He didn’t want to think of the other, glaring possibility. Couldn’t. Not now.
The elevator sped upward. It was a lousy tactical maneuver, approaching through the most predictable entrance. But they knew he was coming anyway, and he couldn’t risk Sonia’s life on some harebrained scheme of infiltrating the offices through stealth. He would have to play this by their rules.
The doors slid open, but there was no one waiting for him.
The lobby was dark, the halls glowed with a minimal amount of fluorescent ambience.
The shot missed him by half an inch, tearing into the plaster near his ear. He turned automatically and fired into the adjacent hallway, the origin of the damn-good shot. A small scream, and Diamond knew that his bullet had found its mark. The shadow of the fallen gunman could be seen crumpled and twitching twenty feet away.
So this was how it would be. A straight-forward ambush. Kind of cut short the need for suspenseful negotiation.
Sonia was all he could think about. He suddenly realized she was not here. Of course not. They had never planned an exchange, just a simple assassination. They knew he would come in hopes of finding her here. Diamond knew this himself, yet he had no choice. Well, here he was.
Diamond moved past the corpse of the gunman, his own .45 close and fire-ready. He hugged the walls, listening, and suddenly realized he was only a few feet from his brother’s large office.
He entered the office which was illuminated only by Marshall’s desk lamp. The place was empty.
A hand fell on his shoulder.
He turned, gun cocked.
Marshall dropped his hand, then slumped to the floor. Diamond fell to his knees, but gave one quick glance to the outside corridor, still mercifully absent any gunmen or other activity.
Marshall tried to speak.
“Quiet, Marshall,” Diamond said, opening his brother’s jacket. Blood gushed into his hands. One glance at the wounds told Diamond what he already suspected by the look on Marshall’s face. His brother was dying. Diamond counted three entry gunshot wounds, stomach and chest.
“Sorry, Lou,” Marshall managed at last. “Sorry—for everything.”
“Oh, Marshall,” was all Diamond could muster, his hand instinctively touching his brother’s shoulder.
“Should never have brought you in,” Marshall continued, blood seeping out of his mouth. “Didn’t—didn’t think you’d push so hard. Open and shut case. That’s what it should have been.” He closed his eyes, took in a raspy breath, then almost smiled at Diamond. “So simple. So … simple.”
Marshall reached out and touched Diamond’s hand. Then the hand dropped again. This time forever. Diamond tried to stifle the choke in his throat and failed. “Marshall,” he whispered, closing his brother’s eyes.
His peripheral vision caught the figure coming through the door. His senses immediately kicked into combat readiness, grief obliterated for the moment. His own gun came up, though he did not fire.
In a split second, he identified the intruder.
It was Linda Baylor.
She was dressed in black jeans and a tank top. She moved slowly, as if knowing that Diamond was there, watching, ready to fire on her if necessary. He could not see her face, simply recognized her figure, the perfection of it, the familiarity.
“Hello, Lou,” she said into the darkness.
The light from Marshall’s desk began to infuse itself into the room. In another moment, the details of Linda’s face blurred into focus for Diamond. He stood, gun aimed at her, tears drenching his eyes.
He moved toward her like a panther. She did not flinch as he grabbed her. Suddenly, just behind her, he could see the two other gunmen come from around the corner. He literally threw her behind himself as he aimed his own weapon, firing.
The lead gunman took the first shot in the head, his face blowing apart, taking his nearby associate completely by surprise. The second gunman was armed with a some kind of submachine gun and he was able to discharge a few shots before Diamond took him down with two rounds to the heart.
Quiet again. Diamond breathed hard—fear, adrenalin, and rage galvanizing his strained senses to maximum potential.
He heard the unmistakable sound of a weapon being cocked behind him. He had momentarily forgotten about Linda Baylor.
He turned slowly.
She was pointing a .357 at him. By her stance and the way she held the weapon, Diamond could tell she was a pro. Impressively, so. He was not surprised. He hadn’t been surprised by much in the last few days.
Except that he was still alive.
THIRTY-TWO
Giles knew that Bobby and Silver were dead. It wasn’t exactly the revelation of the ages. He could hear the voices of Diamond and Linda Baylor down the corridor. More fun still to come.
My god, he really wanted to talk to Diamond. Say hello, tell him of his admiration. He’d like that. Yet Giles suspected it would never, could never, come to that. With a guy like Diamond you ended things quickly. Or he would end you even quicker.
Giles steadied himself and took in a long, measured breath.
Showtime.
“Did you kill Marshall?” Diamond asked Linda quietly.
Linda shook her head back and forth. “No. They did. Like me, they had orders.”
Diamond clutched his weapon at chest level. He expected Linda to order him to drop it. She didn’t.
“And Marianne Simpson?” Diamond continued.
Linda was crying now. “Yes. And Jason Randall. They were my sanctions.”
Oh, Christ. Sanctions.
“What about Robert August?”
Linda sniffed, cleared her throat and fought for control. “Robert August was their hit. I was responsible only for Simpson and Randall.” She stared at Diamond, waiting for a reply. But Diamond’s face was stony, his eyes inscrutable. “How long did you know about me?” Linda finally asked.
“I didn’t. I thought it was Marshall. All Marshall,” Diamond said.
“Your friend tell you that?”
“Turner. Yes. He’s dead, you know,” Diamond said, unable to conceal his rage. “Who’s your employer?”
“I was recruited right out of law school. There was no file on me for awhile. This was my training period.”
“Jesus Christ,” was all he could muster.
Linda let him have his moment of rabbit-punch-to-the-gut astonishment. He took a breath and shook his head.
“Do you know what Arc-Link really does, Linda? Or are you just a gun for hire?” he asked.
“Chemical and biological weapons research and development,” she replied without hesitation or inflection. A practiced litany. “Its sole contractor is the United States Defense Department.”
Diamond took one step forward. “Did you know that they sell the shit to other countries? Countries that are supposed to be our enemies?”
“I know,” Linda said quietly. “Politics, Lou. It’s all politics.”
Suddenly, her gun came up, frighteningly fast. Lou tried to match her for speed and failed. She yelled at him. “Down!”
Something in Diamond understood what she was doing. He hit the floor and did not try to return fire. She fired twice. He rolled and faced the direction of her shots. He saw Preston Giles fall to the floor then crawl around a corner. Diamond turned to Linda, his face a mask of astonishment.
“He’s one of yours. Why?”
“They’re not mine!” Linda spat back, her face red with fear and fury. “They just have me on a string, that’s all! Faceless big brother, Lou! Don’t you get it?”
Diamond continued to stare, his mind a whirl of options. He was still holding his gun.
“They trained me. Gave me money,” Linda said quickly, as if time itself was her personal enemy. “I was broke after law school. I had a baby. I was supposed to come in as a clerk. But I tested so high on their entry exams—”
“Arc-Link, you mean,” Diamond said.
“Yes. I tested so high … they offered me …
other options,” her voice suddenly sounded deflated.
Linda seemed suddenly exhausted. She was crying now, unabashedly. Her gun hand began to waiver. “In the beginning, it was almost … exciting. I liked the edge. Learning to shoot, playing at being … some kind of secret agent. Plus, I was paying off student loans and making more money than a first year partner in any law firm in the country.”
She stared at him now, wiping her eyes clean with her free hand. “I went on my first job. My first … kill. It scared me.”
“Because you liked it,” Diamond blurted out, suddenly understanding the composite personality and working mechanism of Linda Baylor.
“Yes,” she said simply. “And because of that I knew I wanted out. But you don’t just leave Arc-Link Industries. They made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
“What was it?”
“They’d protect my little girl,” she said with a hiss. “Forever.”
Diamond studied Linda Baylor in silence. “A lot of gray area with that, Lou. Don’t you agree?”
Diamond nodded. He understood. They had blackmailed her, using her child to stay within the corporate circle. Bastards, he thought.
“Where’s Sonia?” he asked.
“With Patsy. They’re safe,” Linda said quickly. “I convinced them that I would take her here, as a pawn to use against you. They were wrong.”
“Where is she, Linda? God damn it –“
“She’s with a friend of mine, back at the house. She baby sits Patsy now and then.”
Diamond sighed inwardly. At least his daughter was safe. He didn’t doubt that Linda had done her best to protect both her daughter and his from Arc-Link. He may doubt everything else about her, but not that.
“They can get you, Lou,” Linda kept talking. As if she needed to keep on talking, to explain. “At anyone. Their resources are unlimited. They make the IRS look like Jehovah’s Witnesses.”
“Ark-Link is an outside agency,” Diamond said. “There’s a file that can indict them for a dozen violations. I have it—”
“Don’t be so goddamned naïve, Lou,” she suddenly screamed. “They’re fucking God. Indestructible. I know. I know! I sold my soul to them!”
Diamond listened to things out in the corridor. It was silent at this point. He wondered if all the gunmen had been killed. Doubtful, he thought. There must be more, lurking someplace, biding their time. Waiting to see if Linda would finish things up fast and proper.
“Why kill Simpson and Randall?” Diamond asked. “And then her husband?”
“Jason Randall and Robert August were counsel for Arc-Link. They were privy to all of its dirty laundry. Arms sales to Iraq, chemical weapons to Syria, submachine guns to Al-Qaeda, the works. They decided to blackmail Arc-Link. To the tune of a hundred million dollars.”
“So they were terminated,” Diamond said.
“We—I tried to keep it simple,” Linda said, recovering somewhat from the momentary crying jag. “Tried to make it look like a jealous husband getting revenge against a faithless wife. I would have succeeded—”
“Except for me,” Diamond finished for her.
Linda smiled at this. “Marshall brought you in because Robert August had told them what they were planning and suddenly got cold feet. He was sure he and Jason would be targeted. Marshall didn’t want to believe any of it. He was your typical lawyer: just make money for your client and don’t analyze too closely what your client does for a living.”
She took a few steps toward Diamond. “Marshall wasn’t like you, Lou. You were the odd man out in all of this. The one who should never have been involved.”
“My brother didn’t know about you?”
“He didn’t want to make waves,” she said. “Arc-Link pays fifty million dollars in legal fees to this firm every year. I have something to do with that, of course.”
Diamond nodded. “Marshall just wanted me to close the case up fast. So he was no danger to Arc-Link—”
Linda shook her head and held up her hand. “No, he knew too much. They figure it’s better to clean an old slate—and start new someplace else.”
“Which means,” Diamond said, feeling renewed rage well within him, “kill those people closest to their smallest affairs so no one talks, then move on.” Diamond began thinking of something else. “The night you went to Don Simpson’s house. Why?”
“To convince him that he should hide, that he was in danger,” Linda said. “I told him it was the mob. Told him they were connected to the firm. That Marianne and he were in danger. He hid in the cellar when the police came. It was a little touch—but it compounded his guilt. Or probable guilt.”
“You killed Simpson in the hospital. So there’d be no embarrassing questions later.”
Linda nodded, tears again forming in her eyes. “Yes.”
“Then they killed Robert August, stashed his house full of coke to make him look like a dealer or distributor,” Diamond said. “No one ever considers Arc-Link in any of this. A little coincidental though, so many killings happening in the same law firm within seventy two hours, wouldn’t you say?”
Linda smiled, shrugged. “Any more coincidental than what happened up in San Francisco back in ‘92?”
Diamond flogged his memory for a reference. Nothing immediately loomed.
“Pettit and Martin,” Linda said. “Client walks right into the firm, through security, pulls out an Uzi and kills eight lawyers in broad daylight. Why? Because he was unhappy with the billing hours on his twenty thousand dollar real estate fraud transaction case.”
“There is one small problem left,” Diamond said carefully.
Linda nodded. “Yes. That problem is you, my love.”
Diamond turned and looked at his brother’s corpse near the doorway. “Marshall. These bodies.”
“Arc-Link personnel are untraceable,” Linda said. “But they took precautions with some of these guys. Put fake leads to Columbia. With August murdered the night before, Homicide will call all this a massacre. Drug related, of course. Berenson & Marelli was into the drug cartel business. Stranger things have happened.”
Diamond privately agreed. “You’ve got it all figured out. Not bad, counselor.”
“We monsters have our days,” Linda said softly.
“You have to kill me, too,” Diamond said, squaring off, facing her directly.
“I didn’t want them to do it,” she said miserably. “Is that strange?”
Her gun hand wavered but Diamond could tell it was raising. “I have to do this,” she said. “Or they’ll kill Patsy.”
“One thing bothers me,” Diamond said. He had to keep her talking. Slow down her response time.
“What?”
“You. Why did you want me to keep digging? Was that part of the act?”
Her gun hand again trembled and she lowered it. “I told you once, Lou—I wanted you to save me,” she said softly. “I wanted you to find out. And then maybe—maybe, find a solution to all of this. Because I fell in love with you.” She swallowed and looked down at the gun in her hand. “Even we monsters have a frightened little girl inside of us. A child that wants someone strong and good and heroic to come along and make everything alright.”
She looked back at him, and this time he saw the expression of a bewildered child. “Did you at least—like me, Lou? Ever?”
The question caught him completely off guard. He was surprised to hear his own voice. “I loved you, Linda.”
THIRTY-THREE
Giles could tell he was hit badly. Two rounds in the stomach, one in the shoulder. He looked down at the matted redness especially dark under his right rib. Probably got him in the liver. He’d be dead in twenty minutes, no matter what, and nothing on the planet could save him.
He closed his eyes, listening distantly to the sounds of Lou Diamond and Linda Barely speaking. They must have seen him crawl out of sight … but they must have figured he was dying or dead by now.
They weren’t wrong.
He smiled and then chuckled to himself.
He’d never have that boat now, and forget about kicking it in the Caribbean.
Well, that’s the way things go, Giles thought in customary, philosophical fashion, even now, in extremis. Sometimes you get the gold chain behind Door Number One, and sometimes you get the pile of steaming dog shit behind Door Number Two.
Life’s like that sometimes.
He grimaced, fighting back the blaze of pain in his gut. Tears rolled down his cheek in agony. Still…
One last duty to perform.
“I love you, too, Lou,” Linda said, and smiled. A sad, hopeless smile, but one which Diamond could tell was one hundred percent sincere.
Suddenly, her smile disappeared. Her gun hand came up very quickly.
Diamond only had time to react. He raised his own gun to fire. Linda’s gun discharged three times. The bullets sang past Diamond. Diamond assumed her aim was off and he automatically fired back in response.
The bullets lifted Linda Baylor off the ground, slamming into the opposite wall. The screams of surprise behind Diamond caused him to roll and turn, gun up. Giles had caught yet another bullet in his arm, then once again retreated, out of sight.
Diamond suddenly understood what had happened. Linda had fired at Giles him.
She had saved his life.
My god … I thought she was firing on me.
And he, of course, had returned fire.
“Oh, no,” he groaned, as he crawled over to where Linda was breathing with difficulty, her eyes straining to remain open.
“Linda,” he whispered.
“That—was Giles,” she smiled, reaching out to touch his face. “Professional assassin. He’s still alive, Lou … be careful …”
“I have to get you to a hospital,” Diamond was speaking on automatic, trying to plug bullet holes in her chest with his hands.
“Don’t,” she urged him, “It’s fair. Makes sense. Not your fault.”
“I thought—”
Her hand, blood smeared, touched his lips. “I know. Remember your promise,” she said.
Gray Area Page 17
