The path curved before it went towards the shell. She stepped onto the grass, making a direct line for it, keeping Anton in her peripheral vision. Her pace quickened, trying to reach the band shell before Anton did so she could get the drop on him. Once she found herself there, she moved through it, spotting an opening near the path. With her back against the wall and shielded from Anton's line of sight, she peered around the corner, spotting him coming closer.
The poodle came by first and Angela reached down, grabbing the dog by its collar and pulling him into the band shell, the leash slipping from the loose grip Anton had on it. He came in after her and once she saw him, her leg immediately shot out, striking him dead center in his chest. She followed it with a roundhouse kick to his head. Anton's face rocked to the side and when Angela moved in for another kick, he grabbed her leg and threw her against the back of the shell as if she were weightless.
Just as she began to get back up, Anton kicked her in the ribs and she gasped for breath. He picked her up and slammed her against the wall, his face a mask of rage. “I was wondering when Dante would get around to sending someone after me. Just never knew he'd send such a tasty young thing to take me out. Didn't think he'd be so stupid.”
“You obviously don't know him very well.”
“Feisty, I like that. Too bad I have to snap that pretty little neck. Would've been nice to get to know you.”
“In that case, I'm happy to disappoint you, Romeo,” she said. Her knee shot out, striking Anton in his crotch. He released his grip on her and she fell to the ground in a crouched position. Using her arms as leverage, she shot her legs into his stomach and he stumbled back. She jumped, swinging her leg in a wide arc and hitting him in the forehead. Anton brought his arm down to strike her but Angela blocked it and quickly countered, pulling his arm behind his back. She released his arm then quickly drove her foot into his back, pushing him against the wall.
She swung her leg and connected her shin with his ankle, knocking him off his balance and bringing him crashing down. Before he could get back to his feet, Angela's hand went to her pocket and within a split second, she had the small, silver gun pointed at his head, with him sitting on the ground.
“What are you, some kind of idiot?” He started to laugh. “I don't see a silencer on there. This isn't exactly a secluded area. You pull that trigger, you'll have witnesses. And I'm pretty sure you don't want that. Not in broad daylight in such a public place. Not even this little enclosure will keep things quiet.”
The dog came at her, nipping at her heel. Angela looked down and kicked it away. With that distraction, Anton rose back to his feet and Angela worked quick, raising her leg and shooting it right against his throat. The force of the kick proved to be strong enough to crush his windpipe and he collapsed to the ground, falling flat on his face. Angela knelt down and felt around his neck, finding no pulse. Satisfied, she removed the Infernum signet ring from his finger and placed it and the gun in her pocket.
“...is he okay?”
Angela froze.
***
Christian Pierce knelt down by the lake, tossing bread crumbs to some ducks who had milled about near him. He wore headphones, or at least what looked like headphones. In reality, they were earpieces, connecting him to his partner who was stationed nearby. The sunglasses he wore also had miniature cameras installed in them.
“Do you see him yet?” asked Julie, her voice coming through the headphones.
“Not yet,” he whispered, knowing the microphone to be powerful enough to pick up even the feint sound of his voice. Christian looked over his shoulder and then he spotted the large man walking on the path, holding a leash attached to a small poodle.
“Wait...here he comes.”
“Just remember, don't confront him, wait 'till he comes to you.”
“I know, I'm the one who came up with the damn plan,” he said.
“Do you really think he'll turn on Infernum?”
“He's not the first person who's tried. But I'm hoping he'll be the last one we need.”
“How do you get these guys to turn against Dante anyway? As I understand it, seems like he rewards them very nicely. Why trade that in exchange for the Witness Protection Program?”
“Who said anything about Witness Protection?”
“So what sort of deal do you make with these guys?”
“Full Presidential pardon and a bit of a living stipend as well as the means to get them out of the country.”
“And if they don't cooperate?”
“Let's just say what the Agency does to guys like Anton makes Gitmo look like a friggin' beach house.”
“That's just great.”
“Welcome to the real world, Kim, where sometimes you've gotta out-bad the bad guys.”
“All in favor of the greater good, right?”
“Queen and country and all that bullshit, yeah,” said Christian. When he looked over his shoulder again, he saw another woman not far from Anton with long, blond hair and wearing sunglasses and a leather jacket. She approached the band shell, vanishing inside. Christian scanned around, trying to see where she came out. Didn't seem to be much of a reason for her to be in there.
“Jules, did you see that blond who just went into the band shell?”
“Now's really not the time to check out girls, Pierce.”
“No, I'm serious, I think something may be up.”
“Hold on, let me backtrack.”
As Christian watched, he saw the poodle pulled into the band shell and Anton follow. After a few moments, he realized something had definitely happened. He stood, speaking into his transmitter once more.
“Shit, we've got a situation,” he said. “Looks like Dante's onto us.”
“What? Are you sure?”
“Anton's just disappeared from sight, so I'd say something's up.” He broke into a run towards the band shell. “Do you have any info on the girl?”
“I think I found who you were talking about—blond hair, sunglasses, leather jacket?”
“Yeah, that's her.”
“I have to try and enhance the image first, I can't get much off this.”
“How long will that take?”
“Enhancement, maybe ten minutes. As for facial recognition, depends.”
“Oh fuck me...”
“Do you need back-up?”
“No, stick to your position,” he said. “If anything happens, then I want you to come in. But right now, let me see if I can handle this my way.”
Once Christian reached the band shell, his hand moved under his jacket, his fingers brushing the hilt of his Beretta. He heard the unmistakable sound of a fight going on and once he peered around the edge, he saw the blond woman deliver the killing blow, felling Anton. She checked his pulse and then removed the ring from his finger and deposited it in her jacket.
Anton had been their best chance at reaching Dante. With him dead, they had nothing. Who knew how long it would take to find a new asset? Unless...
No, that's insanity. Trying to get the assassin who killed his asset to become the new link? She wouldn't go for it. But then again, Anton almost didn't go for the offer, either. He would have to try, otherwise he'd get out of here with nothing.
“Maintain radio silence,” he said.
“What? Christian, what's going—”
Before Julie could finish her question, Christian pulled the earphones and the sunglasses off, putting them in his pockets and switching off the transmitter. He took a deep breath and stepped inside the band shell.
“...is he okay?” asked Christian.
The woman looked up at him, and she smiled, quickly regaining her composure. “Umm...yeah, he's fine,” she said.
“What happened to him?” he asked.
“He's...well...” She began to laugh. “This is kind of embarrassing, actually. You see...he's my brother. He was out drinking until early this morning and he called me, said he needed me to give him a ride. Then I come out here and—and I
find him passed out.”
Christian moved closer to Anton's body. “Well—he looks really out of it.”
The poodle came towards Anton's body, beginning to sniff it. Christian looked at the dog. “Is that yours?”
“Uh...yeah!” She scooped up the dog with her hands and it made a surprised grunt. “I love dogs. He's my little baby.”
“It's—it's a she,” said Christian.
“Oh...I guess I always thought he'd been fixed,” said the woman. The dog growled at her.
“Is she okay?”
“Yeah...she's just temperamental in the morning, that's all,” she said.
“Maybe I can help you. He's a big guy, so it won't be easy to carry him.”
“No!”
Christian looked at her in surprise. “Umm...sure, no problem.”
“He—he just needs to sleep it off, that's all,” she said. “Trust me, if you try and move him now, he'll just throw up all over you.”
“Yeah, we definitely don't want that,” he said.
This wasn't working. He needed to try and move things forward a little. Establish a connection. If he didn't, he would blow this one chance. “Listen, I hope you don't think I'm too forward...but would you like to take a walk?”
“Oh, I—I really shouldn't,” she said.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I've gotta watch over my brother.”
Damn. Come on, think faster.
“In that case, I'll go call someone from the park to help you out with him.”
Christian turned away, beginning to leave the band shell. He had to hope she took the bait.
“No wait!”
Hooked. He smiled and looked at her.
“I—a walk—it sounds nice,” she said with a feint smile.
“Sounds great,” said Christian. “Come on, they've got a little coffee stand around here, let's go get some.”
“Sure,” she said, dropping the dog back down by Anton's body.
“What about your dog?” asked Christian.
“He'll be fine.”
“You mean she.”
“Right, she. She'll be fine. She likes watching over him when he's like this.”
“So he does this a lot?”
“Oh, constantly.”
“Must be rough.”
“You have no idea.”
He offered his hand. “By the way, I'm Chris.”
She smiled and took his hand. “Nice to meet you, Chris.”
“Thanks, you too,” he said. “...and your name?”
“Oh, I'm sorry,” she said, offering a nervous laugh. “It's—Anna.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, Anna.” She caught sight of the body of water. “Anna Lake.”
***
Christian approached the small table with a steaming paper cup in each hand. He set one down in front of the woman who introduced herself as Anna and then sat across from her.
“There you go, one coffee, black,” he said.
“Thanks.” She sipped it slowly and looked up at him.
“So...where did we leave off?” he asked.
“You were talking about your graduation.”
“Oh, right,” he said. “So there I am, got my choice of law schools, and my dad couldn't be happier, right? Then, right in the middle of the graduation dinner, my uncle turns to me and asks me if I've chosen which one I'm going to.”
“And you said...?”
“'I'm not going.'”
“You declined?”
“All three offers,” he said.
“What did your father say?”
“Would you believe me if I told you he grabbed his steak knife and jumped across the table?”
“Absolutely not.”
He laughed. “Damn, I hoped I could spice things up a bit.”
She smiled back. “So what did he do?”
“He remained calm at first, asked me what I was going to do then, hoped for some explanation that would prove even better. And I told him I wanted to teach.”
“And—?”
“And he threw me out of the house. We haven't spoken since.”
She laughed at this and Christian found himself beginning to laugh as well. The story was mostly true, he told himself. Except his choice was to apply with the CIA, not teach. And from there, he was recruited into the Agency. But he wasn't about to tell her that. Not yet. Had to build up some trust with her first.
Although, he wondered, why had he felt the need to justify his lies to himself? His job required him to do this and he never felt this desire before. But something about this woman...he found himself drawn to her. In a way that he doubted would be good for either his investigation or his career as a whole.
“What about you?” he asked.
“What about me?”
“Well, I feel like I've been talking all morning but you've barely told me anything about you,” he said. “All I know is that you live alone and you've got a dog. And your name, of course.”
“Sorry, guess I'm not always the most talkative person.”
“What do you do for a living?” he asked.
She hesitated. He knew she was working out a good answer to that question, one that wouldn't arouse too much suspicion. “I'm a consultant.”
“What kind of consultant?”
“Oh—freelance,” she said. “Work with various companies, help them solve problems.”
“What kind of problems are those?”
She shrugged. “All kinds of problems.”
“What kind of companies do you work with?”
“...marketing,” she said. “Yeah, mostly marketing companies. I give them consultation advice.”
“Must keep you busy.”
“Sometimes, but not as much as you may think.”
“Can I ask if it pays well?”
She smiled. “Better than a teacher.”
Christian laughed. He started to enjoy this back and forth. Even with her guard up, this Anna had been remarkably easy to talk to. But he knew he couldn't continue going down this route. He had to keep things professional. Just work her over enough to the point where she would feel comfortable turning on her employer.
“So...only freelance?” he asked. “You don't work for anyone specific?”
“Well, I'm sort of under contract with one company now.”
“Oh? Which one?”
“No one you've heard of,” she said.
“Try me.”
He noticed her eyes wandering, trying to find something that looked legitimate enough for the name of a company. “Treetop Productions,” she said.
“Treetop, really?” Christian spotted a large tree a few feet from them. “And they're a marketing company?”
“It's...all very technical,” she said. “If you don't mind, I don't really like discussing my work.”
“Not too fond of it?”
“Not all the time.” Her voice carried a tone of sincerity. Maybe turning her away from Dante wouldn't be as difficult as Christian had originally assumed. Maybe she just needed the right excuse to get out from under his thumb.
“But, it does pay well,” she said. “And besides, I bet everyone hates their job from time to time. Like you, you can't tell me you actually enjoy waking up at the crack of dawn every morning to watch over a bunch of teenagers.”
“Some days it's harder than others,” he said. “And the hours can be really long.”
“What, out by three o'clock every day?”
“...I mean grading papers, extracurricular activities, stuff like that.” Good save, he told himself.
“Lots of vacation time, though.”
“Yeah, that's true.” He sipped his coffee, trying to figure out where to take this conversation next. At that same moment, he noticed her look at her watch and he took note of how familiar it seemed.
“Thanks for coffee, but I should get going,” she said.
“What about your brother? Think you'll need any help?”
&
nbsp; “No—he's probably awake by now.” She began to stand. “Thanks again, Chris.”
“Hey wait!” He placed his hand on top of hers. “Would you like to have dinner?”
“I—I'm flattered, really.” She pulled her hand out from under his. “But I'm really busy.”
“You just said you aren't as busy as I might think.”
“Maybe I was wrong about what you thought constituted busy.”
“Come on, one night.” He smiled. “There's this great sushi place I'd love to take you to. My treat.”
She smiled at him. “Okay.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Next week?”
“Sure. But let's meet there, okay?”
Christian nodded. “Sure, that's fine. Can I get your number and I can just call you later with the directions?”
She smiled. “Why don't you just give me them now?”
CHAPTER 8
Once Tauna reached the hotel suite Dante arranged for her, she sat at the large desk where a thin laptop computer sat. She raised the lid, the computer blinking on. Her fingers danced on the keyboard, bringing up the connection screen for the satellite connection. She entered the proper encryption codes and made the call.
A few brief seconds later, the connection had been made and a streaming video appeared, showing Dante. He wore no shirt and in the background, Tauna could see the beach.
“Well?” he asked.
“She completed the hit, Anton is dead,” said Tauna. “And what's better, she did it without spilling a single drop of blood.”
“See? I told you there was nothing to worry about.”
“Wait, there's more.”
“Oh?”
“She met someone there.”
“What do you mean she met someone?”
“I mean a man approached her,” said Tauna. “They had coffee, talked for about an hour then made dinner plans.”
“Good for her!” said Dante with a grin. “Woman needs to get laid. It's been what, a year or more since her husband's death? A girl who looks like her shouldn't go to waste.”
Tauna removed the memory card from the digital camera and held it in front of the laptop so Dante could see it. “Maybe you should look at these photos before you start getting excited.”
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