopped falling. He helped Jasmine from the ground and led her to the car.
“Get in. We need to get out of here now.”
He glanced around the neighborhood. Several people now stood outside their homes. Most of them held phones to the side of their heads. A few looked in his direction. He distinctly saw one person with a video camera pointed at them. Jack spun around and got inside the car. He started the engine and sped off.
Jasmine stared out the window with a blank expression on her face.
Jack thought to console her. Changed his mind. “You should call Frank.”
14
“Where are you going?” the guard at the front door asked.
Clarissa said, “Just into town to get a few things.”
“Has this been cleared with Boris?”
“I’m not a prisoner here. I can come and go as I please.”
The guard didn’t move.
“Yes, he knows I am going out. Now get out of my way.”
The guard stood his ground for a moment and then stepped aside. Clarissa pushed past him and found the car that matched the keys Boris had given her. She pressed the lock button on the key fob a few times and saw the taillights of a black Lexus coupe light up.
She slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Then she fumbled with the GPS. It required a lot of panning and zooming in for her to see individual street names. She couldn’t enter the address Mandy had given her. It would be saved in the settings and that would alert Boris that she had been up to something. There was no doubt in her mind that he would check behind her. It was in his nature.
She finally found the street and panned back out. Close to Bear’s house was a shopping center. She configured the GPS to navigate to the shopping center and then drove off.
Twenty minutes later she pulled into the shopping center parking lot. She parked toward the back of the lot, in front of a discount clothing store. She took a moment to get her bearings while looking at the GPS. A mental map formed in her head. She got out of the car and started walking.
A quaint little town, but not as quiet as she expected. Plenty of kids playing outside. It hit her that it must be Spring Break.
She didn’t think there was any way she could live in a place like this. Not enough going on for her taste. Plus, it was just too nice, if there actually was such a thing.
She made one last turn and passed in front of four houses. Stopped at the fifth. Without drawing attention to herself, she scouted the street. Empty. A good sign. No cars waiting. No people watching. She crossed the concrete walkway and then up the stairs and then across the porch. Knocked on the plain front door.
She felt slight vibrations under her feet as someone crossed a room toward the door. Someone large. The door cracked open. Though the figure was little more than a shadow, it had the indistinguishable shape of the man she had come to see.
“Hi, Bear.”
“Jesus, you gotta be kidding me.” He flung the door open and wrapped his thick arms around Clarissa, lifting her off the ground and squeezing her so hard she couldn’t breathe while in his grasp. He pulled her inside and set her down. Closed the door.
“What are you doing here, girl?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I got a few hours to kill.”
“Got a beer?”
“Sure do. C’mon.”
He led her into the kitchen. She took a seat at the vintage chrome edged fifties-style table. He opened the fridge and pulled out two beers. Popped the caps and dropped them on the counter. He placed a beer in front of her and then sat down across from her.
Bear said, “I can’t believe you’re here. It’s been, what, six months now?”
She nodded. Took a pull from the bottle.
“What have you been doing?” he asked. “And how did you even find me here? And what the hell are you doing here?”
Clarissa felt her cheeks flush as she thought about how to break it to him that she’d seen Mandy. She’d only known that she had to come see the big man. There were no plans made beyond that.
“It’s Mandy.”
Bear lowered his head and sunk back in his chair. He set his bottle down on the table. Crossed his arms.
“I’m going to
get her back,” he said.
“I know where she is.”
“So do I. And I’m going to get her.”
“No, Bear, listen. You don’t understand. Look, I can’t say too much, but basically I’m undercover. I’m staying in the house, down the hall from her.”
“You need to get her out of there then.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Like hell it isn’t. Get her out of there, Clarissa.”
She took a long pull on the bottle and thought for a moment before speaking.
“That place, it’s a compound, Bear. The guy has professional security everywhere. Guards inside the house. Outside. Probably positioned in the woods surrounding the house. There is no way I can get out with her.”
Bear uncrossed his arms and let his hands fall in his lap. “Did you talk to her?”
“Yes. She has her own room. Seems to have free reign in the house. She’s being treated well.”
“Then why’re they holding her?”
“I don’t know Boris well enough to find out, yet.”
“Tonight, there’s an event. Will you be there?”
Clarissa shrugged. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. If there is something going on, they haven’t told me yet.”
“We were just going to go to crash it and get some more information out of someone. But, Clarissa, you need to go. Bring Mandy.”
“Who is ‘we’? And how am I supposed to get her out of the house?”
Bear thought it over for a few moments. “You’re right. Suppose you can’t get him to allow her to go. But, what if, well won’t security at the house be reduced while they’re at the event?”
“How should I know? Besides, there will still be some security. Not to mention the alarm system they have in place.”
“Dammit.”
Clarissa reached her hand across the table. Bear’s hand met her’s.
“I’m inside,” she said. “I’ll make sure she stays safe and get her out. When the time is right, though. OK?”
Bear nodded. He picked up the beer bottle and lifted it to his lips. Set it back down. “You got your own phone? A safe phone?”
“I do.”
He gave her his number. “You text me and let me know what happens tonight. OK? If you can bring her, then this is going down tonight.”
She hesitated a moment and said, “I’ll help as much as I can. But Bear you have to realize, I can’t compromise my position yet. I have to get something solid on this group. That can’t happen if I reveal myself.”
“Understood.” Bear paused. “You hear gunshots, get out of the way.”
15
Pierre opened the briefcase that had been handed to him after he exited the Des Moines International Airport. The briefcase contained two Glock 17 9mm handguns, three fully loaded magazines per gun, and a suppressor for each weapon. There was also a tactical knife with an ankle sheath.
He placed the knife and magazines on the table. Inspected each Glock carefully, running his finger down the weapons as he did so.
He placed a series of photographs on the table as well. The pictures were of the man he knew as Bear. He had never worked directly with Bear, though. Pierre only knew him through his association with Jack Noble. The job turned out not to be as bad as he thought when Charles presented it to him. He wasn’t close to Bear and therefore didn’t think that taking his life would pose a moral problem. Especially not for what they were paying him for the job.
A wave of doubt passed through Pierre just then. What if the old man and Charles were simply using him? He knew that Bear was a loose end. Pierre thought about his own involvement in the Jack and Clarissa situation. His actions then might have caused him to be a loose end as well.
The dilemma played on his mind as he prepared to go out for his first look at Bear’s property and the potential location for the hit. Should he take Bear out now? He could take his chances with the old man and be prepared to do battle when back in New York or Paris. Maybe he should make contact with Bear, anonymously, before taking any action on him. Perhaps there was something he didn’t know. Some rift in the organization the he should be made aware of.
He decided not to dwell on it. He’d let the scenario when he arrived at Bear’s house determine his course of action.
Pierre dressed and put on an overcoat two sizes too large. He holstered his weapons inside the coat and placed the extra magazines in his pockets. Finally, he strapped the knife around his lower leg. He doubted that the knife would help much should he find himself in a position to use it against Bear.
He found his Ford rental car in the hotel parking lot. Drove toward the small town the old man had told him Bear lived in. The drive was long and flat and boring. Fortunately, the town was small and it didn’t take long for Pierre to find Bear’s street. He parked next to the curb a block away. Pulled out a pair of binoculars and focused on the house. The view wasn’t as good as he had hoped, so he drove another hundred feet and stopped again. He was only a few houses away now. He climbed across the car to the passenger seat and hunkered back so that he was as far out of sight as possible.
Pierre had been watching the house for twenty minutes when the door opened. A big man stepped out and Pierre recognized the man as Bear. Bear held the screen door open and Pierre figured the little girl would step out next. He would not do the hit here and now, not with the child around.
But the girl didn’t step out, a woman did. Pierre squinted behind the binoculars. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t place her. The face resembled the woman that Jack had been with in Paris. Clarissa, he thought. But the hair was too dark. Her hair had been red, dark red, but red nonetheless. This woman had dark brown hair. The facial resemblance was uncanny and he thought that he might mention it to the old man when he called him later that night. If he called him.
Bear stood on the porch. The woman crossed the yard and turned down the sidewalk, walking toward Pierre. He lowered his seat even further in an attempt to stay out of view. While he wanted to verify if she was the woman from Paris, to be spotted now would throw a major kink into the way he planned to do the job.
He stayed motionless for ten minutes in case the woman decided to stop and take a phone call or smoke a cigarette. The thought made Pierre crave a smoke of his own and he fumbled around in his jacket until he found an unopened pack. He tore the cellophane wrapper off the top and placed a cigarette in his mouth. Lit it and closed his eyes and inhaled. He was just about to sit up and return to the driver’s seat when the passenger side door opened.
Pierre dropped his cigarette and reached inside his jacket. He froze when he felt the cold barrel of a gun against the top of his head.
“Don’t bother,” a man said. “Put your hands where I can see them.”
Pierre slowly pulled his hands from his coat and placed them in the air in front of him.
“Sit up.”
Pierre did as instructed.
“What the hell are you doing watching my house? Wait a minute. Don’t I know you?”
Pierre turned his head and smiled at Bear. “Yes, you do.”
* * *
Bear watched the Frenchman shift uncomfortably on the couch. Any other time he’d tie him up and make Pierre sweat it out. But time was a commodity.
“Go over this again,” Bear said. “And tell me why you were sitting outside my house.”
Pierre cleared his throat and massaged his temples with his thumbs.
“Let me start off by saying that since, you know, since Jack and Russia and him losing his life, I’ve been a depressed mess.”
Bear nodded. Said nothing. He kept his eyes on Pierre, his hand on his gun and his gun aimed at the Frenchman.
“I got a job offer from Charles,” Pierre said.
“So, from the old man then?”
“Yeah, in a roundabout way, I guess you could say that. But I believe that Charles has taken on an increased role in their organization. He runs things in Europe now.”<
br />
“OK.”
“They asked me to do a job and told me it would pay well.”
“How well?”
“Two fifty.”
“American?”
“Euros.”
Bear shook his free hand in front of him. “Not bad.”
Pierre shrugged.
“So the job was to take me out?”
“Yes, but I did not find that out until I was over here.”
“And you were willing to do it?”
“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t know if I could have gone through with it.”
Bear stood up and his gun’s aim dropped down toward the floor. He paced the front of the room. He tried to understand why the old man would want him taken out. What had he done? It was always Jack that dealt with the old man. Bear assisted, but he stayed out of everything else.
“Pierre, why?”
Pierre shrugged again. “Do you ask why when you take a job?”
Bear shook his head. That was a good point. Start asking questions and things quickly take a turn for the worse.
“OK, then, how did they know I was here?”
Pierre sat back in his chair and let his head fall against the upper cushion. His eyes darted side to side as he scanned the ceiling.
“The old man never told me how he knew. He just gave me the address.”
“Did he say anything that came off as unusual to you?”
“Yes,” Pierre said as he leaned forward. He crossed his right leg over his left and placed an elbow on his knee. “Come to think of it he did say something quite odd.”
Bear stopped pacing. His mind raced and he felt his heart rate speed up.
“The little girl,” Pierre said. “He mentioned the little girl. He said if she was with you, I was to take her.”
“Kill her?”
“No, take her. Bring her back to him.”
“And if she wasn’t here?”
“Call him and he’d give me her location. Said he’d also have another job available.”
“What kind of job?” Bear asked.
Pierre shook his head while lifting his shoulders.
A knock at the door startled both men. Bear lifted a finger and an eyebrow and pointed at Pierre. “Don’t move.” He crossed the room and opened the door. “Detective.” He stepped aside, pulling the door open and letting Larsen in.
