by Jason Dean
‘Colour-coded departments,’ Bishop said. ‘The lower floors are Accounting, I think. They’ve got access to the other accounts levels, but nothing beyond that. Close Protection was green and took up three floors somewhere in the early twenties. Same deal, with no access to other floors. There were nine in total, I remember.’
‘Unless they added more while you were away,’ Luke said. ‘Who knows how old these plans are?’
‘Let’s assume they’re current,’ Aleron said, walking in with the rest of the printouts in his hands. He sat down in the room’s only other chair. ‘Bastard’s done his research, I got to give him that. I’ve already lost count of how many problems we’re up against here.’
Bishop turned and leaned against the wall. ‘If it were easy,’ he said, ‘Thorpe would have done it already. What kind of window we looking at?’
Aleron looked up. ‘Seems all that money hasn’t changed Royse’s work ethic any; unless he’s got overseas business he keeps fairly regular hours. Gets in at eight, leaves at nine in the evening, seven days a week. So unless you’re planning to go in right now, we got a three-hour window tomorrow between nine and midnight.’
Bishop tapped his head lightly against the wall, eyes raised to the ceiling. ‘Cutting it fine.’
‘Razor thin,’ Aleron said. ‘And it gets worse. Building’s got forty floors and, penthouse aside, each one’s got at least six armed watchdogs on constant patrol. Count on at least twice that many on the first floor. We got fingerprint scanners and CCTV everywhere, including in the elevators, and they only go as far as the thirty-ninth floor. Then we got more cameras in the stairwells, which do actually go up to the fortieth, but then you’re faced with an inch-thick steel fire door that doesn’t open from that side. And, yeah, I know that’s illegal, but it seems Royse makes his own rules and screw anybody who doesn’t like them. And if you’re thinking of crawling around the air vents like they do in the movies, forget about it. At their widest, you got twelve square inches to play with and nobody’s that skinny.’
‘All that’s for keeping intruders out of the main building,’ Bishop said, and saw Luke turn from his screen to listen. ‘We don’t want anything below the fortieth, so we use the roof access, same as Royse.’
‘Right,’ Aleron said. ‘Which then presents its own set of challenges. Luke, what can you show me?’
Luke swivelled round to search through the folder he’d downloaded. Bishop and Aleron came over to stand behind him. ‘All I got,’ he said, ‘is a single aerial shot of the building.’ He clicked on an icon and the screen was filled with a high resolution image of a skyscraper’s flat roof.
‘Thorpe must have been thinking the same thing and hired a chopper to make a flyover,’ Bishop said. He rested a palm on the worktop and leaned in, taking note of every detail. From the position of the shadows, Bishop guessed the photo had been taken some time in the late morning. The top five floors were in view and showed reflective glass running around the building, except for the south side of each odd-numbered floor, where windows were replaced by concrete. Most of the roof itself was taken up with the various air conditioning systems and two plain utility buildings. He could also see intricate scaffold pulleys on the north and south sides.
But the most notable feature was the large green circle that had been painted on the east side of the roof, with a white H inside it. Just above that was a sloping concrete structure, jutting out of the roof at a fifteen degree angle like a giant wedge. Bishop figured it was the entrance to the penthouse. The vertical end of the wedge was partly shrouded in shadow due to the overhang that extended out a couple of feet at the top and sides, but Bishop could see it contained a door shape. Next to it was a wall device that could have been a keypad or intercom.
Aleron nodded as he took in every part of the photo. ‘Yeah, it matches up with his notes,’ he said, and pointed at the shadowed part of the entrance. ‘See here? Numeric keypad by the side to get in. And although you can’t see it in this shot, there’s another closed circuit camera just under the overhang, covering the helipad and a large part of the roof area beyond it.’ He moved his hand over the area in front of the entrance. ‘They’ve also got motion sensors built into every inch of the roof except for the actual helipad itself. Once Royse leaves that circle he’s got sixty seconds to reach the door and key in his code before he trips the alarms.’
Bishop leaned back against the wall and rubbed his scalp. ‘Those scaffold pulleys there. How often do they get their windows cleaned?’
Aleron smiled. ‘Thorpe checked that, too. Apparently, they got two guys on retainer. They’ve been through a thorough security check and get paid a good salary to be available at a moment’s notice. The Local 2 Union doesn’t even get a look in. Everybody knows them by sight and they don’t use replacements.’
‘All right.’ Bishop turned to Luke. ‘Aleron told me you used to be a real hotshot hacker back in the day.’
Luke kept his eyes on the screen. ‘If that’s what he said.’
‘As good as Jenna?’
He was silent for a moment, then shook his head. ‘Nobody is.’
‘Okay. So how are you with numeric keypads?’
‘Huh. They’re duck soup if you’ve got time to play with them. I got a program that’ll interface with the keypad’s programming port, then run a number sequence until it hits the right combination. No way it can be done in sixty seconds, though. Ten minutes, minimum.’
‘Fair enough,’ Bishop said. ‘The main problem is once we get in, how to break into a vault we know nothing about. I already told Thorpe I’m no safecracker, for all the good it did me.’ He turned to Aleron. ‘Tell me he’s not throwing us in blindfolded. He must have found out something we can use.’
Aleron shrugged. ‘Only that RoyseCorp has an open-ended contract with Ulysses for all its safes. He’s also seen a large vault in the basement for paperwork too sensitive to store in cyberspace. Also made by Ulysses.’
Luke said, ‘So, what, we’re just gonna gamble on Royse’s vault being the same make?’
‘I don’t think we’ve got much choice at this point,’ Bishop said.
‘Hey, look, I been thinking,’ Aleron said, biting his bottom lip. ‘A year ago I helped out a guy in your situation who wanted the full makeover. But when it came time to pay up he was a couple thou short. I let him go with a promise I knew he wouldn’t keep, but a few days later his brother paid me a visit to thank me personally. A useful guy to know in the safe business. Said if I needed a favour in the future he might be able to help out. You know, lend a hand. He gave me a cutout number I could reach him with. His name’s Wilson.’
Bishop raised an eyebrow. ‘I might have heard of him, if it’s the same Wilson.’
‘I haven’t,’ Luke said, frowning. ‘Who the hell you talking about?’
Aleron turned to him. ‘You remember that nationwide manhunt a few years back after thieves made off with fifteen mill from the Pacific Continental in Seattle? It was the main story for about a week.’
Luke nodded. ‘This Wilson was one of them?’
‘The one who got them into the bank vault, if you believe the rumours. The cops couldn’t pin anything on him. He had people who swore he was in another state when it happened, just like on every other job he’s pulled in the last twenty years. It sure is good to have friends, ain’t it?’
‘So people tell me,’ Bishop said. ‘Okay. Set up a meet for me tomorrow if you can.’
‘Got it.’ Aleron paused. ‘How did Jenna sound when you spoke to her?’
‘Unharmed, I think, but totally out of it. Hard to tell on what, exactly. Some kind of opiate, maybe, to keep her passive.’ Bishop frowned. ‘You think you could you get your hands on some naloxone?’
‘Maybe. If I knew what it was.’
‘It’s a drug that reverses the effects of narcotic poisoning, assuming that’s what he’s given her. Sometimes it’s called Narcan. Try to get a hypo of the stuff; it’ll look like the ones they
use for insulin. In fact, get two. We’ll need to get Jenna moving quickly when the time comes. It might make all the difference.’
‘Consider it done,’ Aleron said. ‘But there’s still a couple more issues. Like that camera above the entrance.’
‘Leave that with me,’ Luke said. ‘But I’ll need your help, Ali.’
‘You got it. Which just leaves the small problem of getting up onto the roof in the first place. Bishop?’
Bishop was staring at one of Luke’s movie posters, his thoughts on what Jenna had said at the end. ‘Kyzatoo’, it had sounded like. Then he thought of that line on the Willow Reeves letterhead. The part about it operating under the aegis of the Kebnekaise Corporation. Kebnekaise, too. Was that what she’d been trying to say? Turning to Luke, he said, ‘See if you can find out about something called the Kebnekaise Corporation when you get a spare moment, okay?’ He spelled the name. ‘Probably nothing, but I want to make sure.’
‘All right,’ Luke said.
‘I was saying we still need to get to that roof, somehow,’ Aleron said. Bishop pushed off against the wall. ‘That’s my department,’ he said.
SIXTY-FOUR
Thorpe removed the last padlock and raised the shutters to the underground parking lot at the dilapidated five-storey office building on East 3rd Street. He waited as Danny steered the van into the darkness. With a last look at the quiet street outside, he closed them again and used the same padlocks to seal them from the inside.
They were excellent locks. Military grade. Made by Sargent and Greenleaf. Supposedly resistant to every form of attack, including liquid nitrogen. Retailed at over a thousand bucks apiece. Thorpe had bought them at a considerably lower price and exchanged them for the old ones four years ago. There weren’t many hidey-holes left in Manhattan these days, but this was a good one to keep handy for emergencies and he didn’t need undesirables finding their way in.
He got back in the passenger seat and they continued down into the subterranean garage. At a push, he figured there was enough space for forty, forty-five vehicles. At the going rate for parking in this town, it was probably worth as much as the real estate above them. He was just glad the owners were still locked in a divorce court with all their assets frozen. He’d be sad if they ever settled.
The van came to a halt in the far corner of the lowest level, outside a one-room structure that had housed the car park attendant in better days. Danny cut the engine, but left the headlights on. Leaving Jenna in Danny’s capable hands, Thorpe walked into the office and found the portable industrial lamps. He turned them both on, placed them on the ground in opposite corners of the room and examined his surroundings.
An ancient radiator sat against one wall. In front of the glassless window was an old desk and chair. The butane stove and portable heater were both new. Thorpe had brought them when he brought the lights. The room would do for the next twenty hours or so before he moved Jenna to another location he had in mind. Storing a kidnap victim in the same place for too long was just asking for trouble.
He looked up as Danny came in with one arm around the girl’s waist and sat her down next to the radiator. Thorpe pulled a pair of cuffs from his pocket and attached her right wrist to the steel pipe that disappeared into the wall, making sure there was little leeway around her wrist. While Danny walked back to the vehicle to retrieve some supplies, Thorpe joined Jenna on the floor with his legs outstretched, back against the wall. Taking her left hand in both of his, he watched as she slowly raised her head and looked at him.
‘Sorry for the drab surroundings, Jenna,’ he said, ‘but it’s for the best. I need to know you’re safe and sound for the next few hours and nobody’ll bother you here.’
‘’Cept you.’ She attempted to wrest her hand from his before finally giving up.
‘Not me, I’ve got work to do. Danny here will be taking care of your immediate needs, so be a good girl and you’ll be treated accordingly. I should add that the reverse also holds true.’
‘Why?’ Jenna asked, her eyes barely open.
Thorpe looked at her and knew the question referred to more than her current situation. But if she expected him to pour out his motives to her, in her condition, she was mistaken. It would just be dead air and it would take far too long, anyway. Besides, pointless navel-gazing had never been his thing, although he wasn’t averse to the occasional dip back into the past to relive a specific triumph or success. He supposed the Brennan operation qualified as a success of sorts. Despite not actually finding the file he’d been searching for, he certainly came out of the mess no worse off.
If you ignored the arm injury that forced him out of the field, that is. He definitely hadn’t planned on that. But then, he hadn’t been planning on remaining a bodyguard for much longer, anyway. Not when he had a new mission in life that outweighed all other considerations.
Which reminded him. Thorpe took the cell phone from his pocket. He keyed in a number he’d memorized and waited for the ringing tone. He didn’t have to wait long for an answer.
‘Yes?’
‘It’s Martin,’ Thorpe said.
‘Martin. I did not recognize the number.’ Although the words were clear, the accent behind them was thick.
‘I change numbers a lot. It’s safer that way.’
‘So. I didn’t expect to hear from you again, my friend. I had long given up.’
Thorpe smiled. ‘I told you I’d find a way and I have. I expect to have it within twenty-four hours. It’ll be available to you shortly after that. Assuming you still want it.’
‘Of course we do, my friend. But I am thinking why you are calling me now instead of twenty-four hours from now. When you will know for sure.’
‘Well, I’ve decided the price is now double what we originally agreed. I imagine you’ll need time to get the funds ready.’
‘I see. Double, you say?’ The foreign man sounded amused. ‘Considering the sum we agreed on, I would think that is unlikely.’
‘You should think of it as a priceless wine that only gets better with age. Don’t tell me you didn’t expect some kind of renegotiation with the passing of time?’
‘Little surprises me, to be sure, but that is not the same thing, is it? And I do not drink wine.’ The line went silent for a few moments before he added, ‘I will have to consult the others.’
Thorpe stroked Jenna’s head and said, ‘I’d expect no less, my friend. But don’t consult too long. There are plenty more fish in the sea, especially in your part of the world.’
‘You will get a definite answer very soon,’ the man said. ‘This I promise.’
‘Until then,’ Thorpe said and ended the call.
He leaned his head back until it touched the wall and closed his eyes. Not long now. He knew they’d go for it. They had to. And with Cortiss dead, he wouldn’t even have to share the spoils.
SIXTY-FIVE
When Cortiss first approached him with his proposal and the bare bones of a plan, Thorpe and the rest of the team were in LA, helping to keep that suicidal Newmarket bitch from getting her head blown off.
It had been a while, but Thorpe remembered the ex-spook from his DEA undercover days working for the Cattrall drug cartel. Their paths had crossed only once, but the man had impressed Thorpe as someone with absolutely no morals who’d do just about anything for money. This time, when he told Thorpe about the existence of the forty-year-old file, what it contained, and what they’d need to do to get their hands on it, Thorpe came on board immediately. He knew a great opportunity when he saw one.
Of course, it also helped that Randall Brennan’s daughter shared certain similarities with Fiona Stretton. The first girl he’d ever felt anything for. And the last. The resemblance was clear in every photo Cortiss showed him. The long black hair. The spray of freckles across the cheeks. The large, blue, condescending eyes. The contemptuous turn of the mouth. It was really remarkable. And it wasn’t too long before his desire for Natalie Brennan matched his desire for th
e file itself. He saw absolutely no reason why he couldn’t have both.
He and Cortiss worked together on the plan over the ensuing months, going over every step in detail, refining it to the point where absolutely nothing was left to chance. Then, when their next assignment after Newmarket came to an end and the team were sent home for some well-earned rest, Thorpe and Cortiss began their hate campaign against the Brennan family in earnest. And as Cortiss had predicted, Brennan bypassed the cops entirely and went straight to his old partner, Morgan Royse. Demanding round-the-clock protection for himself and his family. The best men available. Which just happened to be Bishop and his team. Who just happened to be in between assignments right then.
It wasn’t until they all showed up at the Long Island house to meet their new principals that Thorpe finally got to see Natalie close up. Physically, she was everything he’d hoped for and he found it hard to take his eyes off her. They were all in the living room and he was watching her coolly inspect each of them when her gaze fell upon Bishop. And then her eyes lit up. The almost feral desire in her expression left little doubt as to what was going through her mind, and at that moment Thorpe’s resentment of Bishop moved up another couple of notches.
Right from the start, he and Cortiss had agreed they’d need a patsy for everything to work. Cortiss didn’t care who, as long as it was somebody from the team. After Seattle, Thorpe already had a good reason to nominate Bishop for the role. Natalie’s attitude towards him merely confirmed the decision.
All in all, it took Thorpe almost two months of subtle manoeuvring to get her into bed. Most of the time they used the room above the garage, and for a while there it was like he was actually with Fiona again, but without the verbal abuse and the humiliations she’d subjected him to throughout their brief, and ultimately tragic, relationship.
