The Operator

by Craig Martelle

  “The couch.”

  Jenny passed him, uncomfortably close. He walked behind her to resume his seat on the chair.

  A professional. Why were they keeping her alive and unharmed? She couldn’t help smiling. Because they knew that harming her would send Ian against them. They didn’t want that. They were going to use her as leverage.

  Her phone rang. She started to move, but the man pointed at her. Jenny remained where she was while he got up and walked to the counter. The phone was in front of her open purse. She couldn’t tell if he saw the pistol. She’d find out soon enough. He kept his eyes on her until the last moment. He scooped up the phone and returned to his seat. He scowled at the name on the screen. “Honey badger?” he asked.

  “Ian.”

  He tapped accept but didn’t say anything.

  “Jenny?” a voice from the other end.

  “No,” he answered.

  “Good. We’re having a little conversation here. I just wanted to make sure everything was in place. I’m going to give Ian the phone. He wishes to talk to his wife.”

  The man handed the phone to Jenny. She took it gingerly and looked at the screen before holding it up to her ear. “Ian?”

  “Hi, beautiful. Everything okay there?”

  “As good as can be expected. Will you be home for dinner? I was thinking Italian.”

  “Probably fairly soon. I was hoping for Wahlburger’s.”

  “You and your burgers. Soon, then.”

  The man motioned for the phone. She handed it over, and he put it on the side of the table nearest him. He sat back down.

  “We aren’t vegetarians or vegan or kosher. There’s a lot to be said for a good burger with melted cheese and the right bun. Not too much bread, with a covering of lettuce, tomatoes, and pickles. So good. The trick is barbecue sauce instead of ketchup.”

  The man stared at her. She shrugged and turned her head to look out the window at the Strip. Her mind raced, looking for a way out.

  ***

  “Now you know that she’s fine, we can continue our conversation,” Dave said.

  “At some point in time, are you going to tell me what you want, or are you going to play the intimidation game? It’s getting rather tiresome.”

  “Are you intimidated?” the man asked.

  I didn’t dignify that with a reply. It was closing on the time where I was going to kill him right there or die trying. I had consumed my energy smoothie but he hadn’t touched his. That wasn’t very cordial of him.

  “Are you going to drink your smoothie?”

  “No. I told you I didn’t want it.”

  “What do you want?”

  Dave stared back, keeping a blank expression. I matched his look, breathing regularly and slowly. He finally picked up the drink and raised it to his lips. My fist acted almost of its own accord. Coming from under the table behind the cup, punching through it to Dave’s nose. The berry blend erupted into his face and over his head.

  He threw out a hand to block my follow-up, but he was blind. I slapped his hand out of the way and grabbed the back of his head to drive his face into the table. He fought me, and it didn’t hit as hard as I wanted. I squeezed the back of his neck with all the strength in my hand. He held his hands out in surrender.

  “A rag, please? We’ve had a minor accident,” I called toward the counter.

  I remained behind Dave, quickly checking his pockets for a weapon, removing the switchblade before returning to my seat. I kept the knife in my hand, finger on the button.

  The clerk returned with the towel. “Oh, my!” She started wiping, but he took the towel from her. “Do you want another one?”

  “No, thank you, ma’am. This was great. When bad boys spill their drink, they don’t get new ones.” I held out a twenty for her. “Thanks for your help.”

  She took it without a word, smiling as she walked happily back to the counter.

  It was important to be likable in this line of work. Earn their loyalty. She wouldn’t call the police. That’s what I hoped for, in case she had seen what happened. Maybe she still wouldn’t. Twenty bucks was twenty bucks.

  “I asked you a question, Dave. What the hell do you want besides a greatly shortened lifespan?”

  He slowly wiped his face and neck. He was covered in purple and red smoothie. His nice clothes were ruined. Fire burned behind his eyes. He had lost the initiative and his dominance. He blinked to clear his eyes from the burn of berry juice.

  “We want you to meet with the Archive’s leadership team.”

  “Then why are you trying to jack me around? Playing games with an operator will get you killed. If you thought you were having an effect on me, you grossly misjudged me. Did you believe I was going to open wide and devour whatever you were shoveling? You have to know that if you don’t say the right things, you are going to die.”

  He tossed the rag on the table. “The arrogance of confidence. We like that.”

  “The arrogance of stupidity and overplaying your hand. There’s no chance in hell I’m coming to the Archive.”

  “Neutral ground is fine. The leadership team can be here in a couple of days.”

  “Then why the games? Did you have to see what would happen if you tried to pin me in a corner?”

  “We did.”

  I didn’t understand. I needed more information.

  “I need them to be a little more professional. Call your boy and tell him to leave my wife alone. Then you’ll make reservations for us at SW Steakhouse, where this so-called leadership team is going to wine and dine us. The Archive charges an astronomical price for its services. It can treat its people a little better than sending dickheads like you on power trips. It’s a dangerous world out there. Don’t be a victim of it.”

  I dialed Jenny’s number. It took a while before the line went live. I handed the phone to Dave.

  “You no longer need to secure the room,” Dave said into it.

  “Roger,” the voice on the other end of the line replied.

  “Give the phone to Jenny before you go,” I said. Dave relayed my message.

  “Hi, beautiful. Is the bad man going away?”

  “He was professional about the kidnapping, but he’s gone now. I’m in the room, and I’m not scared, Ian.”

  I didn’t know why she added that last part. “Kill the next person who tries to enter the room. Except me. Don’t kill me, and I’ll call before I try the door.”

  “Of course, darling.”

  I hung up.

  “You got yourself a wildcat, it seems. Congratulations.” Dave glared at me.

  I glared back. Dave had lost the power struggle. He no longer held the upper hand. I felt the implied threat. Shame if something happened to her. But his queen lay toppled in the middle of the board, my queen looming. Checkmate in five.

  “Is there anything else? We like to eat early, around six in the evening. Make it so.” I slid my chair back and stood. Stepping past him, I slapped him on the back. “Don’t make me hunt you down. Best thing for you and whoever gave Jenny grief is to disappear. I’m willing to talk to the leadership team, but there’s no value in threatening us. That won’t turn out well for anyone.”

  He nodded almost imperceptibly. A lackey. A field manager. I’d suspected The Peace Archive had people like him, but I had never encountered one. Quality control, thought they knew the job better than those doing it. I tossed the knife into a garbage can outside the doors to the gym, continued to the rental car, and eased out of my parking spot.

  I needed to see that Jenny was okay. I thought we had at least a two-day reprieve. No one would come after us before the meeting. But I’d been wrong recently about too many things.

  I had to think about what a meeting meant while seeing that we both survived to make it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “A man might befriend a wolf, even break a wolf, but no man could truly tame a wolf.” George R.R. Martin

  I called, and Jenny let me in. Once
I was inside, she threw herself at me, hugging me intensely. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” Her voice was muffled, with her face buried in my neck.

  “They should have never come here.”

  “But they did. I thought it was you, and I opened the door. It was a good lesson. I’m sorry, Ian, but you’ve been right all along. I’ll carry the pistol. I’ll be aware. I am not afraid to defend myself.”

  “We have two days to act like normal people. I don’t know why, but I believed my new buddy. We might as well take advantage of it. Let’s buy swimsuits and go to the pool.”

  She let me go, stepped back, and started to laugh. “Now that I commit to packing heat, you tell me I don’t need to.”

  “The next two days, anyway. Packing heat? Do people still say that?”

  “I do.”

  “Fair enough.” I reached for her, but she held me off.

  She gestured toward herself. “Does this look like a bikini body?”

  “Yes. Let’s go to the pool so you can show me off to all the hot showgirls.”

  “How close were you?” Jenny asked, closing with me to touch her nose to mine.

  “Not very. My guy was a lackey. He got into a dick-measuring contest, which he lost. I suspect the operator was here.”

  “What kind of contest?” She kissed me to keep me from answering. “Never mind. I didn’t feel like I was in danger. He didn’t appear to be armed.”

  “A good operator doesn’t need to be armed, as my guy found out. He walked away covered in berry smoothie.” Jenny squinched her eyes as she tried to decipher what I meant. “I punched it into his face. He also got his head slammed on the table. I’m not sure how that happened. He seemed a little clumsy.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.” She twisted her mouth as she thought. I watched her, smiling. “Instead of a swimsuit because I really don’t want to go out there, let’s find a thigh holster and go skirt-shopping.”

  I liked it. “From this man’s perspective, I like how you think. We’ll save the skin show for the privacy of our cool suite. Please understand, I’m proud of who you are. I don’t want you to feel ashamed of your body.”

  “I’ll still hold it against you,” she purred.

  “I like a good pun. And holster shopping. And skin. Today is going to have it all!” I watched her as she got ready to go, looking for signs that she was trying to hide not being able to cope. But she wasn’t. She went about her business as usual. Those months of training hadn’t been a waste. The catalyst had come with the intruder. She now understood why I had to eliminate the two who firebombed us. There are rules to the game.

  And The Peace Archive had broken them.

  ***

  “You look magnificent. Utterly stunning, even though I prefer you au naturel , as in without the warpaint.”

  Jenny had gone all out: a full spa treatment, hair, and professional makeup. Her black dress highlighted her figure in the best ways, and it was long enough to hide the holster and pistol. I wore a dark blue pinstriped silk suit without a tie. I carried the Browning at the small of my back in a holster designed to hide the bulge. As long as I kept the jacket on, no one would see my piece.

  We sported an expensive look to go to an expensive restaurant to talk over life and death issues. We had already scouted the place to make sure we knew the general layout and available exits.

  This one was for real, with only one chance to get it right.

  We waited at the entrance, but the host didn’t let anyone stand around unattended. “Do you have a reservation, or would you like one?” the middle-aged man asked.

  “We’ll be joining others. I’m not sure how many are in the party. My name is Ian Bragg.”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Bragg. Welcome. I’ll show you to your table.”

  It wasn’t quite six yet. Very few diners were seated. No one was eating anything more substantial than appetizers.

  The Archive leadership had not arrived before us. We had a table for four discreetly distant from nearby diners. We put our backs against the wall. The server showed us a bottle of champagne. When we nodded, he cracked it open and poured two flutes. Our water glasses had not yet started to sweat. They were fresh as well. He retreated to the kitchen, leaving us to ourselves.

  Jenny sniffed at the champagne.

  I held up my glass to her. We clinked them and took small sips. “If they wanted to kill us, they wouldn’t do it in the middle of a pricey choke-and-puke with a tainted five-hundred-dollar bottle of champagne.”

  “Choke and puke?”

  “I’m jonesing for a good burger right now. And some salty fries.” I liked what I liked.

  “He dresses up, but we can’t take him anywhere. You look incredible, by the way.”

  “It’s the haircut, isn’t it? Short hair drives ‘em crazy.”

  “Who’s ‘them?’” She winked at me and took another sip from the champagne flute. “This is good.”

  “I expected no less. I can’t imagine why they want to wine us and dine us, but this might be our ticket out of the limelight.”

  “You didn’t play that today.”

  “I knew I forgot something. I’ll listen to it in my mind.” I closed my eyes, but Jenny poked me in the ribs. “Or not.”

  “I think they’re going to offer you something. Another gig.” Astute. I had been thinking the same thing.

  “We’ll find out soon enough.” I jerked my chin toward the entrance. Jenny and I stood as the host guided two men toward us. They wore expensive suits and walked like executives, swaggering but with a sense of purpose. They didn’t delay crossing the dining area. The server had the glasses filled before they arrived.

  The first was older, probably sixty, but in good shape. A vein on his neck stood out, suggesting low body fat. He offered his hand.

  I took it. “Ian Bragg and my wife, Jenny.”

  “My name is Charlie French, you can call me Chaz. My colleague is Vince Trinelli.”

  I shook Vince’s hand, too. Jenny followed suit, hesitantly. I pulled out her chair for her, then took my seat once she was settled.

  “I see why you were smitten, Mr. Bragg. I expect you were powerless against such a divine beauty’s charms.”

  Jenny wasn’t impressed. We waited for Charlie to get to the substance of the conversation.

  He looked around casually before starting. “Vince and I started The Peace Archive nearly twenty-five years ago. We took all the jobs for the first ten years before news of our success filtered to those we were willing to do business with. Then we started hiring. You came to us about a year ago on a sterling recommendation from a couple of our members.”

  “You prefer military?”

  “Yes, and police. We used to interview all the candidates personally, but we saw the value in absolute anonymity, so we stopped those about ten years ago.” He turned to Vince, who continued the history lesson.

  “We still interview our regional coordinators. These personnel make sure the jobs are clean and that the gigs are for the detritus of society. Some, like Jimmy, get past us. Once we dug into what happened, we realized how masterfully you handled the situation. The regional coordinator overstepped her bounds in multiple ways. She should have transmitted the cancellation to you but didn’t. When she realized the dog’s breakfast she made of it, she modified the hit to be on you instead to cover her errors, which only served to compound them. If you hadn’t dealt with her, we would have.”

  Her… The bomb-thrower had been the coordinator. Her husband, the driver, had been the bystander.

  “They shouldn’t have come after us.”

  “I agree,” Chaz replied. “The Pacific Northwest is an active area.” Jenny’s ears perked up. “I’ve sent the one you know as Dave there. We would like you to take his position here.”

  “You put out a contract on me.” I wasn’t amused.

  “We knew you were checking the boards. You couldn’t get into it all the way, but it was a contract for location only. Faking the b
id served its purpose since you contacted us by using your real name.”

  “The best defense is a good offense,” I countered while trying to look deeper into their words.

  “So Dave tells us. He spoke highly of you. It’s extremely rare that someone secures an advantage over one of ours, and you’ve done it twice. If we were to run a selection program for advancement, it would look like what you’ve done. Afterward, you stayed off our radar for three months, despite our best efforts to find you. You are at the top of your game, and we don’t want to lose what all operators should aspire to.”

  The server returned and provided a verbal menu. Jenny and I had already discussed what we wanted since eating at nice places had become one of our favorite pastimes. I deferred to her. She liked ordering for both of us. “Eight-ounce Kobe tenderloin for my husband, four-ounce for me, both medium-rare. Grilled asparagus and a single serving of the Russian Osetra, please.”

  I was trying to get my head wrapped around what Chaz had said. They hadn’t been trying to kill me?

  “Did Nader cancel the contract on Jimmy?” I asked, even though he had already said it was.

  “He did, knowing there would be no refund. I don’t know how you did it, but that was the right way to go about it.”

  I didn’t clarify the details. Jenny squeezed my hand. I turned to her and she smiled at me, the dimmed lights highlighting her beauty. A stream trickled to the side of the seating area, part of the landscaping for the perfect ambiance for high-end dining.

  “A position here. What does that mean?”

  “It means half a mil a year as long as you bring in three contracts, and then you get ten percent of the contract price for every completed contract. Dave made one point three million last year, hanging out in an expensive apartment in Vegas. Where have you been staying?”

  I chuckled but didn’t answer.

  Vince slid a gold card across the table. “Did we mention an unlimited expense account?”

  Jenny and I looked at the card.

  “Is there a way out of the game? We want to take a world cruise that might take a year or two. We can do it now. It would be a lot more fun if we didn’t have to keep looking over our shoulder.”