Andrew sent him a wink.
“We’ve been around a long time and have people in every major country. You’ve signed on with the winning team, Ryan.”
“That’s good to know.”
Twenty minutes into the drive Andrew received a text that made him laugh.
“The police stopped one of the decoy vans we left in the area.”
“Decoy vans?”
“Three vans matching the description of this one were in the area with instructions to speed through the streets. The cops caught one of them and arrested the three men inside. The men will say nothing, and the cops will assume they caught us.”
“But the men have alibis for the time of the robbery, don’t they?” Tanner asked.
“That they do. The most they’ll be charged with is speeding. In the meantime, the cops have called off the search for us.”
Tanner looked down at Officer Jemma Ricci and saw her deflate. If she had been buoyed up by the thought that her fellow officers were in pursuit of the van, her hopes had just been dashed.
Enzo drove within the speed limit. Less than an hour after leaving the bank they arrived at what would be their hideout. Tanner had expected a hunting cabin or a farmhouse. Instead, they were entering the grounds of a walled estate with a house that sat on a hill overlooking gardens.
Enzo had to use a swipe card to get the black wrought-iron gates to swing open, afterward, he drove the van along a cobblestone driveway that was over a thousand feet long.
“Who owns this place?” Tanner asked.
“Someone sympathetic to our cause, and we’re to leave everything as we find it. No petty thievery here, Ryan.”
“I hear you,” Tanner said. “And will we be alone here or are there servants around?”
“The place is all ours, however we have to leave by six a.m.”
Behind the main house was a guest house and a swimming pool. The guest house was over two-thousand square feet and there was a building that looked like a barn behind it. Enzo drove to the barn and Andrew asked Tanner and Vinchanzo to get out and open the doors.
Tanner did as asked and unlatched the doors before swinging the left one open. The inside of the barn was empty but there was a pile of hay in one corner and several stalls that looked as if they’d seldom been used.
Once the van was inside the barn, Tanner and Vinchanzo closed the doors, then latched them from the other side.
The side door of the van opened, and Andrew stepped out along with Enzo. Enzo was carrying the two canvas sacks of money while grinning like a fool.
There was a folding card table near the spot where they parked. Everyone removed their earbuds and placed them upon it, along with the nylon masks and Officer Ricci’s purse. Inside the van, Ricci began kicking at the walls. When the others turned to look in her direction Tanner reached into her purse. He had been hoping to get his hands on her gun. It wasn’t there, and he assumed Andrew had already claimed it. As he was removing his hand from the bag, his fingers brushed against a familiar object, a handcuff key.
Tanner had one hidden on his person, however, removing it from its hiding place might be noticed by the others. Tanner palmed the key as a plan formed in his mind.
“What do you want to do with the cop?” Vinchanzo asked Andrew.
“We’ll wait a while in case we were followed here somehow. If no one shows up, we’ll kill her and bury her in one of the fields.”
“I thought we were supposed to leave everything as we found it?” Tanner said.
“Did you see how much land surrounds this villa?” Andrew said. “If we do it right, no one will notice the grave.”
They were standing near the van, near enough so that Andrew’s voice carried to Jemma Ricci’s ears. The young cop began sobbing and the sound caused Enzo to laugh. The sobs ceased but were replaced by muffled words.
Officer Ricci was issuing a string of Italian curses; they were unintelligible because of her gag. When she began pounding on the side of the van with her feet again, Tanner feigned anger and headed toward the van.
“I’ll quiet the bitch down.”
“Good man,” Andrew said, “but leave her breathing when you’re done. I don’t want to kill her yet.”
Tanner jumped up into the van and began making threats of violence toward Ricci. At least, that’s what it sounded like from outside the van. From Ricci’s perspective inside the vehicle, despite his harsh words, Tanner was giving her hope.
As he spouted threats and obscenities at Officer Ricci, Tanner was showing her the handcuff key he’d found in her purse. Ricci’s eyes lit up with newfound hope, and as Tanner continued yelling, he reached behind her and pressed the key into her palm. He then whispered into her ear while speaking Italian.
“I’m working undercover. Free your hands, and don’t leave the van until I call to you.”
Tanner removed the knife he carried, showed it to Ricci, and set it beside her.
He mouthed the word, Urlare, to Ricci, telling her to scream, then he brought his hands together to simulate the sound of a hard slap.
Ricci let out a muffled scream and pretended to cry. When he left the van, Enzo was smiling at him.
“You really hate cops, don’t you?”
“No, not really,” Tanner said. He placed a solid punch into Enzo’s throat. The blow sent the man stumbling back into Andrew and the two of them crashed onto the card table. One of the table’s cheap metal legs gave way and Enzo and Andrew tumbled to the floor of the barn.
Tanner took two steps and kicked Andrew’s head as if he were trying for a winning field goal. The impact made Andrew’s head jerk violently while stunning the man into unconsciousness. Meanwhile, Enzo was gasping and choking. Tanner’s punch had caused enough damage to make the young man no threat.
Andrew wore a Glock in a shoulder holster. Before Tanner could free the weapon, he was forced to avoid a fierce kick sent his way by Vinchanzo. The bricklayer had once claimed to possess fighting skills, and so he did.
Tanner avoided two more kicks that were aimed at his knees, and ducked below a roundhouse kick. Vinchanzo was skilled but slow. When Tanner came out of his crouch he slammed a fist into Vinchanzo’s crotch.
Vinchanzo let out a huff, placed a hand on his stomach, and fell to one knee. Tanner grabbed the gun from Andrew’s holster, turned, and shot Vinchanzo in the forehead. Enzo, still struggling to take a normal breath, made it to his feet and stumbled toward the closed doors. Tanner shot him once in the back of the head, then fired two rounds into Andrew’s chest.
“It’s safe to come out now,” Tanner said.
Officer Ricci peeked her head out of the van and looked around with eyes filled with wonder. Duct tape was still sticking to her pants, but she had used Tanner’s knife to free her legs.
“Why did you kill them?” she asked Tanner.
“It was either that or let them kill you.”
“You could have held them at gunpoint.”
“Guns aren’t for pointing, they’re for killing. Besides, if they’re dead they can’t tell what happened here.”
Ricci stepped from the van, then leaned back against it as if she were having trouble standing. The adrenaline rush she’d felt at hearing the shots had combined with her fear to leave her weak-kneed.
“You’re not Italian, are you, Signore?”
“No, you might say I’m a foreign agent.”
“Thank you for saving me. I thought I was going to die.”
“You’re welcome,” Tanner said, as he looked down at Andrew, the man who was going to be his key to getting to Owen Bishop. Now he was back to zero and had to think of a way to salvage things.
One or more of the corpses’ bowels emptied, filling the barn with the stench of human feces. Tanner removed Andrew’s phone, then he opened one of the barn doors and stepped outside with the gun leading the way. Officer Ricci followed him outside, and touched him on the arm.
“Signore?”
“Yeah?”
> “May I use that phone, so I can call in?”
“Yeah, although before you do that, we need to talk.”
“About what?”
“I have a plan that might keep my cover in place,” Tanner said, “but I’m going to need your help.”
Jemma Ricci moved closer to Tanner and stared up at him with eyes filled with gratitude.
“I’ll do as you ask. If not for you, I’d be dead.”
“Good. Now I have to make a call.”
“To your superior?”
“I’m sure she thinks of herself that way,” Tanner said, and dialed Benedetti.
16
North To Alaska
Durand’s travel arrangements for their Alaskan trip hit a snag when the jet they were using needed maintenance. He and Sara were in Seattle for refueling when the problem came to light and they were forced to spend the night there while a part was acquired and installed.
Their rooms were in a four-star hotel that offered a grand view of the Space Needle. Sara had slept on the flight west, as had Durand, and although it was after midnight in Seattle, neither felt like sleep. The hotel bar was still open, so they decided to have a late drink.
“Have you heard from Tanner?” Durand asked.
“No, and I don’t expect to. For all intents and purposes, he’s acting as a spy. I told him I didn’t want him endangering himself by risking a call home.”
“But you miss him, I can tell. You look down at your engagement ring frequently.”
“Yes, I miss him, and his absence is something else I owe Hanover for.”
“This man he’s after, Owen Bishop, he comes off as compassionate in the videos his organization produces. Recently, Interpol has suspected his group has a dark side and a hidden purpose, I see those suspicions are true, or else the CIA would have no interest in him.”
Sara smiled. “If your contacts learn anything useful about Bishop it would give me an excuse to call Tanner. I’ll only risk it if it’s important.”
“I know something about the way the CIA works. They would have sent a handler along with Tanner. Whoever that person is, I would guess they’re learning that Tanner plays by his own rules.”
“They did send someone with him. She’s a woman named Vanessa Benedetti.”
“A woman?”
“Yes, and I understand she’s good looking.”
“Perhaps she’ll try to charm Tanner into cooperating.”
Sara laughed.
“From what Tanner has told me, Benedetti is devoid of charm.”
“Asshole! A complete and utter asshole is what you are, Tanner,” Benedetti shouted over the phone. “Through sheer luck you managed to get in good with Bishop’s organization only to turn around and slaughter the men who could help you rise higher. Are you an idiot?”
Tanner looked over at Officer Ricci. The young cop was standing out of earshot while wiping tears from her eyes. She had come very close to dying and knew it.
“I told you, Benedetti, they were going to kill a cop. I had to stop them.”
“Why? For one damn cop? Getting that data drive from Bishop would be worth the life of a hundred cops. You’ve now ruined any chance of this mission being a success.”
“I haven’t. In fact, I have a plan that will salvage things and get me closer to Bishop.”
“That would be a miracle.”
“No, I’ll just have to take a chance and run a bluff.”
“Tell me your damn plan, and it better be good.”
Two hours later, Tanner was inside the van and preparing to leave the villa. Officer Ricci had spoken to Benedetti and assured her that she would go through with Tanner’s plan. Benedetti, through the CIA, was going to communicate with her intelligence counterparts in the Italian government.
Benedetti told Tanner it would cause embarrassment to confess they had an operative working on Italian soil but admitted the news would go down better since Tanner saved the life of one of their police officers. That, along with an incentive, was enough to get the Italian authorities to work with the U.S.
The official story would be that Ricci had managed to escape on her own. Her escape took place while Andrew and his people were attacked by two men whom they had greeted as friends.
Tanner had a similar tale to tell. He had Andrew’s phone and was hoping to use it to make contact with the man’s superior.
Jemma Ricci leaned into the van and kissed Tanner on the cheek.
“Good luck with your plan, and please stay safe.”
“I will.”
“Thank you again for helping me. Arrivederci, signore.”
“Goodbye,” Tanner said.
When he’d arrived back in Rome, Tanner ditched the van in the parking lot of a store after wiping it down thoroughly. After gathering his belongings from the rooming house, he took a taxi to the restaurant where he had met with Andrew, then took a seat at the bar.
Tanner had gone through Andrew’s phone and found three numbers in the call history that were dialed frequently. Two of the numbers had also called Andrew frequently over the last twenty-four hours. If messages had been left, Andrew had deleted them.
The first number was answered by a woman. After she’d said, “Hi, Andy,” with an Italian accent, Tanner assumed she was a girlfriend. The second number kept ringing and offered no voice mail option. When the third number was picked up, Tanner heard a man speak English with an American accent, and the man was angry.
“Andrew, where the hell have you been lately?”
“This isn’t Andrew. My name is Steve Ryan, perhaps Andrew mentioned me?”
The other man said nothing. Tanner got the impression he was thinking over his response. He also remained silent since he had no idea if he’d had made contact with Andrew’s superior or someone else. When the other party spoke again, his voice was cautious and laced with suspicion.
“Why are you using Andrew’s phone, Mr. Ryan?”
“I’d like to discuss that in person,” Tanner said, then gave the man his location.
The man informed Tanner that he would be there within the hour.
Forty-eight minutes later a man walked into the restaurant flanked by two other men. They had serious expressions on their faces as they scanned the tables. Tanner stood at the bar. After gaining their attention he gestured at a table in an area where no one else was seated. In his left hand Tanner was carrying a gray backpack.
The man in the middle of the three men was a man with dark hair, blue eyes, and a nose that looked like it belonged on a toddler. It was the smallest nose Tanner had ever seen on a man and it made the guy’s cheeks look swollen. The man nodded once, then spoke to his companions. The other two men took seats at the bar and turned their stools around to stare in Tanner’s direction. The two had ordered beer as they sat at the bar, and when the drinks came they ignored them.
The man with Tanner said nothing as he sat at the table. He ordered a whisky from the waitress, while telling her they wouldn’t need a menu. Tanner had been sipping on beer, which he’d carried to the table when he’d moved from the bar.
The man with the tiny nose waited for his whisky, and while he waited, he studied Tanner.
“You’re not Italian, are you? You had no accent on the phone.”
“I’m an American, like you.”
The whisky came, and the man took a sip, then displayed pleasure at what he tasted.
“You have a story to tell me, Mr. Ryan?”
“I do.”
“Then tell it.”
“What’s your name?”
“I’m Scott Langren. If I don’t like your story you may not live to see tomorrow.”
Tanner swallowed hard, then took in a deep breath. If Langren thought he was intimidated he would consider him less of a threat.
“My story starts at the protest rally the other day…” Tanner said, and went on to recount his talks with Vinchanzo and Andrew. When he began telling Langren about the bank robbery, the man held up a han
d.
“You’re talking about the robbery that took place earlier today?”
“That’s right,” Tanner said.
Langren stood while reaching for his phone. “Stay here. I’ll be back in a minute.” Langren spoke to his two friends for a moment before stepping outside to make a call. While he was gone, the two thugs at the bar glared at Tanner. Tanner wouldn’t meet their eyes, so they would think he felt menaced by them. In reality, he had already mapped out a plan to kill them if it became necessary.
Langren returned six minutes later with a changed expression. The man looked confused, and perhaps angry. He retook his seat and gestured impatiently at Tanner.
“Finish your story. What happened after the robbery?”
Tanner kept to the truth until he reached the part where they had arrived at the villa, then he began telling the lie he’d concocted.
“Andrew had me walk the cop out to one of the fields. I was to make her dig her own grave, then kill her. She still hadn’t seen my face at this time, since she had been blindfolded in the van, and I had worn a nylon over my face afterward.”
“Why did you care if she saw your face? You were going to kill her anyway.”
Tanner gave a little shrug.
“I’ve never killed a woman before and I… I don’t know… I just didn’t want her looking at me.”
Langren made a sound that might have been a laugh, and told Tanner to continue.
“She had started digging when I heard a vehicle. It was a dark sedan, maybe blue or black. Two men got out of it. The doors of the barn opened, and I saw Andrew and one of the men shake hands, then they went into the barn. It was only a few seconds later when I heard the shots.”
“How many shots?”
Tanner hesitated a moment, as if to recall the memory.
“Four shots, one, then another one, then two quick ones. Andrew had given me the cop’s gun. I was going to shoot her before checking out the barn, then I realized I’d be giving myself away if I fired. When I moved toward the cop to hit her, you know, to knock her out, the bitch almost nailed me with the shovel. That’s when I realized I had to make a choice. I could stay with the cop or go help Andrew. Besides, I figured we could track her down before she ran into anybody else. We were in the sticks.”
The Spy Game Page 8
