Contract to Kill

by Andrew Peterson

  “Are they okay?”

  “Yes, but a sedan sideswiped an SUV right in front of them, and they were forced to flee the scene. They said they heard a machine gun.”

  “Sounds like it’s going to be a busy night for SDPD.”

  “When it’s busy for them, it’s usually busy for us. Like I said, I’m afraid your window to talk with Mr. Haynes will be extremely brief. Follow me, and please keep your voices down; we have an infant in there.”

  Nathan and Holly trailed Dr. Thelan into the ER.

  “There’s your man.”

  An orderly pushed Toby’s gurney into a stall.

  Toby’s eyes were closed and a gauze bandage encircled his head just above his brow line. Nathan hoped Toby was just protecting his eyes against the overhead fluorescents, not unconscious. Nathan knew from firsthand experience that bright light and concussions didn’t go well together.

  In the stall, she put a hand on Toby’s shoulder. “Mr. Haynes, can you hear me? It’s Dr. Thelan. You’re back in the ER.”

  Toby’s eyes opened.

  “I have two FBI agents who want to speak with you. Are you okay with that? May I share your medical information with them?”

  He nodded, which caused a wince of pain.

  While Dr. Thelan typed her password into the computer, Nathan stepped forward and winked at the patient. “It’s Edward, Toby. How are you feeling?”

  “Where’s Mara? Is she okay?”

  “I don’t know.” Nathan hated the lie, but couldn’t risk an emotional meltdown right now. He’d tell Toby the truth later, after his surgery.

  “She’d be in here if she was alive.” Toby looked at the doctor. “Right?”

  Dr. Thelan didn’t say anything.

  Nathan decided to come clean. Fighting back his own emotions, he said, “Mara didn’t make it. They shot her . . . just like you.”

  Toby’s face became a mask of pain. His mouth opened, but no words came out.

  “I’m sorry,” Holly said, putting a hand on Toby’s shoulder.

  Nathan knew he was seconds from losing it. He instinctively summoned a burst of rage, allowing the red energy to radiate through his body. He used it like a blowtorch to burn away fear and uncertainty. Incinerated, the weaker feelings fell victim to aggression and resolve. Nathan didn’t relish killing anyone in cold blood, but exceptions could be—and would be—made in this case. An innocent life had been stolen, snuffed out by a phony hard-ass who believed the rules didn’t apply to him. Well, Mason, old pal, you’re not the only one who breaks the rules.

  “He killed our baby,” Toby cried softly.

  “With your help, we’ll put him in prison for the rest of his life.” Nathan glanced at Holly, who nodded for him to continue. “Toby, to protect Dr. Thelan, we have to be careful what we say, but we need to know something. Did you give the man who shot you our names?”

  “No. He kept asking if I told anyone, over and over. Mara didn’t talk either. They had her in the baby’s room. I couldn’t see her.” He wiped a tear with his wrapped fingers. “They were hurting her. I heard her say she sent a text to Karen. But I didn’t know she did that, I swear. Did they kill Karen too?”

  “She’s safe,” he said. “We got to her first.”

  Nathan knew his safety had been purchased at a high price. Both Toby and Mara had endured torture to keep his identity secret. Mara had likely given up the text to buy additional time because she knew Nathan was coming back, but her white knight hadn’t arrived in time. Those damned breakfast sandwiches and coffee . . . Part of him knew he wasn’t being fair to himself, but that didn’t make it any easier.

  Nathan looked at Holly, then to Toby. “You said something to us earlier tonight. It sounded like ‘med hall.’ What does that mean? Are you taking any medications?”

  Toby reached up and grimaced, then let his hand fall. “Metal. I probably said ‘metal.’”

  “I think I know what Mr. Haynes is talking about,” Dr. Thelan said. “Take a look.”

  Toby’s X-rays were on the computer screen. No one said anything; they just stared in stunned disbelief.

  The doctor turned toward Toby. “How did you get this?”

  “Car wreck at Camp Pendleton. I almost died.”

  “Based on what I’m seeing here, I’m feeling pretty good about a full recovery.” She pointed to some small, irregular white spots on the screen. “The bullets fragmented and didn’t penetrate the cranial plate. Titanium?” she asked.

  Toby nodded.

  “We’ll have to remove the pieces, but that’s superficial surgery. Hopefully nothing more will be required. How’s your pain level?”

  “My fingers and nose hurt a little, but I’m okay. I can’t believe I’ll never see her again.”

  In Toby’s apartment, Nathan had seen several indications that Toby was Christian, but now wasn’t the time to say he’d see Mara again.

  “When they find out I’m alive, they’re going to come after me, aren’t they?”

  “We’ll protect you,” Holly said. “Additional agents are on the way.”

  The doctor turned from the computer and looked at Toby. “I don’t want to cut this short, but the neurosurgeon will be here any moment. I still want his opinion on your condition.”

  Holly shook the doctor’s hand. “Thank you, Doctor. We know you didn’t have to do this.”

  “I’m a big fan of law enforcement. My brother’s a deputy sheriff in LA County.”

  Nathan also thanked her and shook hands.

  Holly asked, “Will you please keep our visit confidential?”

  “As far as I’m concerned, you guys were never here. I’ll tell our staff the same thing.”

  “Do you have hospital security guards?” Holly asked.

  “Yes. They’ll see that Mr. Haynes is protected as well as possible until your agents arrive, or SDPD.”

  They thanked the doctor again and said their good-byes. Toby’s glazed expression didn’t change as they left. Nathan felt bad for the big man. His world is shattered. Empty. He’ll leave the hospital alive, but alone. Nathan intended to help Toby get back on his feet, starting with a full-time job—and immediate benefits. He wouldn’t allow Mason to further destroy Toby’s life.

  Walking out of the ER, Nathan looked over his shoulder. “SDPD is going to walk in here any minute. Even though Dr. Thelan said she’d keep our visit under wraps, it’s probably best if I’m not here when they arrive.”

  “Lansing?” she asked.

  “You’re liable to wake him up; it’s just after oh five hundred back there.”

  “He’ll take my call.”

  “You sound certain.”

  “Let’s just say I work closely with him.”

  “Harv thinks I should call my father at the same time you’re talking to Lansing.”

  “That’s a good idea.” She took his hand. “Nathan, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. It’s about my new job.”

  “Yeah, I’ve kinda sensed that.”

  “It’s bigger than I let on.”

  “Okay . . . ”

  “I’m the new chief of staff. I report directly to Lansing.”

  “That’s awesome, Holly. But why the hesitation to tell me?”

  “There’s more. I’ve replaced Special Agent Leaf Watson.”

  “Leaf Watson . . . Why is that name familiar?”

  “He was the FBI’s seat on the CDT.”

  Nathan couldn’t hide his shock. “You’re on my father’s committee?”

  “I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

  “Then why didn’t you?”

  She didn’t say anything.

  “You don’t need my approval, Holly. You know that, right?”

  She nodded.

  “Is that how you know so much about Maso
n and BSI?”

  “Yes.”

  He let go of her hand. “Look, I think we should make our respective phone calls.” He hadn’t intended to put that much ice in his voice, but it happened anyway.

  “Yeah, I think you’re right. We’ll talk about this later, okay?”

  “Sure. No problem. I need to update Harv and take care of Karen.”

  Her expression changed at hearing Karen’s name. “Are you okay?”

  He wasn’t okay. Far from it, but he forced a smile. “I’m fine, Holly. You’re still our eyes in here.” With that, he left the ER’s waiting room. Walking out the front door, he felt a chasm forming. He rounded the corner to get out of Holly’s line of sight and stood in the rain, letting the drops hit his face.

  It was just like his dad to do something like this. He always had to be the big man on campus. A song from Annie Get Your Gun invaded his thoughts. The lyrics mocked him, made him feel snubbed: “Anything you can do, I can do better; I can do anything better than you.” Forget it, he told himself. It’s nothing. But it didn’t feel like nothing. It felt like a betrayal. Maybe that was too strong a word. He didn’t feel betrayed, he felt . . . what? Excluded. Deliberately kept in the dark. But for what possible reason? His father wasn’t known for transparency—all too typical of career politicians. They never showed all their cards. Senator McBride had a pool of more than thirty thousand FBI personnel, and he chose Holly. Why?

  He pushed the radio’s transmit button harder than he wanted to. “I’m on my way back. Two minutes.”

  “Copy, two minutes.”

  “When will our security guards get here?”

  “Ten minutes.”

  “Meet me outside the car; we need to talk.”

  “You got it.”

  Nathan scanned the area as he walked along the sidewalk and tried to put Holly out of his thoughts. She should’ve told him about her new position with Lansing and her seat on the CDT right away. So why hadn’t she? Why hold it back? Being the chief of staff of the FBI had to be an important position, and an even more important stepping stone in her career. He wished he’d handled the news better, but it had caught him by surprise. Thinking about this would have to wait. Right now, he needed to stay focused and get Karen secured with a company car. When he reached the driveway leading to the ER, Harv waved from the parking structure. Nathan returned the wave, then jogged up the ramp to the second level. He huddled with Harv a few car lengths away, where they could still see the ER’s entrance.

  “How’s Karen doing?”

  “She’s been quiet. I’m giving her space.”

  “I spoke with Toby. He didn’t tell Mason about us. Mara didn’t either. We’re lucky Mason didn’t get his hands on Karen.” Nathan gave his friend a quick update on the X-ray he’d seen showing the plate in Toby’s head.

  “God bless ’em,” Harv said. “How did he take the news about Mara?”

  “Not well. We need to get closure for him, Harv. Nothing else will do.”

  “Count on it.”

  “I wanted to ask him more questions about Mason, but the doctor cut us short.”

  Harv nodded. “Where was Holly? You said I, not we.”

  He squinted and didn’t say anything.

  “What happened?”

  “Holly’s new job? She finally told me what it is. She’s Lansing’s chief of staff.”

  “That’s a big promotion. From a SAC to chief of staff?”

  “It gets better. She’s replaced Leaf Watson.”

  “Leaf Watson,” Harv said slowly. “Are you saying Holly’s the FBI’s seat on the CDT?”

  “Yep.”

  “How do you feel about that?”

  “It feels like I’m now sharing the most important person in my life with my father.”

  “Try to see it from Holly’s perspective.”

  “I’m trying, Harv, I really am.”

  “It’s a huge deal for her. She’s now got a position on the most prestigious law enforcement panel in the country. She has personal contacts in every federal agency.”

  “Yeah, I guess. I just wish she’d told me.”

  “Based on your reaction, I can see why she hesitated.”

  Nathan didn’t respond. He didn’t want this distraction right now; he had vermin to kill.

  Harv said, “We’re going to need her help to track down Mason. Are you guys okay?”

  “I don’t know; it got a little chilly in there.”

  “Look, every relationship has friction at one time or another. Everything will be okay. Try not to dwell on it.”

  “I’ll be okay, Harv, thanks. We need to get Karen outta here. Do you mind taking her over to First Security and getting her fixed up with one of our company cars and the directions to the cabin? I need to stay here and watch Holly’s back.”

  “I’m not jazzed about splitting up, but I’m giving it low odds that Mason will make another move against Toby tonight. He would’ve done it by now. I’ll call you from the office when I’m on my way back. Our security guards will probably pull into this structure to park. Let me do this: I’ll contact them and tell them to use their personal vehicles so there’s no visible link to our company. I’ll also tell them to park right here so you can use one of their vehicles if you need it for any reason.”

  “Thanks, Harv.”

  “Here, take these.” Harv handed him two extra mags for his Sig. “I know you’re worried about Holly, but things will work out. It’s just a temporary glitch.”

  “Before you go, I need to—we need to call Senator McBride.”

  Harv sighed. “Okay, but don’t call him ‘Senator McBride,’ and try not to be hostile.”

  “Me? Hostile?”

  CHAPTER 20

  An hour after the ambulance shoot-out, Mason, Hahn, and Darla arrived in the Gaslamp Quarter of downtown San Diego and found the streets abandoned. This place wasn’t Times Square. The second phase of tonight’s operation would be ten times more dangerous than phase one. There was no margin for error. A mistake could mean death for one or all of them.

  Mason parked two blocks east of Alisio’s nightclub and verified they had everything they needed. Each of them checked their waist packs and confirmed they were good to go. If they crossed paths with a cop while they walked over to the club, they were staying in the Marriott and just taking a late-night stroll around the block. Mason knew how to turn on the charm when needed. Aside from the late hour, they didn’t look terribly out of place and they certainly didn’t resemble vagrants. If stopped by the police, the contents of their waist packs would be impossible to explain, but Mason wasn’t worried about a random search—the cops had no reason to suspect them of anything. With all the action they’d created north of here, they didn’t anticipate even seeing a cop.

  As planned, Darla hurried ahead of them to find a good spot to watch the street in front of Alisio’s nightclub.

  The Gaslamp Quarter was composed of older, remodeled low-rise buildings and more modern high-rises. Petco Park, home of the Padres, sat only a few blocks away. Before the redevelopment, this area had been a slum. Now it was a thriving area of retail shops, hotels, and restaurants.

  Their target building sat directly ahead, on the opposite corner of the next intersection. Not surprisingly, all the businesses were closed, even the taverns and bars. As far as they could determine, they were the only people in sight. Reflecting the name of the area, the streets were well lit by old-fashioned gas-lamp streetlights, retrofitted with modern bulbs.

  Darla’s voice came through their ear speakers. “I’ve got eyes on you. I’m behind a white pickup with a lumber rack directly across the street from the entrance to the club. No one’s around.”

  Mason clicked his radio.

  Walking past the main entrance to Alisio’s nightclub, they heard a deep, rhythmic thump coming from th
e inside. Their entry point was around the corner, a five-foot-wide pedestrian walkway between the brick buildings. It also doubled as the delivery access for the nightclub. From their interrogation of Alisio’s man and his South Korean friend earlier, they knew the narrow alley was protected by an iron gate during evening hours to prevent drunks and derelicts from using it as a public restroom. But the gate would be unlocked tonight, just as it was every Monday and Thursday night between 0330 and 0400.

  Alisio’s man had told them he’d witnessed the after-hours exchange many times. The drug dealer would push a button next to the door, and within half a minute, an exterior light would snap on and the door would open. After a ritualistic fist-to-fist greeting, a plastic grocery bag went in and an envelope came out. The delivery boy would then tuck the envelope into his coat and leave the alley. A short time later, a short, stocky guy named Fergie came out and locked the gate to the pedestrian alley. The transaction always took less than thirty seconds. Alisio’s man had been so willing to talk, he’d even told Mason that the blow was top quality.

  Mason looked across the street toward the pickup, offered a compact wave, and received two flashes from Darla’s penlight. “Any sign of our delivery boy?”

  “Negative, all quiet.”

  “Check in as soon as you—”

  “Shit, he’s early! He’s crossing the street at the corner.”

  “How long do we have?”

  “Ten seconds.”

  “No problem. Stand by.”

  Chip sprang into action and opened the gate.

  “I’ll take him,” Mason said. “Go.”

  Chip sprinted down the alley and ducked behind a recycle bin.

  “Darla, give me a countdown from five.”

  His radio clicked.

  Mason flattened himself against the wall of the building. The drug dealer would appear from his left.

  “Five . . . four . . . three . . .”

  Mason went through a mental checklist. He’d done this dozens of times. The key was being aggressive and decisive.

  “Two . . . one!”

  The dealer rounded the corner.

  Mason made his move.

  In less than two seconds, he had his right hand clamped over the guy’s mouth while simultaneously forcing his victim’s left wrist up between his shoulder blades.