Takedown (An Alexandra Poe Thriller)

by Robert Gregory Browne

  He sank to the sofa and leaned back. “The three guys from the lobby?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Did you tell them about me?”

  “No,” she said. “Should I have?”

  “I don’t want to be stepping on anyone’s toes. Things can get ugly that way, and I don’t like complications.”

  She laughed, set the bottle on the counter, and began searching the cupboards for wine glasses. “I’m new, remember? I barely know these guys.”

  “You don’t know me at all.”

  “Yet I already like you better. Besides, two of them are gay and the other one’s married.”

  “Okay, I’ll give you the gay guys, but the married one, trust me, he’s checking you out. He’d be crazy not to.”

  She found the glasses and set them on the counter. “You really like to say what’s on your mind, don’t you?”

  He shrugged. “I’m a man of many faults and few regrets.”

  “You’re also good for a girl’s ego.”

  He grinned again. “I aim to please.”

  “And I aim to drink.” She tore the foil from the bottle, removed the crown, and popped the cork. As she poured into the first glass, she dipped her free hand into her robe pocket and thumbed the cap off the bottle of pills.

  “Go easy with mine,” he said. “I wouldn’t want you taking advantage of me.”

  She laughed again, then took the hand from her pocket and dropped a pill inside the glass as she poured. From his vantage point on the sofa, Favreau couldn’t see a thing, and by the time she crossed to him, the pill had completely dissolved.

  She handed him the doctored drink. “What shall we toast to?”

  He raised his glass. “To gay guys, married men, and painfully gorgeous women.”

  They clinked glasses and drank and she sat next to him, close enough that their thighs were touching. He put a hand on her leg and a small shiver of revulsion ran through her. She hoped Cooper had been right about the pills. The faster this happened, the better.

  He finished his drink in two long gulps, set his glass on the table, and turned to face her. He took her glass from her hands and set it next to his.

  “I’m not finished with that.”

  “Finish it later,” he said, then pushed her against the cushions and leaned in to kiss her. His breath smelled of mints and tobacco and champagne, and Alex braced herself for impact, silently cursing McElroy and Cooper and even Warlock and Deuce. But most of all, she cursed herself for saying yes to this nonsense.

  What had she been thinking?

  But before his mouth could touch hers, Favreau got an odd look his face and said, “Jesus, that champagne is stroooo…”

  Then collapsed against her chest.

  CHAPTER 19

  “HE’S OUT,” ALEX said, then climbed out from beneath him as the others emerged from their rooms and joined her at the sofa.

  Patting him down, she took out his cell phone and handed it to Warlock, who turned it on and scrolled through the menu. “It looks like a burner and he’s wiped the memory. Nothing of use here, but I’ll put a tap on it so we can monitor his calls.”

  Alex removed Favreau’s wallet, quickly thumbed through it and found two hotel key cards, several hundred euros, a French ID card with his name, address, and date of birth, and a handful of credit cards, each with a different name.

  Warlock looked hopefully at the wallet. “Any SD chips? Thumb drive?”

  “What you see is what you get.”

  “No real surprises so far,” Cooper said. “He’s not stupid enough to keep the codes on him. We need to get past his perimeter alarm and search his suite.”

  Warlock gestured to Favreau’s pockets. “Check to see if he has any keys.”

  Alex found a ring full of them and handed it over. “What are you looking for?”

  He searched a moment then held up what looked like a key fob. “This. It deactivates the alarm.”

  “Then we’re in,” Deuce said.

  “We’re in,” Warlock told him.

  They breathed a collective sigh of relief, then Cooper gestured to Deuce. “Let’s get him into Alex’s room and get his clothes off.”

  “Dude,” Deuce groaned.

  “Stonewell’s paying you double, remember?”

  “Yeah, but still…”

  “Hey,” Alex said, “at least you didn’t have him on top of you with his tongue wagging in your face. I’ll never get those few seconds back.”

  Deuce grunted and grabbed hold of Favreau’s ankles. “May I reiterate, if I’m ever near a poker game again, just shoot me, okay?”

  “Believe me, it’s already on the list.”

  Cooper took Favreau by the armpits. “Alex, you start the search while Warlock’s rigging the suite. We’ll get over there as soon as we can. And play nice, all right?”

  Warlock and Alex exchanged a look. He showed her a tight, tobacco-stained smile and wagged a finger at the wallet in her hands. “Be a dear and grab one of those key cards, luv. We may as well make this as painless as possible.”

  As they approached Favreau’s suite, Warlock pressed a button on the fob he’d found and they heard a faint beeping sound from the other side of the door.

  “That takes care of the perimeter alarm. He’ll never know we were here.” He gestured to Alex. “Card.”

  She handed him the key card, but when he ran it through the slot, the light flashed red, refusing them entry. He tried again and got the same result.

  Alex sighed. “I’m really starting to hate technology.”

  “If it weren’t for technology, you’d still be cleaning your teeth with twigs, and squatting in the dirt to spend a penny.” He handed her the defective card, and pulled out his souped-up permanent marker. “And don’t forget, there’s always this.”

  Uncapping the device, he poked the end into the hole at the bottom of the lock mechanism. The light flashed green and the latch unlocked.

  He grinned. “And here you were ready to give it all up and go back to nature.” He gestured to the key card in her hand. “Make sure you return that to his wallet. Not that it’ll do him any good.”

  “Just get inside,” she said.

  Warlock picked up his case full of surveillance goodies and led her into Favreau’s foyer. Except for the size, the suite appeared to be identical to theirs. He pointed to the mirror above the table and said, “I should be able to rig a camera behind there without it being obvious. It won’t be the best angle but at least we’ll get a view of—”

  “Do whatever you have to. Just get me inside the safe first.”

  “With all due respect, breaching that safe is a waste of energy.”

  “What makes you so sure he didn’t put the codes in there?”

  “You’ve spent a bit of time with the man. Does he strike you as someone who’s careless?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Then why would he leave his most valuable bargaining chip in a hotel room safe? That’s much too obvious and not even remotely secure.”

  “Do me a favor and open it anyway.”

  “On one condition.”

  Alex willed herself to be patient. “And what would that be?”

  “You buy me a new pack of snouts.”

  She frowned. “I’m starting to think you should come with subtitles. Say what?”

  “Fags. Ciggies. They don’t come cheap, you know.”

  “They’ll also kill you,” she said. “If I don’t do it first.”

  He shrugged. “My grandmother smoked two packs a day and lived to be ninety-five.”

  “She obviously didn’t spend much time around you. Will you please open the safe?”

  “I don’t have to,” he said. “You can do it yourself.”

  “And how am I supposed to do that?”

  He smiled. “Every hotel safe has a default password in case the guest forgets his, and it’s rarely changed from the original factory setting.”

  “You’re
kidding.”

  “Go to the keypad, tap in six zeros, and open sesame.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Give it a try.”

  “How can you be sure they didn’t change this one?”

  “Because it worked on ours.”

  She studied him a moment, thinking he must be pulling her chain, then turned and crossed to the alcove in the living room.

  After opening the cabinet door, she looked at the small, rectangular safe built into the wall, and wondered how in God’s name a hotel could be so lax with its security. If doors and safes were so easy to breach, what was the point in staying here? People might as well pitch tents, fire up a generator, and save some money.

  She tapped six zeroes into the keyboard, and as promised, the safe beeped and the latch released. She opened the door, found a single sheet of paper, and pulled it out.

  It was a handwritten message:

  Tell your boss the price is now double.

  She stifled a laugh. The note was obviously meant for Valac’s men, in case they decided to get greedy and tried to rip him off before the deal was complete.

  But Warlock had been right. No sign of the codes.

  So now what?

  She returned the note to the safe, and as she closed the door, it occurred to her she needed to lock it again or Favreau would know somebody had been inside. But how would she do that without overriding his password?

  “Hey, Warlock,” she said.

  He called out from the foyer. “Six ones. He’ll never have a clue.”

  Apparently the Brit was a mind reader, too. She tapped six ones on the keypad, heard the reassuring thunk of the lock engaging, then turned and looked around the suite, wondering where Favreau could have hidden the damn codes.

  “So help me out here. How do you think he’s storing the data? SD card?”

  Warlock came out from the foyer carrying his case full of gear. “My guess would be a micro SDHC, which is small enough to hide just about anywhere.” He held up his left thumb and forefinger to indicate size. “But his equipment is consumer grade, the kind you get from a high street spy shop, so I’m inclined to think he’s the type who goes in for hidden compartments in fizzy drink canisters or toothpaste tubes. You might try the loo or maybe the kitchen cupboards.”

  She nodded, then spotted a computer on the coffee table. “What about his laptop?”

  “It’s worth a look, but I’ll clone the drive before we leave.”

  As Warlock went into the bedroom, Alex crossed to the computer, crouched in front of it and opened the lid. It came to life showing a page from the website for Travel Planet Lifestyles, her own face smiling out at her above a pair of breasts and shoulders that definitely weren’t hers. The Photoshop wizards at Stonewell had put her in a bright red bikini on a beach somewhere tropical, microphone in hand.

  Thanks again, guys.

  The bio accompanying the photo claimed that Alexandra Barnes had been a runner-up in several regional beauty contests, had a degree in journalism, and was the newest addition to the TPL roster.

  It was all very convincing.

  Alex checked the computer’s SD slot, but it was empty. She closed the lid, flipped it over and checked the screws on back, but there was no sign of any wear or tampering that might indicate something was hidden inside.

  She looked around the suite again, and thought she might as well have been searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack. In a movie or spy novel she would have found the codes by now, but fiction didn’t always reflect reality, a point proven by this goat rodeo of an op.

  Alex’s whole life was a testament to the fact that nothing ever comes easy.

  And she had a feeling this would be a very long night.

  “How much time before he wakes up?” Deuce asked.

  Favreau was heavier than he looked, but carrying him to the bed had been the easy part. Getting the clothes off a guy who was nothing but dead weight had been another thing altogether, an experience Deuce could have done without.

  Favreau wore tighty whities, for godsakes.

  Nobody should ever wear tighty whities.

  Cooper draped a sheet and blanket over him and said, “The drug should last until morning. McElroy says the chemists at Stonewell really know their stuff.”

  “Remind me to make friends with those guys. You think Favreau will suspect anything?”

  “He’ll wake up groggy and hung over and wondering what the hell happened, so we’ll have to convince him he had the best night of his life.”

  “And how are we supposed to do that?”

  “By filling in the blanks. Just follow my lead when the time comes.”

  Deuce nodded and they crossed to the door, turning out the light as they left Alex’s room.

  “I gotta be honest with you,” he said. “This op is giving me no joy. Alex is like a little sister to me, and I don’t feel all that comfortable seeing her dress her up like a Barbie doll and putting her in this kind of situation.”

  “She’s a big girl and can handle herself better than most. Look what she did to Warlock.”

  “Yeah, I know, but you’re feeling it, too, aren’t you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Deuce chuckled. “Come on, Shane, you think I’m some dummy who isn’t paying attention? I saw the way you looked at her when she got off that elevator tonight.”

  “You were looking, too.”

  “It’s not the same and you know it. You’ve been looking at her like that since I first met you.”

  Cooper went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Alex and I may have gone through a lot of shit together in Baghdad, and yeah, we’re friends, but that’s as far as it goes.”

  “So why did you almost go ballistic when her real estate agent showed up?”

  “I was concerned about our cover being blown. Favreau was sitting right across from them.”

  “Or maybe you were reacting to what the guy said about them having a wonderful night together. Sounded to me like they did a little more than talk about property values.”

  Cooper huffed and grabbed a Coke from the refrigerator door. “That’s none of my business. Or yours, either.”

  “But you’ll check into him, won’t you? You’ve probably already given McElroy the heads-up.”

  Cooper shrugged. “That is my job. Gérard’s a complication. And you know as well as I do that I’d be compromising the mission if I didn’t take a look at him, find out if he’s who he says he is.”

  “And if he is?”

  Cooper popped the top of the Coke can and took a sip. “Then we chalk it up to one of life’s crazy coincidences and hope he stays out of our way.”

  Cooper was doing a good job of maintaining his cool, but Deuce had been around him enough to understand his body language. And while the mouth was saying one thing, the rest of him was clearly on defense. Deuce had poked at a wound the guy couldn’t hide. Not from him, at least.

  “Listen,” he said, “I only bring this up because I think you’re a pretty decent dude and I feel your pain.”

  “You got it all wrong, man.”

  “Yeah? Alex never discusses her love life with me, but I just want to say that if she ever decides to hook up with somebody long term, she could do a lot worse.”

  Cooper sipped his Coke. “Coming from you, that’s a ringing endorsement. But I’m telling you, there’s nothing to this, okay?”

  “Whatever you say. But I’ve got a feeling that seeing her in that dress kinda solidified it for you. Because she does clean up good.”

  Cooper sighed. “Oh, for chrissakes, will you give it a rest already?”

  “I’m just sayin’.”

  “If you want the God’s honest truth, Deuce, the real object of my affection is you.”

  Deuce was momentarily thrown.

  “That’s right,” Cooper went on. “Didn’t you hear what Alex told Favreau about us? Man bait is what you are.
It’s the Hawaiian shirt that solidified it for me.”

  Deuce gave him a look, then grinned. “My old man was hardly ever sober, but when he was, you know what he always said to me?”

  “What?”

  “Don’t knock anything ‘til you’ve tried it at least once.”

  They both laughed.

  Cooper finished his Coke and set the can on the counter. “On that note, why don’t we go give my new girlfriend and Warlock a hand?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  They searched Favreau’s suite from top to bottom looking for a data chip of one kind or another—every cupboard, every drawer, every closet, every nook and cranny. Under sinks, behind air conditioning grates, between mattresses, sofa cushions, under throw rugs, tables, table legs, and lamps. They searched every inch of Favreau’s suitcase and clothing, including the lining, before carefully returning each item to its proper place.

  And they found nothing.

  No canisters or tubes of toothpaste with hidden compartments. No secret pouch sewn in the hem of a jacket. No false bottom in a bag—

  —Not. A. Thing.

  They gathered in Favreau’s living room at three a.m., exhausted after a long night, and Cooper finally called it. “That’s it, we’re done. Looks like Warlock was right. Either Favreau’s storing the information somewhere off campus or on the cloud. This almost makes me miss Istanbul.”

  Warlock said, “No worries, mate. If it’s on the cloud, he’ll have to access the data through his computer and I’ve already cloned it. If there’s a connection point, I’ll find it.”

  “But what if you don’t?” Deuce said. “We’ll be up a creek without a motorboat.”

  Alex shook her head. “Sooner or later he’ll sew up the deal with Valac and make his move. We’ll just have to be there when he does.”

  Cooper nodded and said to Warlock, “How are we on cameras?”

  “Two in every room.”

  “And his jammers?”

  “I found one in here and one on the nightstand. I reprogrammed them to let our feed through.”

  “Won’t he notice?” Deuce asked.