by David Archer
Noah nodded. “That should be plenty. Now, all we have to do is make them count.”
* * *
By the time Dawson’s plane touched down that evening, the team was more than ready to effectively follow his movements, tracking him and Renée as he hailed a cab from the airport. Although this one wasn’t driven by an agent, Neil tapped into the dispatcher’s feed and, using two different cars, they were able to follow the yellow taxi easily.
Noah drove one of the cars with Gary as a passenger, while Jenny and Neil took the other. Marco was on a motorcycle once again, keeping the taxi in view while staying back as far as he could. Whenever he lost them for a moment, he would message Renée. She would make a comment about a landmark or something as a way to direct him back onto their trail.
Thirty minutes later, the taxi pulled up at the Alpine Air Hotel, a luxury hotel in one of the ritzier areas of the city. Noah and Jenny drove on past while Marco turned his motorcycle in to the gas station lot across the street.
Marco climbed off the bike and began pumping gas into its tank while he reported to Noah. “Okay, they just took their bags and went inside,” he said. “Their taxi is driving away now.”
“Good,” Noah said. “That means things are in place. Marco, you and Gary will be staying in the hotel with them. Neil, Jenny and I will go to the Marriott down the street. Meet us there, so that you and Gary can get into character.”
“You got it, boss,” Marco said. He topped off the gas tank and replaced the nozzle on the pump, tore off the receipt for the gas and climbed back onto the bike. Five minutes later, he had pulled into the Marriott parking lot beside Noah’s car.
It took less than an hour for Gary to get him and Marco made up and ready to make a move. Marco, a Louisiana Cajun of Italian descent, looked absolutely nothing like himself with blond hair and beard, with startling blue eyes behind stylish glasses. Gary had added two inches of height and ten inches of girth, then applied a mask and hairpiece to age him thirty years. The cover identities Molly had created for this phase of the operation made Gary a reclusive, eccentric billionaire who was known for his rudeness, while Marco was a combination of private nurse and bodyguard.
“I think we are ready,” Gary said, and then he crinkled his face into a glare. “Unless you young people have something else you want to complain about,” he said sarcastically. “I can’t understand young folks these days, doing nothing but griping and complaining all the time, that’s all they do.”
Neil chuckled, but Noah simply raised an eyebrow. “You sound like Robert De Niro,” he said. “Is that intentional?”
Gary blinked. “Well, yeah,” he said in his own voice. “You ever heard anybody who can do cranky like De Niro?”
“I suppose not.” Noah turned to Marco. “Remember, stay as close as you safely can to Renée, but without making it obvious. Dawson may feel possessive toward her, and you can’t afford to put yourself on his radar.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Marco said. “What happens on a mission stays on a mission, right? Any jealousy I might feel won’t be a problem. I’ll just make sure to be listening closely, in case she needs to be pulled out.”
“That’s fine, but don’t pull her out unless she asks for it. This is the best shot we have at getting to Spear. I don’t want to delay it any longer than absolutely necessary.”
Marco nodded, and then he and Gary left. An hour later, he contacted Noah to report that they were checked in to their hotel room, on the same floor as Dawson and Renée.
Renée did not get any privacy, so she wasn’t able to report directly as often as Noah would have liked. On the other hand, she was quite adept at steering whatever conversation she was having into a direction that would allow Noah, Marco and the others to figure out what was happening. She was obviously going to great lengths to keep Dawson entertained with her, and she was enjoying rather significant success.
It was the following morning before the two of them made an appearance outside the room, going to the breakfast room off the hotel lobby. Unlike cheaper hotels that offered a continental breakfast, the Alpine Air had a breakfast chef on duty from five a.m. until eleven, and breakfast made to order was included with the room.
Gary and Marco, given a heads-up by Renée as she asked Dawson about where they were going to have breakfast, were already in the breakfast room when the two of them arrived. Marco had told Renée where they were, but she carefully avoided looking at them as she entered with her new escort.
Ironically, Dawson chose the table directly beside the two of them, and then turned and nodded amicably at Gary.
“Morning, sir,” he said politely. “Nice day, isn’t it?”
Gary glared at him. “It’ll be a nice day when I finally get old enough to not have to put up with this asshole,” he said, pointing at Marco. Marco rolled his eyes in a long-suffering gesture, and Dawson stifled a grin.
“Oh? Is he mean to you?” Renée asked.
Gary looked at her, and his eyes softened a bit as he remained in character. “You wouldn’t believe it,” he said. “He won’t even let me have my cigar. My doctor says I can have one a day, but this young punk refuses to let me have it.”
“Because we’re in a non-smoking hotel, Mr. Constantine,” Marco said. “If you wait until after breakfast, we can go out into the courtyard, where you can smoke.” His Cajun accent was gone, and he sounded surprisingly effeminate.
Gary made a point of turning his attention away from the couple at the next table, so they did likewise. The two men were able to listen to the simple conversation between Dawson and Renée, but there was nothing in it to suggest when they might be going to meet with Dawson’s employer. The only thing they overheard was something about Dawson taking Renée out shopping for the morning.
“Okay,” Marco said softly to his subcom, transmitting to the others, “they just left the breakfast room. They’re going shopping, but I’m sure you already caught that.”
“We did,” Noah said. “I’ve already got Jenny out there to follow. She’s the only one Dawson hasn’t seen up close at least once, but she’s wearing a wig and sunglasses anyway. You need to see if you can get into their room, try to find anything that might give you some clue as to who Spear might be.”
“I’m on it,” Marco said. He and Gary were finished with breakfast anyway, so he got up and pushed Gary’s wheelchair back toward the elevator.
Unfortunately, the search turned up nothing. Marco was careful to make sure everything was put back exactly where he had found it when he entered the room, but he almost took too long doing so. Luckily, Renée managed to switch on her subcom and comment that they were back at the hotel much sooner than she expected, which gave them time to get out before she and Dawson made it up the elevator.
The rest of the day passed slowly, as Dawson and Renée remained in the room, except for mealtimes. For lunch, they went to a small café down the street, while they took dinner in the hotel’s own four-star restaurant, the Matterhorn. To outward appearances, they could have been an average couple, and Renée only tried once to bring up the idea of going to meet Spear.
“We’ll go when it’s time to go,” Dawson said. “Don’t push it, sweetheart. The last thing you want is to become annoying, right?”
She smiled, but the implied threat in his words came through crystal clear.
The following morning, Renée was still sleeping when she felt something move on the bed. Her mind instantly recalled where she was and what was happening as she waited for Dawson to speak. “Are you going to sleep all day?”
Renée opened her eyes and looked up into Dawson’s own. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling down at her.
“It doesn’t sound like that bad an idea,” she said. “Is there a reason to get up?”
“We have a meeting,” Dawson said. “Spear has requested my presence, so we had better be there.”
She sat up on the bed and stretched. “What kind of meeting? Are we finally going
to see him?”
“I don’t actually know if he will be there or not. He heads up the organization, but he isn’t always handling everything himself. We’re supposed to go to the office and check in, probably to receive another assignment. There will at least be someone there who can let him know that you are with me, wanting to meet him.”
She grinned at him, leaning back and propping herself on her hands. “I hope so,” she said. “On the other hand, if I have to go with you on an assignment for a while, that would be a good consolation prize.”
Dawson chuckled. “I’m not sure I can handle you on a long-term basis,” he said. “A man in my line of work has to get some rest now and then.”
She reached over quickly and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him toward her. “You can rest later,” she said. “I have something else in mind at the moment.”
A half-hour later, after a quick shower together, they dressed and left their hotel. A car was waiting for them out in front of the building, and the driver held the door open as they slid into the back seat.
When the door closed, Renée realized that the windows were completely blacked out. A light came on in the passenger compartment and she saw that there was a bar and a selection of edibles. Dawson reached over and picked up a bottle, then held it out to her.
“A good year,” he said. “Will you join me?”
“Of course,” Renée said. Dawson cracked the bottle open and poured the wine, passing the glass to her and then picking up his own.
Renée held her glass out for a toast. “To the wonderful time we’ve had together,” she said. “May it happen again sometime soon.”
“Maybe sooner than you think,” Dawson said. “You haven’t gotten rid of me yet, you know. Spear may not be interested in talking to you. You might just need to stay with me for a while.”
Renée cocked her head and batted her eyes at him. “Now, just a little while ago you said you didn’t think you could handle me any longer.”
“Yes, well, that was a line. A man has to keep a girl flattered, doesn’t he?”
She giggled. “It certainly doesn’t hurt.”
Dawson looked at her for a moment, his own smile broad. “You’re an amazing woman, Abby. I think you are the only woman I’ve ever known who was aware of what I do and wasn’t terrified of me.”
She shrugged. “I’m just too logical for that, I guess. If you decided you wanted me dead, I would probably have been dead before I knew it. No point in worrying about something I can’t control, is there?”
He chuckled. “I don’t think that’s all there is to it,” he said. “There are some women who like to associate with violent men, they get some kind of thrill out of it. I suspect you might be one of those. Am I right?”
She leaned close to him and whispered in his ear. “I suppose you could say I have been known to hang out with killers before,” she said. “They are certainly powerful men, and everyone likes a powerful man.”
The ride in the blacked out car lasted about forty minutes, and then they came to a stop. The door opened once again and the driver stood there, holding it open and looking straight ahead as they stepped out onto the gravel under their feet. There was a house in front of them, a large Southern- looking mansion with four large columns holding up part of the roof over the front porch.
“Gone with the Wind,” Renée said. “Reminds me of that house in the movie.”
Dawson looked at the house for a moment, then turned back to her. “I suppose it does, now that you mention it. I hadn’t really thought about it before.”
He started walking toward the house and she fell in behind. “This is where the organization meets?”
“Not really. It would probably be more accurate to say that the organization was born here, and has already been through several different versions of itself. There are offices deep in the city, but this is where we tend to meet most of the time. Very few people have any idea where this place is. Even I don’t know, which is why I have to rely on the chauffeurs.”
He took her hand and led her toward the house, walking her up the steps onto the grand porch. He never got a chance to ring the doorbell, because the door opened and a distinguished- looking gentleman stood there.
ELEVEN
“It’s good to see you again, Mr. Lancaster,” the man said. He waited until they entered, then closed the door and turned toward them again. “I hope you will understand that we have some construction going on, and ignore the less than aesthetic look of the place. The Director believes there must be a spy in the organization, probably one of the American federal agents. One of the presidential candidates who claims to have knowledge of it has been talking about an organization like ours, and the Director is making some changes to the place in the hope that he might be able to ferret out the intruder, if there is one. Please follow me.”
He led them deeper into the house and into a large room that was set up like an office, but with a round table to one side. When the door shut behind them, the genial attitude lessened slightly. He motioned for the two of them to each take a chair as he rounded the desk and sat behind it. When he had done so, he looked at Renée as if seeing her for the first time.
“Young lady, my name is Joshua. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting Mr. Lancaster to be bringing a guest. May I know who you are?”
“I’m Abby Willis,” Renée said. “I’ve been running messages for you now and then.”
Joshua looked at her for a moment, then turned to Dawson again. “Really, Mr. Lancaster? You’ve been consorting with peripherals?”
Dawson grinned. “You can relax, Joshua,” he said. “There’s a lot more to Ms. Willis than meets the eye.”
“As with any of us,” Joshua said. “However, it’s the parts we can’t see that have the most potential to bring damage into our lives. I’m sure you have done your due diligence, to ensure that she is not some sort of agent?”
Renée burst out laughing. “Me? Oh, you’ve got to be kidding.”
Dawson glanced at her and she caught the scowl on his face, so she got herself quickly under control. “Sorry about that,” she said. “It just never occurred to me anyone could possibly think such a thing.”
“Well, that’s the one thing that we all know far too well,” Joshua said. “The people most likely to be the ones you cannot trust are the ones who seem the most trustworthy.”
“I’m confident that we are safe at the moment,” Dawson said. “Why don’t you just tell us why we’re here?”
Joshua looked at him for a second, then picked up some papers from his desk. “I’m afraid the Director has a new task for you,” he said. “This time, you will be going to Sydney.”
Dawson nodded. “And the target?” he asked.
“Patrick McNealy,” Joshua said. “He is the Australian Banking Association’s deputy director. The Director has been grooming someone to take his place, should anything happen to him. Those plans are now in place, and it’s time for the sad event to come about.”
Dawson took the file that Joshua passed to him and glanced through it, taking a good look at the photographs of Mr. McNealy.
“This guy is a banker? He looks more like a fry cook at a fast food joint.”
“Yes, well, appearances can be deceiving,” Joshua said. “Mr. McNealy is in control of a great deal of the transactional policies of the Australian bankers. Having someone of his own in that position will be of great advantage to the Director.”
“No doubt,” Dawson said. “That would put him in a position to make sure his money gets properly laundered.” He looked up at Joshua again. “Payment through the usual routes?”
“Of course,” Joshua said. “Deposited to your account, the same as always.”
Dawson nodded, then turned to look at Renée once again. When he turned back to Joshua, he was grinning.
“Ms. Willis is interested in meeting the Director,” he said. “She has been working for him off and on for some time now, and is hoping to wo
rk her way into some greater responsibilities. Do you think you can arrange such a meeting?”
“Certainly I could,” Joshua said. “The question is, why should I? As I pointed out before, Mr. Lancaster, we don’t really know who this is sitting beside you.”
“Oh, come on,” Renée said. “How hard is it to go back to your records and see how long I’ve been working for you guys?”
“Now, you see, Ms. Willis, therein lies the problem. While other organizations might keep records of employees, even short-term employees such as yourself, we do not. I’m afraid any record of your assistance to us is only in the memory of the person who recruited you each time you were needed. Since we insist on strict secrecy, I’m confident that you probably don’t even know who that was. Would I be correct in that assumption?”
Renée made a face and stuck her tongue out at him. “That doesn’t help,” she said. “No, I didn’t know his name. He just called me up when he needed something, and he always paid half up front. For the kind of money he was paying, I’ll do pretty much whatever I’m asked to do.”
Joshua gave her a sarcastic grin. “I have no doubt that this is true,” he said. “After all, you seem to have attached yourself to Mr. Lancaster. And I must say, that truly does surprise me. Mr. Lancaster is not one who normally allows such familiar association.”
“Maybe I just got tired of being alone,” Dawson said. “That does happen to some of us, you know.”
Joshua shot him a look, but said nothing. A moment later, he turned back to Renée.
“Unfortunately, young lady, I will not be able to help you to achieve your desires. First, I would be reluctant to do so in any case, but then there remains the fact that the Director is not in the country at this moment.” He turned to Dawson. “In fact, he will be waiting for you in Sydney.”
Dawson nodded as if he was not surprised. He turned toward Renée and smiled. “I guess you’re stuck with me a little while longer,” he said.
