“Is it a game to you, Travis!?” Thorne yelled. “Our resources are stretched to breaking point. That means you don’t take time off for R and R unless I say so. Understood?”
“Nicole feels more comfortable with me around.”
“You seem quite cozy yourself.” Thorne grabbed a photo and waved it in Kyle’s face. “I get the picture, all right. If internal affairs don’t crucify you, the press will. Not that you give a damn about that. Who had to back Symons up last night? Me. Three guesses where you were. You’re a liability, Travis. I’m suspending you without pay. Leave your shield and your gun, get the hell out of my office, and go back to your girlfriend’s dojo. When you’re not busy feeling her ass, ask her for a job.”
The killer had struck again, manipulating Thorne to get Kyle thrown off the case. And she wasn’t finished yet. “I’d watch it, Lieutenant,” said Kyle, tossing his badge and gun on the desk. “She said she’d kill you, and this woman doesn’t make idle threats.”
“What’s she going to do? Walk into the station and do me in here? Let’s say she does have a suicide wish, and gets past all our detectives. How will you protect me? With your good looks and boyish charms?” Thorne threw the photos in Kyle’s face. “Get out.”
Before Kyle could respond the telephone rang. The Lieutenant jabbed the loudspeaker button. “Yes?” he snapped.
“Good morning,” replied Jade. “Lieutenant Thorne, isn’t it? Are you any closer to catching me?”
The woman’s voice made Kyle do a U-turn. “That’s her,” he said grimly. “The killer.”
A uniformed officer knocked on the door. Thorne stood up and waved her away. Once the woman turned her back, the Lieutenant resumed his conversation. “Jade Dragon I presume. Or perhaps I should call you Lenora Knight, former Cyber Maiden and employee of Dragonsoft.”
“Perhaps you should call me Meagan Wilson,” the killer said. “Former officer and employee of the San Francisco Police Department. Now deceased.”
The female cop entered Thorne’s office, tossed her cellphone in the trashcan, and closed the door. Except the woman wasn’t a cop. She was a tall, Caucasian assassin wearing dark glasses and leather gloves, a scheming killer who’d used Meagan’s uniform to infiltrate the precinct. Kyle didn’t know if the woman’s red hair was real or another of Lenora’s wigs, but he did recognize the weapon in her hand. It was a tranquillizer pistol.
Jade pulled the cord that lowered the Venetian blinds. “I heard you were looking for me,” she said. “Here I am.”
Kyle dived to retrieve his weapon from Thorne’s desk. While he was in mid-air, the killer aimed her pistol and fired a dart into his neck. As Kyle collapsed, sprinted to the desk and kicked his gun away. She collected a letter opener, grabbed the Lieutenant’s suit collar, and held the blade to his neck. It happened too fast for Thorne to do anything. He watched in silence as the killer pinned a plastic sheriff’s badge to his shirt.
“You remind me of Earl Pritchard,” said Jade, “the bumbling sheriff from A Few Revolvers More. One of my favourite titles, behind Jade Dragon of course.”
Jade tilted Thorne’s head back and slit his throat from ear to ear, chuckling as blood spilled onto his suit. The Lieutenant toppled sideways, eyes rolling back. Jade propped him up, lifting his feet onto the desk. She steadied the prone corpse, and balanced the letter opener on his forehead. It was like she considered the dead man a grotesque work of art, left on public display for others to view.
Kyle crawled towards his gun, but Jade got there first. The killer stood on his arm, grabbed him by the hair, and pressed her tranquillizer pistol to his temple. “I’ll race you to Nicole,” she said. “First one to reach the prize gets to take her home and have some fun. Give me a head start.”
The red haired assassin blew Kyle a kiss, smiled, and squeezed the trigger.
***
Soon after Kyle regained consciousness, he felt a vicious slap to the cheek. Thorne’s office shimmered in and out of focus. Confronted by multiple, distorted images, Kyle swooped at his attacker’s wrist and reached for his holster. Then he remembered Jade had kicked away his gun. It was still on the floor, over by the Lieutenant’s desk. The person Kyle had grabbed broke free. Her face was blurry, but unmistakably Asian.
“Travis!” she shouted. “It’s me.”
“Nicole,” Kyle said, releasing her. “You’re safe.”
“We’re still looking for Miss Tasoto,” the woman informed him. “I’m sure she’s fine.”
Kyle’s confusion turned to concern when he saw the girl’s lab coat. He was talking to Kari. Matthews had set up a cordon around Thorne’s desk. Detectives watched through the window blinds, stunned at the breach in security. Nicole was still unaccounted for, and so was the killer. Wet blood was dripping down Thorne’s neck, which suggested Kyle had time to find them.
“You seal off the building?” he asked, retrieving his badge and gun. He checked the pistol for signs of tampering, but found nothing unusual.
“We’ve posted officers at all the exits,” Kari said. “Nobody’s going in or out.”
Kyle wiped his eyes, talking on the move. “Not even cops?”
“Cops? Are you saying the killer’s one of us?”
The absence of a direct response implied her answer was no. Kyle left the office to begin his search, knowing every second he wasted counted against him. “Nicole!” he yelled, to astonishment from his fellow officers.
“Detective Travis,” shouted Kari from Thorne’s doorway. “Miss Tasoto came down to the morgue, about ten minutes ago. When she couldn’t find you, I think she went home.”
“You think Nicole went home? Why the hell didn’t you tell me before?” Upon reflection, Kyle realized Kari was only trying to help. “Thanks,” he said apologetically. “I’ll check it out.”
Kyle wasn’t prepared to risk the slow moving elevator. He sprinted down five flights of stairs, showed his ID to the officer on duty, and dashed into the parking area beneath the precinct building. It was considered one of the safest garages in the city, with CCTV cameras and abundant sources of light. There were three levels, each with space for a hundred cars. Some spots were reserved for official use, but the majority were accessible to members of the public. Most vehicles belonged to cops, criminals or police workers. Other than city bureaucrats and lawyers, not many visitors could afford a flashy sports car. That ought to make Nicole’s silver corvette easy to spot.
With the precinct in lockdown, the area was unnervingly quiet. Kyle armed himself, and made a methodical sweep of the first sublevel. If Nicole hadn’t left yet, there was a good chance the assassin was still around too. Jade had already killed one man in a parking garage and incapacitated an armed police officer, and Kyle didn’t want to follow in either of their footsteps. Wary of a potential ambush, he kept close to the outside wall, peering around concrete pillars and underneath parked cars as he went along.
The elevator doors opened with a ping, and a uniformed policewoman stepped out. Seeing she was a redhead, Kyle aimed his gun. “Don’t move!” he shouted. “Hands in the air. Slowly.”
The girl turned her head, prompting Kyle to fire a warning shot. After that she did as he instructed. A set of keys fell from the woman’s trembling hands. She wasn’t wearing dark glasses or gloves, and her hair was shorter and slightly brighter than Jade’s.
“Officer Carmen Narobi,” she said. “You can check my I.D.”
Her voice was nothing like the killer’s either. All the evidence suggested she was a legitimate policewoman, but Kyle knew Lenora’s potential for deception and kept ‘Carmen’ in his sights. “I said don’t move,” he said, edging closer. Once Kyle got within twenty feet, he recognized the girl’s face from a police social event and lowered his weapon. “It’s okay, Carmen. I’m sorry.”
A car accelerated up the ramp, bathing them in light. Kyle turned, ready to fire, but relaxed when he saw a familiar silver corvette with an Asian girl behind the wheel.
“Nico
le!” he yelled with relief.
She pulled to a stop beside him. “What’s wrong? I thought you were in the morgue, but when I came back you weren’t there.”
“Listen. Lenora’s here, dressed as a cop. She killed the Lieutenant, and now she’s after you. Carmen! Clear it with the man on duty outside, then take her home. Set up a perimeter with the officers on stakeout. Nicole, lock all your doors and windows. Don’t answer the phone unless it’s me.”
Nicole buckled her seatbelt. “All right. What are you going to do?”
“Stay and find Lenora.” Kyle scanned the garage while Carmen got in the car’s passenger seat. “She’s still here. You can count on it, and I don’t want her using you as a bargaining chip. Now go.”
Nicole reversed to the ramp and drove up to street level. Once the corvette had left Kyle’s sight, he resumed his search. He completed his sweep of sublevel one, and made his way to the stairwell. From outside the building, Kyle heard a loud metallic crash followed by the constant, uninterrupted beep of a car horn. He sprinted up the ramp, showed his badge to the gate guard, and ducked under the barrier.
The garage entrance was behind the precinct, on a quiet, downtown side street. Nicole’s battered corvette was upended against a lamppost. The front windscreen was smashed, and steam rose from beneath the buckled hood. Pedestrians gathered around the scene of the accident, staring at a body on the pavement. Kyle rushed to see who it was.
“Nicole!” Kyle waved his gun to clear the crowd. “Police! Step aside! Out of the way!”
Kyle shoved the pedestrians aside. At first he was relieved to see it was Carmen who lay on the sidewalk. Then remorse took over. He checked the girl’s pulse. She was dead, her broken neck propped against the curb. Jade had murdered another cop, and abducted Nicole while Kyle was in the garage. After he’d let her out of his sight.
“Damn it,” Kyle said, stamping his foot in frustration.
He spotted a whitish figurine on the corvette’s passenger seat. Eager to get a closer look, he climbed onto the hood, and jumped over the windscreen. The object was a ceramic carving of a God from classical mythology. Not being a student of Ancient Greek culture, Kyle had to rely on the name inscribed on the statue’s base to know which deity it was. Apollo.
Chapter Fourteen: Hope Sinks with Apollo
The stranger in Lieutenant Thorne’s office had his back turned, but Kyle could tell he was a government agent from his black suit. Unlike his late predecessor, this guy kept the Venetian blinds raised. He wanted everyone in Homicide to know he was now in charge. Acting under the agent’s supervision, Matthews combed the desk for evidence. A miserable faced brunette in an identical black outfit stood outside the closed door, ensuring their privacy. The badge clipped to her shirt confirmed Kyle’s suspicions. She and her boss were FBI.
Kyle sprinted over to Lakeysia’s desk, and rummaged through her belongings. He had no intention of sharing information with the feds. This was a personal battle between Jade and himself, and involving outsiders would only tip the balance in her favor. The killer had made no demands since abducting Nicole, but Kyle was certain a private meeting was on the cards. History was repeating itself with the kidnapping of a second Tasoto family member. Kyle had gambled with Toshigi’s life and lost, and was determined not to make the same mistake with Nicole.
“Detective Travis.” Frances’ sudden appearance gave Kyle a pulse boost. In his hurry to retrieve his partner’s notes, he hadn’t seen the secretary come in. “There’s a federal agent in Lieutenant Thorne’s office.”
“Not now, Frances. I’m pressed for time. It’ll have to wait.” Kyle dumped a stack of papers on Lakeysia’s chair, and started on her desk drawers.
Frances wouldn’t let it drop. “Agent Baker asked me to inform him when you returned. He asked specifically for you by name. I’ll tell them you’re here.”
Before Kyle could protest, Frances walked off to speak with the female agent. He checked his watch. It was almost four o’clock in the afternoon. In half an hour the killer would have darkness on her side, and he wanted to get back on the road before then. Kyle found what he was looking for beneath an empty pizza box. He brushed spilled breadcrumbs off Lakeysia’s notepad and scanned the top sheet. Prior to hospitalization, his partner had scribbled a series of words pertaining to her leads. The page was cluttered with names, telephone numbers and spider diagrams. A series of obscure references were crossed out, but Kyle was able to read them.
“Apollo,” he muttered. “Randall Forbes.”
Frances returned with the FBI woman. “Agent Baker’s waiting,” the black suited lady said, omitting the customary pleasantries. “He’ll see you now.”
Kyle followed her glance, seeing Baker’s face for the first time. The senior agent was an imposing, square shouldered man with curly blond hair and hawkish eyes. Baker popped a mint in his mouth and inclined his head, signaling Kyle to enter the office.
“Just a moment.” Kyle pulled Frances aside, lowering his voice so the FBI woman couldn’t hear. “Randall Forbes. Does the name ring any bells?”
Frances had a photographic memory, and answered without a pause. “Forbes was Mister Tasoto’s attorney, a partner in his company. With the president dead, he inherits control. Detective Symons asked me to prepare a profile. She didn’t tell you?”
“We were working different angles. I was assigned to somebody else. What other information did you come up with?”
Frances talked quickly, giving her standard brief bio. “Mister Forbes owns five cars and residences throughout California. Several private interests as well. He’s made many contacts in the underworld. During his career, he’s represented known mobsters, corrupt officials, all people with powerful connections.”
Baker joined his female companion. The two agents marched towards Kyle like officers about to arrest a suspect. He was running out of leeway.
“I need something that might give me a lead on Randall’s location,” Kyle pressed. “What’s Apollo?”
“A private yacht registered under his name. Forbes holds a berthing license at Fisherman’s Wharf. He must have a small fortune to afford that.”
Baker stepped between them, swallowing another mint. “Detective Travis,” he said ominously. “Good to finally meet you. Agent Simon Baker, FBI.”
Figuring he was about to be demoted or worse, Kyle decided he had nothing to lose. “Plain old Mister Travis now. The Lieutenant suspended me, a minute or so before the killer paid him a visit. Talk to Frances if you want details on where we stand with the investigation. I’m off duty.”
Kyle dropped his shield on Lakeysia’s desk. He walked away, ignoring the stunned looks he received from Baker and his FBI colleague. Luckily nobody thought to ask for his weapon. Kyle felt sorry for passing the buck to Frances, but Baker was a problem he’d deal with later. Right now, the only thing that mattered was finding Nicole.
***
Randall switched off Apollo‘s engine and exited the control cabin. He’d given his crew their annual leave before traveling out to sea with Asuka. She was down below, preparing some entertainment while the pilot took care of navigation. The water surrounding Randall’s yacht was black under the clear night sky. With no storms forecast, he figured he was in for a calm, relaxing voyage.
Things were heating up. A police lieutenant was dead, and it was time for Randall to leave town before the assassin came for him. He’d arranged a private charter flight out of the country, but his plane wasn’t due to depart for five hours, and he felt safer spending the interim on his yacht than at a deserted airfield. Randall could have invited more girls to his farewell party, but there was always the possibility of Lenora sneaking into the group. One woman was enough to keep him occupied, and an evening with Asuka was always memorable.
Randall steered his ship to the west of Alcatraz Island, slowing to a stop a mile off the coast of the famous `Rock’. The lighthouse beam rotated, periodically shining on open topped boats ferrying tourists to th
e disused prison. The nighttime tour of the cell blocks was about to begin, but Randall had other plans for the evening. He glanced at the Golden Gate Bridge before descending below.
Asuka had already stripped naked. The Asian girl stood behind a drinks cabinet in Randall’s personal quarters, preparing a glass of brandy for her host. She added a slice of lemon to the rim, stirred the drink with a cocktail umbrella, and served it to Randall.
“Have a seat,” she said, escorting him to the sofa. Asuka held the glass to Randall’s lips and tipped it back. “There. That will warm you up. After you’re done, we can cool off in the shower. Relax. I’ve got a treat for you.”
Asuka helped herself to the remaining brandy then licked her lips dry. Randall lay down on the sofa, took off his shirt, and closed his eyes. He heard a loud bump before the girl sat on top of him. Soft, damp hands massaged his bare chest. Randall reached towards Asuka’s breasts. Before he touched them, she grabbed his wrists, and flung his arms against the cushion. She wasn’t normally this dominant, but Randall enjoyed the change of pace. After a prolonged kiss, she pushed him away. The sofa creaked as Asuka stood up.
“That was some treat,” Randall said. “Where are you going?”
Glass shattered on the floor. “Did you enjoy your blind date, Randall?” asked ‘Suzanne’. “It’s been a while since you kissed me. I’d forgotten how disgusting it tasted.”
Randall jerked upright and opened his eyes. It wasn’t Asuka he’d been making love to. The killer was in his cabin, dressed in the same tight, black wetsuit she’d worn two months ago. She’d discarded her flippers and air tank near the door, but still wore a dark visored mask over her eyes and nose. The assassin stepped over Asuka’s body. She carried a bloody katana in one hand, and the girl’s decapitated head in the other.
“It makes a change from Asuka posing topless, doesn’t it?” She smiled sadistically, holding the head above Randall so blood dripped on his chest. “It was very considerate of you to use your secluded love boat. Out here, no one will disturb us.”
Jade Dragon (Action Girl Thrillers) Page 17
