by Noah Boyd
He ran, zigzagging. He dove behind a rock just as another round hit somewhere behind him. Although he still hadn’t seen the shooter, Vail knew that he was in the outcroppings near where Vail had left his car.
Taking a deep breath, Vail raised the shotgun over the rock he was hiding behind, took a quick sight along the barrel, and fired. As he started running to the next spot, he heard the oversize slug he had fired ricochet off the rocks somewhere in the vicinity of the sniper.
Another rifle shot came from above, again exploding into the ground ten yards to his left. It meant that the shooter was firing wildly, more concerned with pinning Vail down than with hitting him.
The reason Vail had chosen this route was that he figured once he had reached the spot where he was now, the sniper could no longer see him moving. The shooter, realizing that, may have taken that last shot out of desperation. Either way, Vail could work his way up the hill without being exposed to the sniper’s line of sight. He ejected the rest of the slugs and reloaded with double-aught buck from the bandolier. If the single-shot rifle was the only weapon that the sniper had, the closer Vail got, the more effective the spray of .32-caliber pellets would become. But first he had to get up there.
Snaking through the outcroppings, Vail maneuvered his way up toward the ridge, being careful not to expose himself. Of course, the shooter could move and possibly surprise Vail, something he had to remain aware of.
Vail heard another shot, somewhat muffled. And then another.
It took him another ten minutes to reach the top. The sniper was gone, but behind Vail’s car, he could see another set of tire tracks in the loose dirt. The last two shots had taken out Vail’s rear tires.
While he waited for the rental company to send someone to tow him to a gas station, he checked his wound. It had almost stopped bleeding. Draping a handkerchief over it, he slipped his shirt and jacket over it. A tow truck arrived and took him to a gas station, where both tires were repaired.
An hour later he was on the 101 heading south toward L.A. Apparently there were more than five people in the Pentad. Today’s shooter was number six. Although Radek had set up Vail with the Italian dinners, someone else was trying to kill him now. Which didn’t make any sense. All the money was gone and the accomplices were dead. Why call attention to yourself by doing this? And why Vail? Did he know something that would reveal the identity of the last person? It was the only reasonable possibility. Was there actually someone from the Los Angeles FBI involved? It wasn’t Pendaran, because he was in custody. Obviously it was someone comfortable with firearms, because the heavy-caliber rifle had a punishing kick to it. Plus, it took a certain confidence to hunt a man in the open.
VAIL PULLED INTO the hospital’s emergency room parking lot and walked in. The doctor who had stitched up his back after the tunnel drop was again on duty. “You do understand we don’t give frequent-flier miles.”
Vail laughed. “This one wouldn’t even get me to the airport.” He took off his shirt.
“Gunshot?”
“Walked into a door.”
“Thank goodness,” the doctor said sardonically. “Otherwise I’d have to report it. You make me wish it was possible to short-sell life insurance on certain individuals.”
The doctor cleaned the wound and started putting a thick bandage on it. “Do you have anything a little less noticeable?” Vail asked. “I’ve got a date for dinner.”
The doctor put a thinner square of gauze over the laceration and taped it tightly into place. “Hold on a minute and I’ll take those stitches out of your back, or do you think you’ll be back in a day or two?”
“I know every waiter in L.A. is actually an actor, but I didn’t realize the doctors were comedians.”
“What’s frustrating is all the sick people that keep coming in here. Talk about no sense of humor. And comedy, after all, is all about feedback. Around here I get almost no reaction.” When he had taken the last suture out, Vail started putting on his shirt. “Do you want anything for pain?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
The doctor gave him a spool of tape, some extra gauze bandages, and a tube of ointment. “You can use these to dress the wound yourself. Or just save them for the next time you get shot.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
THIS LOOKS NICE,” VAIL SAID.
“I hope you like Chinese.”
The restaurant was large and busy. The waiters spoke a minimum of English and the busboys none. The noise level was considerably higher than Sargasso’s. He wondered if Kate had reconsidered her offer and was sending him a message. She ordered a diet soft drink, apparently not wanting to test her resistance to both Vail and alcohol again. It was probably for the best anyway. If he should have the opportunity to take his shirt off later and she saw the bandage on his shoulder, a new round of trust disputes would be sparked.
“You’ve seen me eat. Do you think there’s anything I don’t like?”
“Somebody in the office suggested it,” Kate said. “So there really wasn’t anything out at that ranch? Maybe the garlic clue was supposed to take you in a different direction.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. It was left for a reason. If there was no trap at the ranch, then I don’t know.”
“Another one of life’s unsolved mysteries. How are the paper wars going at the office?”
“Mind-numbing. You owe us a few reports, you know.”
“302s are for court testimony. The last I knew dead men aren’t usually prosecuted. Or is the United States attorney’s office low on stats?” he asked.
“I don’t know about conviction rates, but they’re soon to be short one assistant USA.”
“Tye?”
“They’ve suspended her until the case can be reviewed. It isn’t looking good.”
“Aren’t they the courageous bunch. She was leaving anyhow. That was the reason for the article.”
“You like her, don’t you?” Vail shot her a look. “No, I mean as a person.”
“I didn’t hear anybody complaining when we needed a friendly legal face.”
The waiter came and they both ordered.
Kate said, “Have you thought any more about the director’s offer?”
“Yes, but I don’t know how seriously. I need to go back to Chicago and work for a while and see how everything feels. I’m not sure making a decision right now would be in anyone’s best interest.”
“When are you going back?”
Vail thought about being shot at. He wasn’t going to let that go. And he wasn’t going to tell Kate. “I’ll stick around for a couple of days. Make sure I didn’t leave any loose ends hanging. Mostly I’m doing it so I can ignore your orders that I do paperwork.”
THE EVENING ENDED matter-of-factly with Kate and Vail saying good night to each other as he got off the elevator one floor below hers. He guessed there would be no third attempt to roll that rock up the hill. He lay in bed trying to read. The night before had been perfect until Tye called. Tonight couldn’t have been any more ordinary. Last night they had tried to be two relatively normal people, looking for physical companionship. Tonight the real Kate and Steve showed up and proved they were who they were. And that last night’s little drama-comedy was a one-night-only engagement.
He tried reading the same paragraph again but became distracted by the image of her laughing over the white linen tablecloth at Sargasso’s, her hand absentmindedly caressing the wineglass, her skin flawless in the candlelight. He set the book down and turned off the light. He suspected it was going to be a night without much sleep.
After a few minutes of staring into the darkness, the phone rang. “Hello,” he answered quickly.
“Vail…” It was a male voice that he couldn’t quite identify.
“Yes.”
There was an unnatural laugh. “Sorry I missed you at the ranch today.”
Vail was speechless. It was the voice he had heard the day he killed Lee Salton—Victor Radek’s. �
�Apparently we’re both hard to kill.”
“We’ll see.” The voice now became amused. “Guess why I’m calling.”
“Well, there is a rumor going around that you’ve had a couple of financial setbacks. I could lend you a couple of bucks if you wanted to meet me.”
“You do get a quick read on people. I am calling about money, but I was thinking more like three million bucks.”
“I’ll have to go to an ATM, but okay. Where and when?”
“Actually I was thinking you could go to the FBI office and get it there.”
“The funny thing about that is the FBI actually thinks it’s theirs.”
“That’s why you’re going to have to steal it.”
“I hope you’ve got a plan B.”
“I’m sticking with plan A.” Vail then heard him say to someone in the room with him, “Say something.”
When there was no response, he heard a violent slap. Then, “Steve, I’m sorry.” It was Tye Delson.
Radek came back on the phone. “Do you still need a plan B?”
“No.”
“Good. Here’s the way it’s going to go. I’ll call you at midnight on your cell phone. Make sure you have the money by then. If you don’t…well, you know the rest of it. I’m going to put you over a few hurdles to make sure you’re following all the rules.”
“And those are?” Vail asked.
“No one knows about this. If you try to backdoor me, I’ll know. Ask yourself how I know what hotel you’re in, or that the money is still in L.A., or how I knew to grab your girlfriend here at her apartment. Also, I’ve set a number of obstacles along the course you’ll have to follow, so if anybody else from the FBI is involved…well, you know those clowns, they’ll stumble over them and cost the princess here her life. Then we’ll both have to start looking for a plan B, which for someone with my limited imagination starts with more bodies. Funny thing is I was going to be satisfied with just killing you this morning, and then I saw the article about the prosecutor.”
Vail suspected Radek was trying a little too hard to prove he had someone on the inside. He could have found out about Vail’s hotel from Tye or her cell phone. It had been only a couple of days since the recovery of the three million dollars, and with all that had been going on, it was a pretty safe bet the money would not have been taken back to Washington yet. As far as getting Tye’s home address, someone as streetwise as Radek would have no trouble conning a clerk or secretary from the USA’s office into giving it up, especially after her embarrassing article in the newspaper. Or he could actually have someone in the FBI feeding him information. Vail decided he couldn’t take the chance. Especially since Radek was right about the others stumbling through the exchange. The tunnel had proven that.
“I’ll be alone.”
“I know you will. You’re a loner. You could have called for help when we were following you that day, but you took Salton on by yourself. Same thing at the ranch this morning. If nobody else is around, you might get a chance to kill me, is that it?”
“You’ll have to admit, you do need killing.”
Radek brayed a cold, angry laugh. “I could make the same argument. You’ve been ruining the beauty of this operation since the tunnel. I should have killed you then, but now all I want is my money so I can get out of this stinking country.”
“It might be worth three million to get rid of you, but one question, the guy in the elevator.”
“Benny? He was one of my dummies from prison. We were all in his apartment when I sent the three of them to that building to kill you. After they left I took his toothbrush and put it in my apartment where you’d find it.”
“You have them take all the chances, and then you send them out to die. I can see why you don’t want anyone to know you’re still alive—they might somehow get the idea that you’re a coward.”
“Run your mouth one more time, Vail, and me and the princess here are going to start getting more friendly. I like them with a little more meat, but as a special consideration for everything you’ve cost me…”
“Okay, okay, I’ll get the money.”
“Midnight, hero. And no guns. Just your cell phone and a flashlight. And don’t waste your time trying to trace this phone.” Vail heard something heavy smash the phone just as the line went dead.
VAIL WALKED into Kate’s office carrying his suitcases, both empty. He tried the handle on the safe drawer. It was locked, which meant the money was still in there. She had said something about the accountants working a special and not being able to get to it for a few days. He dialed the combination and it opened. Two of the drawers were brimming with packs of hundred-dollar bills just the way he had stacked them. Quickly, he filled the suitcases.
VICTOR RADEK kneeled over a large sheet of steel plate. He had a welding mask on and was attaching the last of four metal rings to it. When he was finished, he turned off the hissing torch and heard the muffled complaints of a woman. They were coming from the baby monitor next to him. The transmitter unit was inside the sealed wooden box a few feet away. It was roughly the size of a small coffin. He got up and went over to the box, kicking it viciously. “This is the last time I’m going to tell you to shut up, and then I’m going to take a cutting torch to the box.” The monitor fell silent.
“I’ll tell you when to start moaning for help.”
He went over to the wall and pushed a button, which activated a crane that lifted the steel plate into the air. He nodded with satisfaction at the way the huge plane of metal was balanced.
TWENTY-NINE
VAIL SAT IN HIS CAR OUTSIDE HIS HOTEL, WAITING FOR RADEK’S call. He checked his watch again; it was after 2 a.m. The suitcases were secured in the trunk. He couldn’t believe he was delivering three million dollars to a murderer for the second time.
The phone rang. “Vail,” he answered.
“Do you have the money?”
“Yes.”
“There’s a boarded-up factory on Keller Street where it dead-ends at the river. Around back you’ll find a black trash bag next to the fence. Be careful with it, there’s a laptop inside. It’s already on, so just open it and wait for my instructions.”
It took Vail less than twenty minutes to find the factory. He turned off his lights and listened, but the only thing he could hear was the occasional rush of distant traffic. As instructed, he had left his handgun in his room. He got out and went to the trunk, taking out the suitcases. Around the back of the building he found the plastic bag where Radek had said it would be. Inside was the laptop, a couple of small green lights indicating it was running. A wireless Internet card protruded from the left side. He opened the lid and immediately heard Radek’s voice.
Vail then noticed the webcam at the top of the computer. Radek was now able to watch him, but the screen was black which meant Radek was keeping his camera blocked so Vail couldn’t see him. Because of satellite technology, it was impossible to tell where he was. “In the bag are a change of clothes. Set the computer on the ground and step back so I can see you completely. Then change clothes just in case there’s something hidden in yours that will track you.” Vail did as he was told, and when he was done, Radek said, “Over against the wall are two large duffel bags. Bring them back here, and then let me watch you transfer the money—slowly. And riffle through the stacks when I tell you to so I can be sure it’s all there.”
Vail complied with the instructions and when he was done closed and secured the bags with the clips at the end of the shoulder straps. “Okay, now where’s Tye?”
“Come on, Vail, would I have made it that easy?”
“The money is staying right here until I hear Tye’s voice.”
“How about a compromise.” Radek kicked the wooden box and then held the baby monitor up to the computer speaker.
Vail heard a woman’s voice heavily muted, seemingly pleading for help.
“Okay, where to?” Vail asked.
“Get your flashlight and cell phone.” Radek w
atched as Vail transferred the devices to the pants he had been given. “Okay, climb over the fence. At the bottom of the incline is a set of railroad tracks. Follow them north for about three-quarters of a mile until you find yourself on a small overpass bridge. Below will be another set of tracks. When you get to that point, turn on the flashlight and hold it up. Then turn in a full circle so I’ll know you’re there.”
Vail tossed the two bags ahead of him and climbed over the fence. The incline was steep but not long. He half slid, half walked down until he was at the tracks. They ran alongside the narrow Los Angeles River. With the track bound by a waist-high retaining barrier, there was no room on either side of the rails to walk, so he had to step from wooden tie to tie and watch each step as the thirty-plus pounds of cash in each hand made the balancing act that much more difficult.
When he reached the overpass, he was soaked with sweat. He set the bags down and looked around, trying to figure out if Radek was around or just running him through a gauntlet to break him down physically and mentally. There were a few dots of yellow light scattered in the distance, but no apparent hiding place in the vicinity from which Radek could be watching him. As instructed, Vail switched the flashlight on and held it up, slowly turning in a complete circle. Immediately his cell rang. Wherever Radek was, he could see Vail. “Yeah.”
“Get down to the rail line below and follow it to the right.” Vail looked down and it appeared to be about a fifteen-foot difference in elevation. He released one of the bags over the side and then the other before letting himself drop to the track below. He picked up the bags and followed the track as instructed. It immediately crossed over the river and turned sharply south, back in the direction he had come from but on the opposite bank of the concrete-walled waterway.
This track seemed even narrower and he began to wonder if a train was scheduled, another obstacle that it would have been like Radek to throw in. Fifteen minutes later he found himself passing under the same road he had traveled beneath when he started out. He was back to where he had started but on the other side of the river, the shadow of the factory up on the rise.
