Conboy paused. When Taylor remained silent, he continued speaking.
"Why don't we just pick him up? I've got so many assets around him, there's nowhere he can go. We've got him cold. He can be taken to one of the safe houses. We'll use drugs for starters. We'll know everything by dinnertime."
"Don't underestimate him. You've made that mistake once already. He will have some mechanism in place that will deliver the information, the proof he claims he's got, into the wrong hands. I have to know what he has before we can move."
"So you want us to just sit tight until he calls you?"
Taylor nodded and swiveled his chair to face the windows as Conboy left the room. Just two days from confirmation, forty-eight hours before entering the portals that would lead to ultimate power and this shit had to happen, he thought. Suddenly Taylor could feel the walls closing in. He had to get out of the office.
* * *
It was nearly eleven when Richard Daniels awoke. He showered, dressed and had a leisurely brunch in the hotel dining room. After checking out, he went to his car and made the first call from the parking lot. Taylor answered immediately.
"Taylor."
"Talon here," said Daniels. "You've got the cash?"
"I will by this evening. You have the information?"
"I have it."
"How do I know you're the only one who has it? How do I know that once you get the cash and the hounds are called off, someone else won't step in with the same info?"
"You don't," replied Daniels. "What you have to understand is my motivation has changed these days. I just want to be left alone and retire in peace without your goons breathing down my neck. You need an element of trust there, buddy. Just like in the old days, remember?"
"Alright," said Taylor. "I agreed to the terms, Let's get it done. Come to my office on..."
Daniels cut him off with a laugh.
"Not a chance old boy," said Daniels. "I'll go in the front door and leave the back way in a box. No thanks. I'll tell you where we'll meet. I only want you and Conboy. You know I would have no problems handling you both. I want you and Conboy to verify the information and bring a suitcase with the five mil."
"I need a third person, our accountant. He'll handle the cash."
"Okay. Bring your bean counter. Just remember, you only get one chance. If I sniff so much as a whiff of anything going down, I push the panic button. Twenty-four hours later five news bureaus and two federal agencies will receive overnight envelopes stuffed with interesting information. If I fail to report at prearranged times, same thing happens."
"Look, I already agreed," said Taylor. "Let's get it done."
"Stand by your cell phone. I'll call you with instructions in four hours."
Chapter 51
Two hours later Taylor met again with Conboy and the new man. Taylor remembered his name: John Baker. He found the innocuous name and every day appearance disconcerting for someone he knew to be such a stone-cold killer. Taylor had to admit that Conboy had chosen perfectly. Baker looked like a harmless young accountant barely out of college and shaving only twice a week.
Taylor had Conboy and Baker take seats in front of his desk. He sat in front of them and abruptly got up again, pacing back and forth as he spoke.
"First," started Taylor, " have you got the cash rounded up? I want the exact amount just like he asked. I may yet be forced to give it to him. We don't want to play games at that point."
"Yes William," Conboy replied. "Baker has it in there."
He nodded toward a small metal suitcase at Baker's side.
Taylor looked at the suitcase and at Baker. He locked eyes with the young man as he spoke.
"Are you as good with that custom made gun as Conboy says you are?"
"Probably better sir," replied Baker.
Taylor came around the desk, never taking his eyes from Baker.
"Son," said Taylor, "this may be your first assignment with us, but it's probably the most important one in your career. If you handle this right, many doors will open for you. I guaranty that. This will involve you killing someone, killing them fast and in cold blood. There may be others in the way. We don't know where he's going to lead us. You may cause innocent casualties. They're not important. I don't give a shit how many there are, I need this one man dead. Are you up to it son?"
"Yes sir."
Taylor felt one thing as sure as anything he'd felt in his life. This soulless baby faced killer would do exactly what he was told and kill as many people as he had to. He would do this with no pity or compassion or hesitation.
"Here's how it's going to go down," continued Taylor. "We're going to dance to this man's tune for a while, we're going to follow his directions until we meet sometimes in the next few hours. Wherever and whenever that happens, he will give me some written materials. I'm going to read this material. I will make a decision on the spot. If I tell you: Baker give him the money, you will do exactly that. You will hand over the suitcase and we will leave. He may have brought himself a little time, but I assure you, it will be very little time. On the other hand, after reading the material, I may decide he is to die on the spot. When and if I reach that decision, I will turn to you and I will nod. I will not say a word to you, just a nod of my head. When that happens, I want you to kill that son of a bitch so fast he won't even have time to call for his momma. I mean I want him dead in the blink of an eye. You understand son? You got a problem with any of that?"
"No sir. You give the nod and he's dead the next second."
"I believe that son," said Taylor as he turned to Conboy, "now bring me up to date on what our friend is up to since that call."
"We have four teams assigned to him in relays. It's all coordinated from a Langley center with satellite tracking of the transponders on the units, including the one we planted on his rental car last night. If he farts, we'll know what he had for dinner. He called you from the hotel parking lot. After the call, he drove to Arlington Cemetery about twenty minutes away."
"Arlington? Christ, what the hell is he doing there?"
"Evidently just visiting graves. With his special forces background, he must have a few friends buried there."
"That he does, Conboy, that he does."
Chapter 52
William Taylor's watch read five PM when he received the second call from Richard Daniels. They'd been cooling their heels for four hours since the last call and Taylor could feel his nerves on edge. Ten minutes ago they had received the report that Daniels had left Arlington National Cemetery and was headed on US395, toward the G. Mason Bridge. Just over the bridge lay the Washington monument, the Mall and the US Capitol. Above all, Taylor wanted this over and done. He wanted an end to this stupid-ass cat and mouse game that Daniels was playing. He jumped at the squeaky chime of the cell phone and thumbed it on immediately.
"Taylor," he barked into the phone.
"You sound nervous William," said Daniels, "Maybe you're a little upset and you want to call this off for tonight."
"Fuck you Daniels. I already agreed to your terms and I have the cash. Quit playing your fucking games and let's get this over with."
"Oh my! You are upset. Okay, we won't waste time. Here're your directions; Listen carefully. I won't repeat them. Get on East Capitol Street just past the RFK Stadium. Take that until it turns into the Martin Luther King Jr. Highway then get off and take Central Avenue toward the Beltway. Get off Central Avenue just before exit 15 on the Beltway and wait there for my next call."
Taylor turned off the cell phone with a hard jab of his thumb. He could feel his blood boiling and he had to make a conscious effort to keep his legendary calm in effect. He repeated Daniels' instructions to Conboy.
"It's right in the middle of the rush hour. We'll be diddling with traffic half the night."
"You know something," said Taylor, "I get the feeling he doesn't give a shit."
The Washington traffic lived up to its reputation. A house fire and one accident along the ro
ute snarled traffic even worse than usual. It was past seven when Taylor, Conboy, and Baker who drove, arrived at the location demanded by Daniels and settled down to wait for his call. Conboy received several reports on his own cell phone as to Daniels's movements.
"The son of a bitch visited the Washington monument and now he's headed toward the Lincoln memorial like a tourist from Iowa," said Conboy. "He's jerking our chain. You know I could take him out right now. He's always within sight of two of our hit teams. Just one word and he becomes one of those mystery-deaths."
"No," replied Taylor. "Just bide your time. I have to dance to his tune for the moment until I can see exactly what he's got. We have to follow his directions for the moment. He may even have somebody watching us."
Chapter 53
For the next two hours Taylor received reports on Daniels's movements. After visiting the Washington and Lincoln and Roosevelt Memorials, he turned toward the Mall and the Capitol. He strolled and took in the sights like a Japanese tourist without a camera. It was almost three hours later, closing in on ten PM when Daniels' next call came in.
"Taylor."
"How you holding up William?"
"I can stand it if you can."
"Good for you old buddy. Here're your next directions: It's real easy. Don't screw it up or the bet's off. Get on the I95/495 Beltway at exit 15 right about where you are now. Take the Beltway South to exit 2, the last exit before the Wilson Memorial Bridge over the Potomac. Don't cross the bridge. Take 295 South till it ends at the town of Oxon Hill. Wait for my next call right there."
William Taylor clicked off the phone and gave the instructions to Baker then settled down in the back seat gazing out at the evening traffic along the Washington Beltway. Reports continued to come in from the teams assigned to Daniels. He'd left the Mall and was now taking US295, heading south toward Oxon Hill. It looked to Taylor like they would meet somewhere in the town until the next report came in fifteen minutes later. When Conboy received the call, he pulled out an area map and placed it between him and Taylor on the seat. He jabbed his finger down at a spot a few miles down from Oxon Hill and about six miles from the Maryland side of the Potomac.
"That's it," said Conboy, "Now it's coming together. We tracked down this Hogden and Derek Corporation, the one Daniels uses as a front. It's a Bermuda based company and as far as we can tell, it's only had one business activity in the US so far. One of their executives rented a warehouse under the Corporation name about three weeks ago. It's just a few miles from Oxon Hill."
William Taylor smiled under the dome light of the sedan. It was coming together, he thought. All he had to do now was set the trap and Daniels was finished. With any luck it would be tonight. If the material turned out to be too sensitive, then it would wait until after the confirmation hearing. Either way, thought Taylor, I will nail his hide to the door.
He felt invigorated, in control again as he barked orders at Conboy.
"Tell the teams watching Daniels to stick to his ass so close they can count the pimples. If they lose him I'll personally have their heads. He's probably going to lead us to that warehouse where he must have set up some kind of escape mechanism—either a car or probably a helicopter. I want another half dozen teams around that warehouse. If we don't get him inside, I want to be able to take him outside. Can you get a Stinger team there in the next half hour?"
"I had one standing by just in case," answered Conboy, "They'll be in place before Daniels can get there. I have two damage control and covering teams standing by in case it gets messy or we have to shoot down his helicopter. Do you want me to put people inside the warehouse?"
"No. He might spot them and get spooked. Now get things rolling," said Taylor as he resumed looking out the window.
Chapter 54
It took another hour for Daniels to travel down US295 until he reached the intersection of 295 and the I95/495 Beltway. He got off the exit and took the two-lane side road toward the industrial park. He pulled in the parking lot under the four sodium lights and parked the rented car. Twelve pairs of eyes watched from the wooded areas surrounding the warehouse as Daniels walked to the door, entered the code and went inside. Four teams were in place armed with sniper rifles and grenade launchers. The team sitting further back had a Stinger ready to shoot down any helicopter that Daniels might try to escape in. Daniels had walked into an airtight kill zone that William Taylor could activate at any given moment.
Daniels did a quick check on the integrity system. No one had visited. He ran another series of checks and found everything working to his specifications as Bobby-Ray had set it. He went to the small refrigerator, poured a diet Coke in a plastic cup and sat behind the small desk facing the window. He took the cell phone from his pocket and made his final call to William Taylor.
"Hey old buddy,' Daniels said when Taylor answered, "We're about fifteen minutes away from playing Lets Make a Deal. You ready?
"Yeah."
"Good to hear it. You're a real trooper. You deserve this little reward. Here's where you get the bacon. Go South on Oxon Hill Road for about a mile. First right you come to is Alley Road. Take it to Industrial Park Drive. Make a left then make your third right. It's a warehouse. Pull into the parking lot and walk into the front door. Its open and I'll be waiting. Remember one thing, if you so much as look at me cross-eyed, all your nasty information goes right to where it'll hurt you the most. I've got you by the short hairs, understand?"
"I understand. There's no problem Richard. We have a deal and I will hold my end of the bargain."
"Glad to hear that, old buddy. Now there's just one more thing."
"What?"
"Don't forget the cash."
Chapter 55
Twenty minutes after Daniels' last phone call, Taylor and Conboy walked up to the door of the warehouse. Baker followed them with the metal suitcase. His eyes flicked back and forth like a serpent's tongue tasting the air, every sense alert. If he had to, he could drop the suitcase and place a five round, nine-millimeter cluster thirty yards away, all under three seconds and neat as a pin.
As they approached, Taylor could see Daniels through the window, sitting on a desk, a cup in his hand. Every bulb was on and the interior of the warehouse was awash in bright white light from the arrays of fluorescents bolted to the high ceiling. He was about to pound on the door when Daniels voice reached him from inside.
"Come on in. Its open."
The three men walked inside the warehouse and stopped. They were in a long rectangular room, empty except for two large planters on both far corners. Plastic palms jutted out from the planters, their artificial leaves bright green like Day-Glo under the white lights. Along the far walls, two doors opened into smaller storage rooms. A couple of newly constructed walls jutted out behind Daniels at ninety degrees to the rear main wall. The new walls started halfway to the top of the ceiling and slanted down at forty-five degree angles until they ended eight foot from the rear wall. The sloping walls had tracks fastened into the sides until they touched the floor. Overhead were stored several large construction sheets of steel and asbestos held in place by metal wires. The air smelled of fresh cement and wet dirt.
Daniels got up and walked around the desk and stopped behind it, facing the three men. He stood between two jutting walls with his back to the rear main wall. The desk surface was clear except for a dozen or so sheets of paper and two computer discs. Daniels' voice echoed in the cavernous empty warehouse as he spoke.
"Evening William. Glad you could make it. Got the cash?"
William Taylor felt a small ripple of fear going through his psyche. Just the tiniest whisper of doubt as he thought how easy this was turning out. But was it really easy or was this the beginning of a chain of blackmail in which Daniels would pull his strings like a puppeteer? It all hinged on the material Daniels held. Taylor felt confident that he had sufficient firepower inside and out to handle whatever Daniels might come up with.
Conboy and Baker moved slightly o
n either side of Taylor as they faced Daniels across the desk.
"Show him the contents Baker," Taylor said.
Without taking his eyes from Daniels, the young killer brought the suitcase to waist level. He pushed a button on the side and the metal top sprung open revealing an interior filled with tight stacks of thousand dollar bills. Daniels looked at it from across the desk without moving.
"For the moment William, I'll just take your word that it's all there."
"Five millions, like we agreed," said Taylor as he pointed to the papers and computer discs on the table. "Is that the material?"
"That's all of it," replied Daniels, "But first let's review some ground rules. I'm scheduled to make calls every ten minutes until I reach my extraction point later tonight. The calls are taken by one of my people and routed through the latest high tech voice-analysis software. There are specific code words followed by a minimum of five sentences. The software identifies my voice and searches for stress patterns. If I am even moderately upset, packages identical to what you see are immediately mailed to the Washington Post, the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal, and USA Today. In addition the Justice Department, the FBI, the White House, the Senate leaders and House leaders and Committee chairmen each receive a package."
"Richard, I intend to hold my end of the bargain."
Taylor walked the several steps that separated him from the desk. He picked up the papers and began to read. Daniels stepped back until his back was a scant ten inches or so from the main wall. He was within the eight-foot alcove formed by the two sloping walls.
Silence filled the warehouse until it became a thick, tangible presence as Taylor read each sheet. A slight rustling followed as he placed each page down and started the next. Every twenty seconds a drop of water fell from a pipe somewhere in the rear of the warehouse with a plinking noise. Baker was like a silent coiled snake, his eyes steady on Daniels, the metal suitcase now on the ground. Daniels shifted his foot slightly until he felt the raised bump in the cement under the toe of his leather boot.
The Last Operation (The Remnants of War Series, Book 1) Page 22
