by Jim Heskett
Layne looked around for an exit strategy. His only option was back into the stairwell, but the giant was blocking it. Maybe Layne could draw him away from the entrance, and then use speed to his advantage. So far, though, the giant seemed quite lithe on his feet.
“Nowhere to run to, is there?” Conner said. “You don’t have a choice.”
Layne balled his fists. “I’m not going to run, you oversized sack of meat. Let’s do this.”
36
Farhad lifted the binoculars to his face. On the rooftop, Layne opened the door from the maintenance stairwell, right on schedule. He held a gym bag in one hand. Interesting. Perhaps that’s where he was keeping the gear he had stolen from Farhad’s men over the last few days.
Staring at Layne made Farhad’s blood boil. This former spy had killed at least four of Farhad’s hired men so far, and that was not a cheap expenditure. Death on the job required a significant family payout, and it’s not as if Layne would reimburse Farhad for those costs.
Plus, leaving one of them dead in Farhad’s house had been a tacky maneuver. Purely without class. But, the evidence planted had led Layne to the rooftop, which was exactly where Farhad wanted him to be.
He didn’t worry about his car being seen at this hidden edge of the parking lot, with the trees as cover. If Layne had spotted it on the way in, he wouldn’t have continued past. For as clever and calculating as Layne Parrish could be, sometimes, he had trouble seeing what was right in front of his eyes. Of course, all Americans could be like that. Especially the ones who had omnipresent faith in themselves.
His phone buzzed in his lap. He used a sanitizer wipe from the center console to give the phone a quick cleaning before he answered it.
“Hello?”
“Did you find out the name you wanted so badly?” said the voice on the phone.
“No. I do not know who killed Omar Naseer. There is a theory I'm entertaining, but nothing concrete. I do not want to speak without being a hundred percent certain.”
On the rooftop, Layne skulked around, taking stock of the area. He seemed unsure, looking around for something. Backup, perhaps? Farhad knew Layne had not called in the police or the FBI. He would have seen them.
“You have a theory?”
“Yes,” Farhad said. He didn’t need to tell them he had a strong notion Layne Parrish had killed Omar Naseer. He suspected his bosses knew that already, and he didn’t want to play their mind games today. There was too much else going on, and besides, they didn’t actually care about Omar, anyway. “It doesn’t matter. Either way, everything is still on schedule, and there is no reason for us to delay or have any hesitations. You bring me the payload. We get to the designated spot, and then it begins. All as we discussed.”
The voice on the phone grumbled. “We’re not happy about your diversions and personal grudges. Revenge for Omar is your business, not ours. Some are saying it’s not professional.”
“I don’t care what ‘some’ say, I only care about completing the task I’ve been assigned. And I will complete it. Once you see what we can accomplish today, we will make history.”
The voice on the phone grunted but said nothing.
On the rooftop, Conner stepped out behind Layne. Layne didn’t even know he was there until the big man punched him. And then, even better, he stripped Layne of his gear bag and then tossed it over the side of the building. Farhad would have to pick that up on his way in.
“We will be there in the helicopter in sixty minutes,” said the voice on the phone.
“Good. But land at the alternate site.”
“Why?”
“The landing pad at Hillcrest has been compromised. Plus, the alternate landing zone puts us closer to the dam, and closer to the river. Less time to unload the payload.”
“Hillcrest is compromised? How could you let this happen?”
“It was intentional. A trap. There’s been a stray dog on my tail for a while now, and he needs to be taught a lesson.”
“Layne Parrish.”
“That’s correct,” Farhad said.
“Kill him and be done with it.”
“Oh no. I have no intention of killing him. If he dies, so be it, but I’d rather he live so he can see what we’re going to accomplish today.”
The voice on the phone breathed an angry sigh. “You are playing with fire, Farhad.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
A few seconds of silence elapsed over the phone. In that time, Farhad watched Conner and Layne fighting. Layne was skilled with his fists, but Conner had such raw strength, Layne was no match for him. Layne quickly devolved into parrying and dodging. Fully on the defensive. Trying to use speed and agility to outmaneuver Conner, but the brute’s power would win out. It always did.
“Okay, we can meet at the alternate spot. Give us an extra ten minutes to adjust.”
“I will be there as soon as I can,” Farhad said. “I have to take care of something first. Don’t worry. I should still be there before you, waiting and ready.”
“What do you have to take care of?”
“A personal matter that doesn’t concern you. I will be on time and ready to begin.”
“You better be. You are too important to waste your time on side matters.”
Farhad sprouted a sour grin. He knew he was only important to them because he was willing to give his life to carry out the first in a wave of attacks. They were not. Fine with him, because someone had to be around later to take credit and put the other parts of the plan in motion.
“It’s not wasted.”
The voice on the line sighed. “You have done well to find Jonah and draw information from him. We’ve recovered millions in assets, but your vendetta could ruin this. Let it go.”
Farhad gripped the phone and set his jaw. “Who is at the heart of this? Me. You are right, I found Jonah. I am the one who got close to him. I am the one who discovered how Redding could become a conduit. Our launching pad. You wanted to blow up a sports arena and kill a few thousand. The plan I devised after moving here was much, much better. Don’t tell me I am not clear in the head.”
“Fine. But do not celebrate yet.”
“Soon,” Farhad said, “we will cross the point of no return, and Redding will be known as the ignition for all of what comes after.”
“If you do your job, it will be. Don’t be late.”
The call ended. Farhad smiled as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. Just then, Layne made a break for it and managed to elude Conner. Farhad’s mouth dropped open. So, the former spy did still have a few surprises left inside him.
Layne raced toward the door and flung it open, back inside the building. Conner raced after him. Farhad considered this twist, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.
Actually, this scenario made more sense, because now he could travel to the roof and enact his surprise there. This would work out much better, in fact.
“That’s our cue to go,” Farhad said, and he turned to his passenger. Jonah, tied up, with duct tape over his mouth. “Wake up, Jonah. Time for you to shine and prove your worth, once and for all.”
Part III
Family Secrets
37
Twenty minutes ago, Serena Rojas stepped out of the shower. She checked her watch, knowing she was running late. Harry was in the next room, Inessa and Cameron dropped off to the airport, Layne checking out the location to set the trap, and Jonah gone back to his place to pack up.
With a ten minute drive to Hillcrest ahead of her, Serena had ten minutes left over to get ready. No problem. That included time to check her weapons, since she hadn’t been able to do that yet. Everything was locally sourced, provided by Daphne, since it’s not as if Serena could have packed her favorite guns for the flight to California. Even covert government agents weren’t immune from the travel laws.
As she wrapped a towel around her long hair, something in the room felt off. Her phone was sitting next to the sink, still playing the sam
e streaming station she’d forgotten to pause before getting in the shower. A mix of Memphis-style rap and pop dance tracks. Some people would claim they didn’t go together at all, but Serena would disagree.
Her phone skittered across the countertop, pausing the music. Serena picked it up and frowned at the Unknown Caller displayed on the lock screen. “Hello.”
“Hello, Pepper,” Daphne said.
“You’re still trying to make that handle happen. I don’t know if it’s working.”
Daphne cackled. “Maybe, maybe not. It’s new. We’ll give it time.”
“What can I do for you, Control?”
“Just wanted to check in to see if you made it to California, since we haven’t talked yet today.”
This gave Serena a moment of pause. Of course, Daphne already knew she had made it to California because she had access to all manner of data about Serena Rojas and her movements. No, this was something else. Daphne usually had an ulterior motive. Serena had grown accustomed to having to look for it, and sometimes, having to coerce Daphne to reveal it.
“Yep, I’m here. Anything else I can do for you?”
“It’s good, what you’re doing. Helping Layne with his friend. I know you and Jonah don’t know each other, because he was before your time, and we don’t talk about ex-shadows. But, back when he was active on the team, he was one of the best I ever had. If you could cut through his sarcasm, you would see a patriot who was always three steps ahead of everyone else, and that made him incredibly valuable. The team took a big hit at the end of his tenure since he and Layne retired within weeks of each other.”
Serena slipped on the clean underwear she had set out on the bathroom counter and unwrapped the towel from her head. “Why do I get the feeling there’s something else you want to tell me? You didn’t approve me coming out to California off the clock out of the goodness of your heart, did you?”
Daphne hesitated, giving Serena all the answer she needed.
“If I have a directive, please tell me. I’d rather find out now before anything happens.”
“Jonah didn’t leave the team on the best of terms,” Daphne said. “And, in the six-plus years since, he’s mostly been a ghost. But I know some of where he’s been and how he’s spent his time. There are things about him Layne doesn’t know. Things he’s done.”
“What does that mean?”
“Some of it is need-to-know only. But Jonah and Layne have a… complicated relationship.”
“Layne trusts him, but you’re saying I shouldn’t?”
“What I’m saying is that you need to keep a clear head about all this. If Jonah has been compromised, you might need to take action, regardless of Layne’s personal feelings.”
“Action on Jonah.”
“That’s correct,” Daphne said. “I trust your judgment in the field. If you think Jonah is a liability or has an intention to hurt the team, then you are free to do whatever is required to protect us and to protect Layne. Even if he doesn’t see it that way.”
Serena slid on the pair of stretchy pants from the sink as she considered this order from Daphne. She wasn’t sure what to think about it.
“Serena? You still there?”
“I’m here, Control.”
“I trust you’ll put your country and your team above whatever personal loyalties you have to Layne. He might not be thinking clearly about his old partner. That’s your responsibility to monitor the situation, and why you’re in California.”
Serena pursed her lips and sighed through her nose. “Understood, Control. I have to go. I’m going to be late meeting Layne for a sting operation on Farhad.”
Daphne ended the call without saying goodbye, and Serena stared at her phone for a few seconds. Part of her seethed at Daphne for giving her a secret task, but part of her was annoyed at herself for not anticipating it.
Then, when Serena turned around to look out into the main room, that strange feeling returned. With her eyes scanning the room from the bathroom, she couldn’t see anything obvious. Just a feeling. She slipped into her socks and then quickly put on a shirt.
One step out into the main room, she figured out immediately what was wrong. A baseball bat smacked her in the stomach. She doubled over and let her body carry through the motion, doing a somersault in the direction of the bed. As she rolled, she turned her head to see who had attacked her.
A woman, roughly Serena’s same height, build, and complexion. Dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. A curvy figure wearing tight clothes. Gripping the baseball bat, preparing to raise it for another swipe.
Serena landed and kicked out her leg, trying to sweep the woman off her feet. The woman jumped back, too agile to succumb to such an easy move. In an instant, she was ready to lunge and attack again.
Serena placed her hands on the floor and pushed herself up, and now, she got a good look at her attacker. Serena had never seen this woman before, but she knew who it was. When giving his summary of the events of the last week, Layne had described conducting field research with a local woman who had dated Farhad and was possibly in danger.
But, looking now at Mariana Flores, Serena could see she was in no actual danger.
“You working with the Iranian?” Serena asked, trying to buy a few seconds to catch her breath.
Instead of answering, Mariana lunged forward. She raised the bat, and Serena tensed her left leg so she could push off and jump to her left. The swing would come from Mariana’s right, exposing that side of her body to a kidney punch.
But Mariana did something unexpected. She took one hand off the bat and dropped it to her side. Serena forgot about leaping out of the way to watch it happen. Off balance, she didn’t know which way to move.
Mariana grabbed a handful of the comforter from the bed and tossed it at Serena. It landed on her like catching a wild animal in a net.
Serena tried to take a step back, but the comforter was all around her. She put her hands up to throw it off, but she wasn’t quick enough.
Next came a smack upside the head from the baseball bat. And then, her legs gave out, and she crashed to the floor. Darkness.
38
Layne faked as if he would move left. Only a split-second look and lean in that direction, but it was enough to make the big brute in front of him change his center of gravity. Layne couldn’t beat this guy on sheer strength, so he had to change his tactic. Speed was still on Layne’s side.
As soon as Conner began his lean, Layne changed course to the right and darted past the man. Two quick hops put Layne behind him. Only ten feet to the door leading back into the maintenance room. Away from this rooftop, where Conner had a distinct advantage.
The big man roared as his upper body twisted to follow Layne. “I’m going to grind you into dust!”
Layne whipped back the door, with Conner only a couple feet behind him. Layne barely touched the stairs on his way down. His feet landed on every fifth or sixth step, only enough to keep himself from tripping.
In the maintenance room, Layne had a two-second head start. An idea materialized. The room was lined with metal shelves, in rows throughout the space. Layne hard-planted to the right and lined up behind a shelf. As soon as the door opened behind him, Layne pushed on the nearest shelf with all his might. It toppled, sending an array of cleaning products and mop buckets and other items tumbling. Directly onto Conner. He staggered and bumped into the next shelf, knocking that one over. A quick domino toppled three or four of them, with Conner caught in the middle.
But, it didn’t last long. Only long enough for Layne to catch his breath and ready his fists. Conner popped up, pushing a metal shelf to the side.
And Layne was there. He cracked Conner in the face. Layne thought he might have hurt his knuckles worse than the guy’s face, but he did draw blood, at least. Conner’s nose appeared to have flattened a little. Maybe enough to cause his eyes to water and ruin his vision.
Conner shot out his tongue to lap the blood dripping from his nose, then he
shrugged a bottle of bleach off his shoulder. He raised two clenched fists and brought them down toward Layne’s shoulders. Layne leaned back, trying to move out of range. It mostly worked, and he caught only the edges of the big guy’s hands. Still, the force was strong enough to send Layne to one knee. It thumped on the concrete floor, making Layne’s knee ache.
Conner swung a wide right, and the punch jolted Layne’s head to the side. He felt it in his neck like whiplash. Vision blurring, the room tilted. One of the strongest punches Layne had ever received. He knew for sure he couldn’t take too many more of those, so he needed distance and a better plan.
Layne scooted back, out of range of the next punch. When Conner took a step forward to narrow the distance, Layne pushed his palms against the floor to rise to his feet. He leaped over a fallen shelf, headed for the door. There had to be some way to gain a tactical advantage. Maybe in the stairwell, or in a room with objects he could use as weapons. Something. Maybe glass from a broken window. Face to face wasn’t a fair fight, and Layne wasn’t in the mood to have his back broken over this giant’s knee today.
Out in the hall, he had to make a quick decision. The stairs were to the right, with a long stretch of hallway to the left. And, down that hallway, he noticed something leaning against the doorframe of an open lecture room. A pole, about two inches in diameter and roughly four feet long. It had a pump grip on one end and a set of pinchers on the other. Layne guessed it was for opening and closing the window blinds, like an arm extension.
By the time Layne realized what it was, he heard Conner on the move behind him. Layne pivoted in that direction and made a run for it. And, out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone coming out of the door to the stairs. But, Layne didn’t stop to check the person out. Conner was right at his heels. No time to worry about any outside distractions.
Layne sprinted down the hall, his head still a little hazy from the giant’s fierce punch. Conner only two steps behind. Layne could practically feel hot breath on the back of his neck.
