Deep Allegiance

by David Archer

  A new window opened on the monitor and Neil began scrolling through hundreds of file folders. He typed a command into a search box, and one of those folders suddenly opened up.

  “Oh, boy,” he said. “Noah, for some reason I can’t figure out, ASIS sent Ambassador Jamison an email this morning giving him the location of the safe house where they took McNealy. That’s what he got into.”

  “Get the address,” Noah said. “Let’s go. That’s where we’ll find our friend Dawson.”

  * * *

  Dawson had ditched the car only a few minutes after leaving the embassy, leaving it in a parking lot where he had stashed another vehicle the night before. His hunch had paid off and he knew where Patrick McNealy was being kept, supposedly safe. It was time to teach the Australians a lesson about that subject.

  He switched cars and headed toward the safe house, pulling up and parking the car a couple of hundred yards away. He climbed out of the vehicle and reached into the back seat for a cane, then leaned on it as he walked along the edge of the street. The house was just up ahead, and was easy to spot because of the two men who seemed to be lounging nonchalantly in the front yard.

  Both of them watched him as he approached, and he gave them a friendly wave and smile. They both waved back, and that’s when the cane snapped up and belched twice. The built-in silencer made it sound more like a piece of meat hitting the ground than a nine millimeter slug leaving the barrel of a specially built rifle, and one bullet took each of the two men through the bridge of the nose. They both dropped instantly, and Dawson dropped the cane—it only had two shots available, anyway—and snatched out a pair of pistols as he ran up the stairs and kicked in the front door.

  Two more guards inside, a man and a woman, fell instantly. McNealy was sitting on the couch watching television, and let out a scream as Dawson approached him.

  “But why?” McNealy begged. “What’d I do?”

  “Nothing,” Dawson said. “You were just in the way.” The silenced pistol in his right hand coughed, and McNealy stopped worrying about why this stranger wanted him dead.

  * * *

  Neil typed for a couple of seconds and the address suddenly chimed on Noah’s cell phone in a text message. He slammed the computer shut and jumped to his feet, with Jenny and Gary following. They hurried out the door and out of the building, got into their car and were gone only moments later.

  The safe house was near Croydon Park, and it took Noah nearly twenty minutes to get them there. By the time they arrived, it was obvious that they were too late. The place was surrounded by police cars, and there was a pair of sheet-covered bodies in the yard in front of the house.

  “We’re too late,” Neil said. “He had a ten minute head start on us, at least.”

  “He hasn’t gone far,” Noah said. “He’s not that far away yet.” He closed his eyes and tried to think for a moment, putting himself into the killer’s shoes. A couple of seconds later, his eyes snapped open, and he looked up and down the street.

  A car was pulling away at the opposite end of the block. Noah took his foot off the brake and pressed the accelerator, making the car lurch ahead and launch into pursuit.

  “That’s him,” Noah said. “Be sure to get a grip on something, because the ride is about to get rough.”

  NINETEEN

  The Holden Commodore ahead of them was whipping through the streets, and it didn’t take Noah long to realize the car was not the standard model. Fortunately, neither was the Toyota that Noah was driving, and the four hundred horsepower V6 engine was screaming as Noah gave chase.

  In the passenger seat beside Noah, Gary was clinging to the grab handle over the door, while Neil and Jenny were bouncing around in the back seat.

  “Are you sure that’s him?” Gary asked.

  “It’s him,” Noah said. “He was watching us from the moment we arrived. When he realized I was looking around for him, he took off.”

  The Holden fishtailed around the corner and Noah followed in the Toyota. The Holden was a heavier car, and while it had a bigger engine than the Toyota, the power to weight ratio gave Noah’s car the advantage. Bit by bit, he was gaining on the Commodore.

  Dawson, looking in the rearview mirror, realized that as well. He made another left turn and then spun the car around, so that it was facing back the way it had come. He slammed it into reverse and floored the accelerator, keeping it moving at a fair percentage of its original speed, driving backward by using the rearview mirrors.

  With one hand on the wheel and his eyes bouncing between the mirrors and the Toyota that was coming straight at him, he powered down the driver side window and lifted the pistol from his lap. He aimed it out the window, pointing it directly at where he expected Noah to be sitting and squeezed the trigger twice.

  The windshield of the Toyota had a significant slant to it, and Dawson’s bullet bounced off. Noah jerked the wheel to the left, and then back to the right, as Jenny let out a screech in the back seat.

  “That son of a bitch!” she shouted. “How dare he shoot at us!” She quickly unfastened her seat belt and powered down her own window, then leaned out with a pistol in each hand and began returning fire.

  Dawson’s windshield was more vertical, and one of the bullets passed through it and barely missed him. His eyes shot open wide and he ducked as low as he could while still being able to see the mirrors, then whipped the wheel to the right and spun the car around again, slamming it back into drive. His foot slammed down on the accelerator once more, and he kept his head low as three more bullets came through the back window of the car.

  One of them was low and nicked his left ear, and the sudden shock caused him to duck even lower. He instantly realized that he’d made a mistake, but by the time he popped back up over the dashboard, it was too late. The right front corner of the Holden clipped a car and he went into a spin that ended with the back of his vehicle smashed against a tree at the edge of a park.

  Noah slammed on the brakes and slid to a stop just in front of Dawson’s car, and Jenny kept both pistols trained on the killer as Noah got out and ran toward him. Dawson had one hand on his bleeding ear, and the other was still clinging to the steering wheel. He had dropped his weapon in the middle of the spin.

  Noah snatched open the door and grabbed him by the front of his jacket, pulling him out of the car.

  “Hello, Mr. Dawson,” he said. “I have a young lady who wants to have a talk with you.”

  TWENTY

  It had only taken Neil a few minutes to find an abandoned building listed online, and it wasn’t far away. With Dawson sandwiched neatly between Noah and Jenny in the back seat, Gary drove them to the location as quickly as he could. The ride lasted almost half an hour, but the building was perfect. It was isolated, and had a large bay door that allowed them to drive the car right inside. Noah had the lock picked within seconds and the door was closed behind them only a minute later.

  Noah climbed out, dragging Dawson behind him, then led the man to a post and held him while Gary secured his wrists behind it. Dawson was still doing his best to appear unconcerned, but there was a stiffness in his muscles that belied his nonchalance.

  His composure began to crack, however, when Jenny stepped up in front of him. The twin karambit daggers in her hands were twirling, spinning so fast that the blades were almost invisible as she whirled them around her fingers, but it was still possible to see what they were.

  “Jenny is my interrogation specialist,” Noah said. “I’m going to ask you a couple of questions, and I want straight answers. If you give them to me, I won’t turn her loose on you. If you don’t, she’s going to enjoy herself.”

  Neil had stepped out of the car and was standing beside Jenny. “Here’s a tip,” he said to Dawson. “There is nothing you want to see less in the world than her smiling when she has those knives in her hands. Trust me on that.”

  Dawson shrugged, his lips curving slightly in a grin. “You’re going to kill me in any case,” he s
aid. “What makes you think you’re going to be able to make me talk beforehand?”

  “I haven’t failed him yet,” Jenny said, licking her lips. “You can save yourself a lot of pain and suffering if you answer his questions, but...” She paused, licking her lips again. “I really hope you don’t.”

  Dawson blew her a kiss, and Noah reached out and took hold of his chin, turning it back so he could look the man in the eyes.

  “Spear,” he said. “Tell me who he is and where he is.”

  “Now, what kind of a man would I be if I did that? One of the most important things a guy like me offers to his clientele is anonymity. If I go giving them up, nobody’s gonna want to hire me in the future.”

  “As you mentioned a moment ago, you do not have a future,” Noah said. “Or I should say that your future is not very long. You can avoid making it extremely painful by answering my questions. Who is he and where is he?”

  “He’s the devil, and he lives in hell,” Dawson said. “And I’ll be sure to tell him hello for you when I get there.”

  Noah stepped back and released his face, then nodded once at Jenny. One of the daggers flashed and the tip of it sliced just underneath Dawson’s bottom lip.

  “UNGH,” he said, shaking his head at the sudden burst of pain. “Geez, woman, are you crazy?”

  “Damn right,” Jenny said. “And I’m just getting started. Did you know that the lips are one of the most sensitive areas on the body? They’re not the most sensitive, contrary to popular opinion, however. Would you like to guess where that is?” The tip of one of her daggers snagged in the crotch of his pants.

  “Sure, go for it,” Dawson said. “Like I said, I know I’m going to die. I’m just going to enjoy the look on your faces when you don’t get the information you want.”

  Jenny pulled upward on the dagger and the sharp inner curve of the blade sliced through the fabric. She was careful not to let the blade touch his skin just yet, but his underwear was suddenly visible through the gap.

  Dawson swallowed hard. “That’s gonna suck,” he said, “but it’s not going to make me talk.”

  “Then how about this,” Noah said. “How about a chance to stay alive?”

  “Noah?” Neil asked, with Gary gasping beside him. “Are you nuts?”

  “No,” Noah said. “And we can always use someone with Mr. Dawson’s talents. How about it, Dawson? You tell us what we want to know, and we not only won’t kill you, we’ll keep you in the line of work you enjoy. There’s always room for someone like you in our organization.”

  “Organization, huh? You’re an American, so that tells me you probably work for E & E. What makes you think I would believe they would have any use for me?”

  “I have enough influence to guarantee it,” Noah said. “Even though you killed Mr. Jefferson, your cooperation right now could get you a reprieve. If you come to work for us and don’t get stupid, you could have a lot more years left in you.”

  Dawson’s tongue shot out and tasted the blood that had splattered onto his lips from Jenny’s cut, and then he looked at Noah again.

  “I know little bit about your organization,” he said. “Most of your torpedoes are rank amateurs, but you do have a couple of serious talents among you. Thing is, there’s only one that I’ve heard of who might have that much influence with the Dragon Lady who runs the place.” He grinned when Jenny’s eyes went wide. “What? You didn’t think that moniker got out about her? Most of the intelligence community knows who Allison Peterson is, and anything they know trickles down to people like me.”

  “In that case,” Noah said, “you will know the name of that one assassin who could keep you alive. Does Camelot sound familiar?”

  Dawson’s eyes darted back to meet Noah’s. “Are you saying that’s you?”

  “I’m saying that’s us,” Noah said. “Team Camelot. These people work with me, and you can have a team just like them to help you accomplish your missions.”

  Dawson looked into his eyes for a moment longer, then shrugged. “I won’t say it isn’t a tempting offer, but what makes you think I would believe it? If you know I killed Jefferson, you probably want my head as badly as the Dragon Lady herself does. I understand she had a little bit of a thing for him, is that right?”

  “You watch your mouth,” Jenny shouted, but Noah waved a hand to tell her to stop.

  “We all do,” Noah said. “That doesn’t change the fact that your talents and experience could be useful to us. If you cooperate in helping us to shut down your employer, Allison will honor my promise to keep you alive and put you to work.”

  Dawson stood silent for several seconds, then cocked his head to one side. “If I go along with this,” he said, “half of the professional killers in the world will be looking for me. If they find me, you lose your new associate. How do you plan to handle that?”

  “A new identity,” Noah replied. “Caleb Dawson, or whoever you really are, will be found dead. You become someone else, and your appearance can be altered enough to keep anyone from ever recognizing you.”

  Dawson licked a bit more of the blood. “That leaves us with only one serious problem.” His eyes flicked to Jenny. “I don’t necessarily think you have enough control to keep her from finishing what she started with my lip.”

  Noah looked at Jenny. “How about that?” he asked. “If I tell you to stand down, are you going to do it?”

  Jenny glared at him for a moment, then lowered her eyes. “I won’t like it,” she said, “but I’ll do it.”

  Noah looked at Neil and Gary. “What about you? Do you obey my orders?”

  Neil nodded. “I always do,” he said, but Gary just looked at him for a moment.

  “Donald Jefferson is the one who brought me into this business,” he said. “He was not only a mentor, he was a friend. If you do this, Noah, I’ll go along with it, but I don’t ever want to work with this son of a bitch.”

  Noah nodded once. “Fair enough,” he said. He turned back to Dawson. “I’m becoming impatient. You can either accept my offer now, or I’m going to tell Jenny to go ahead and get the information her way.”

  Dawson glanced at Jenny and blew her a kiss. “All right,” he said. “I’ll accept. You want Spear? The first thing you need to understand is that it’s not one man. Spear is a group, and the man who runs it is called the Director.”

  “Our understanding was that Spear was an individual,” Noah said. “There’s been no indication that it was a group of any kind before now.”

  Dawson shrugged. “Then perhaps your intelligence was wrong.”

  “Tell me who the director is, then,” Noah said. “How do we find him?”

  “I don’t actually know his name,” Dawson said. “I’ve met him a few times, but only as the Director. He’s never given me any other name.”

  Noah stared at him for a second. He had been almost convinced that Dermot Calloway had to be the man he was after, but this information was throwing them in a whole new direction.

  “Then how do we arrange to meet him?” Noah asked. “How do you make such an arrangement when you need to?”

  Dawson grinned. “I make a phone call,” he said. “That’s all it takes.”

  Noah cocked his head to the side and looked at him. “And who do you call? Who is the person you contact who relays the request?”

  “There are several numbers I can call,” he said. “My primary contact is a man named Joshua, in Atlanta, but there are several others I can reach.”

  Noah looked him in the eye for a moment. “And you are willing to make an arrangement, to bring him to where we can get to him? Is that what you’re telling me?”

  “Considering the alternative,” Dawson said, “I think that would be prudent on my part. The only condition I want to put on this is that I get to be the one to take him down. If anything goes wrong, I’ll be looking over my shoulder the rest of my life, no matter how short it might be. If he’s got to be taken down, I want to make certain it’s done properly.�
��

  “I’ll consider it,” Noah said. “If you want to kill him so badly, why have you never done it before?”

  “I never had a reason,” Dawson said. “On the other hand, if I’m going to come in out of the cold, I want to be absolutely certain he can never tell anyone that I’m still alive. I don’t care how much you make it look like I just disappeared, there are plenty of people who would believe him if he said I was still running around. I’d never be able to escape one of them finding me, sooner or later. I’ll take your deal, but I have to be the one to make certain that he is dead. That work for you?”

  “I’ll kill him myself,” Noah said. “But you can be with me when I do it.”

  Dawson shook his head. “Not good enough,” he said. “I want to be close enough to see the light go out of his eyes. Those are my terms, take it or leave it.”

  Noah hesitated again, looking him in the eye once more. “When did you last see him?”

  Dawson grinned. “Just last night,” he said. “He was at the embassy when all the fun went down, but he’ll be gone by now. I’m sure he probably had a flight scheduled already, so his departure won’t look suspicious.”

  “Then he could be at the airport,” Neil said. “Come on, Noah, we don’t need this bastard. I can figure out who it is.”

  “I don’t go back on my word,” Noah said. He pointed at the bloody wound just below Dawson’s lip. “Gary, see what you can do about that cut. We need to go catch a plane.”

  Gary spat on the ground, but then he opened the trunk of the car and got out a first aid kit. The cut wasn’t as bad as it looked, only about an inch long, so he smeared antiseptic cream on it and then covered it with a thick adhesive bandage. It looked silly, but at least it stopped the bleeding.

  They got back into the car and drove out of the building, then headed toward Sydney Airport, the international airport that served the area. It was almost forty-five minutes away, and they resumed their original positions, with Gary driving and Jenny and Noah serving as bookends around Dawson.