by Jonas Saul
“Am I sure?” she gasped. “Am I sure? Haven’t I been doing this for the past six plus years? You knew that walking in.”
“Okay, fair enough, but Rome?”
“I’m sure there’ll be stops in Toronto along the way. Also, vacations. Besides, I’m not moving to Italy. I just have a job there.”
“I can’t come with you. I can’t drop my classes.”
“I didn’t ask you to. They gave me a ticket, not you.”
“I know, I know, but I wasn’t sure if you made dinner and, well, you know, tried to make me think a certain way.”
She squinted her eyes at him. “Come on. When am I manipulative? You forget who you’re talking to.”
“So a long distance relationship? Is that it?”
“Aaron, I have to do this. Here.” She handed him Russell’s note.
He opened it and read everything.
“When were you going to show me this?”
She sipped her wine. “You’re not really asking inane questions again, are you? Do I have to answer that?”
“So I guess that’s it?”
“Aaron, have you heard of a man named Martin Luther King?”
“What? Of course. Why?”
“He said, ‘All that needs to happen for evil to prevail is that good men do nothing.’” She paused to let it sink in. “I’m a good person. I cannot stand it when horrible people take and steal from others, hurting them or killing them. With Vivian, if I can do something, then why the hell not?”
He nodded and moved to the couch.
“He also said,” she continued, “the day we see the truth and cease to speak is the day we begin to die. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. Do you understand? That’s why my mouth gets me in so much trouble.”
He grabbed the colored cube sitting on the coffee table beside him and held it up. “It takes an average of about sixty to seventy attempts to solve a Rubik’s Cube. If done right, any Rubik’s Cube combination can be solved in seventeen turns.” He set the cube down. “That’s you.”
“How so?” she asked and sipped her wine.
“You’re that puzzling for me, but I keep trying to figure you out, understand you. With each try, I get closer. One day, when I know you even more, it’ll only take me about a dozen tries to get it. But you’ve helped this time. You’re right. You have to go.” He held Russell’s note up. “Forget that Russell said you’d be dead if you didn’t, I still think you should go. It’s the right thing for you. It’s who you and Vivian have become.”
That softened her heart, tears welling in her eyes. To avoid him seeing them, she leaned forward and set her glass down.
“Be careful trying to understand women. Women understand women and hate each other.”
He laughed.
“There are statues all over the world,” Sarah said. “What historical figure has more statues representing them than any other?”
“I have no idea.”
“Joan of Arc. In France alone there are roughly forty-thousand of them. Now there’s a young woman who fought for what she thought was right and died young doing it. Now, mind you, I’m not likening myself to her, nor do I want to die young, but that stands for something and so do I.”
He got up from the couch and sat opposite her on the edge of the coffee table. He took her hand in his.
“Sarah, I’m just overly worried I’m going to lose you and I’m selfish. I want you all to myself. You can understand that, right?”
She nodded.
“Go, see the world. But do something for me.”
“What’s that?”
“Stay safe and kick some ass.”
She smiled and leaned back in her chair, tears in her eyes.
“You think this is easy for me?” she asked. “I’m in love with you, Aaron. But I can’t be held down right now. I’ve got work to do. I’m an official consultant to the FBI now. This is my time to nab as many assholes as I can and Vivian is on board. We all have to make sacrifices and I’m prepared to make mine.”
“People go off to war all the time,” Aaron said. “This is just a different kind.”
“Exactly. Now, take me to bed and remind me why we do this shit.”
“What shit?”
“Relationships. Or should I call it relationshit?”
They stood at the same time and walked hand in hand down the hall to the bedroom.
A chapter in Sarah’s life was closing and a new one was opening. She hoped Rome would be good to her. She hoped the FBI would step up when she needed them to. Maybe they would renew a little faith in law enforcement.
As soon as they were undressed, her cell phone rang.
“Leave it,” Aaron said. “I’ve still got you for ten days.”
“Let me at least see who’s calling.”
Sarah picked up the phone Kierian had given her. Call display said it was him.
“Shit, I have to take this. It’s Kierian.”
“Great, he’s already taking you from me.”
“Don’t be like that. It doesn’t add to your masculinity.”
She flicked the button and held it to her ear.
“Sarah?”
“Yeah.”
“Where are you? What are you doing?”
She snuck a glance at Aaron. “Really? That’s how you tell me why you’ve called? By asking me what I’m doing?”
“Russell Anderson. That’s your cousin, right?”
Her interest piqued, she turned from Aaron and stepped to the bedroom window.
“What about it?” she whispered.
“I got a letter. I was in my office, going through my mail and found one with no return address.”
“And?”
“It said that you cannot be at Aaron’s apartment on a certain date.”
She turned back to Aaron who shrugged at her. “What date? Did it mention a time?”
“Sarah, I have a car en route. They’re about twenty minutes out.”
“What else did it fucking say?” she shouted into the phone. “Tell me everything.”
“It said if you’re found in Aaron’s apartment tonight, at …” he paused, “…right now, that the advance team would win.”
“Advance team?” she said as she stumbled across the bedroom looking for her clothes.
“The American I told you we’re supposed to deal with in Rome has discovered somehow that you’re working with us and that we’re going to Rome. He’s sent a team of men to neutralize you.”
“What?” she shouted into the phone. “A team? Neutralize me? And how would he know this kind of information? Did you talk? How does he fucking know?”
“I don’t know,” Kierian shouted back. She detected panic in his voice. “All I know is what this letter from Russell said. Are you there right now?”
“Yes.”
She found her panties and jeans and tried to get dressed with the phone jammed between her cheek and her shoulder.
“Get out. Get out now.”
“I’m going. Take it easy. But I’m going to have questions for you. Someone has to pay for this. I’m seriously pissed now.”
“I agree. I’m already on it.”
“Is Aaron in danger?”
“Only if he’s there tonight.”
She ended the call and tossed the phone on the bed.
“Get dressed. We’re leaving.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Sarah bolted across the room, her ribs protesting, and jammed Aaron back against the wall. “You are leaving and you will do it my way, or you will be in mortal danger.”
“Is that what Vivian wrote?”
She stepped back, stunned. “What?”
“When I came home earlier today and you were sleeping, there was a piece of paper and a pen on the bed beside you. I put it over there.”
The paper sat beside the pen on the top of Aaron’s dresser. Sarah lunged over the bed and grabbed it.
Do not stay at Aaron’s tonight
. Find a hotel. Then move underground until your flight to Rome. The team sent to remove you will be in Rome days later. You’ll deal with them on Italian soil.
“And you never thought to tell me about this?” she asked as she tossed it to him.
As he read it, she grabbed her shirt and slipped into it.
“I didn’t read it,” Aaron said. “I thought I’d show it to you tonight after dinner.” He looked up, still naked. “How did Kierian know?”
“Russell’s daughter knew this would happen.” She flicked her hand at the note. “So she had Russell send a letter to Kierian. Lucky for us, he got to his mail in time. He’s sending a car. They’ll be here in—”
There was a loud knock on the door.
“Shit, hurry up,” Sarah whispered. “Get dressed.”
Aaron grabbed his jeans and hopped into them.
The knock came again.
Aaron grabbed his sweater as Sarah moved to the bedroom door and waited.
“Nobody threatens me in my own apartment. I’m going to open that door and teach them a—”
Sarah spun on him and pushed him against the wall again. “You want to die? You have a death wish? If we could win here tonight, Vivian would’ve said something. When she says vacate the premises, that’s what it means. Now, follow me. We’re leaving.”
Aaron followed her down the hall and into the living room.
They knocked harder. Something big banged against the door.
Sarah slid the balcony door open and stepped out. It was a few weeks until spring, but the balcony was cleared of snow. The jump would only be about ten feet.
Both of them climbed onto the railing and stopped to look at each other.
Something banged inside the apartment.
Sarah looked back and saw the entire lock mechanism and door handle blast off the door. Then it was smashed open.
At least seven masked men ran inside, each turning down the hall and into the kitchen, large guns in their hands.
She looked at Aaron, smiled and shrugged.
“Such is my life.”
Then she teetered over and was lost to the air.
The Vigilante is dedicated to all the readers who love Sarah Roberts. Thank you for your continued support over the years.
One of my long-term friends and golf partner, Alan Penn, has a special dedication in this novel. The Detective in Charge, Alan Lyson and the FBI agent, Penn Kierian were both named after him. Thank you, Alan - I look forward to our next game together.
Be well, and get caught reading …
Jonas Saul
PUBLISHED BY:
Imagine Press Inc.
ISBN: 978-1-927404-25-6
The Vigilante
Copyright © 2013 by Jonas Saul
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
The Rogue
by
Jonas Saul
Chapter 1
Parkman refused to believe that Sarah Roberts was dead. He would have to see the body with his own eyes. There could be no other way. Vivian, her dead sister, would’ve protected Sarah. It was Vivian who sent her on sojourns that came with a degree of danger, but Sarah always walked away. Injuries, yes. Broken bones, sure. But death? Never.
How could Sarah be killed doing Vivian’s bidding? It wasn’t right.
Parkman fiddled with a toothpick that hung loosely from his mouth. He leaned back in the KLM aircraft seat and waited for the plane to taxi in to the Fiumicino Airport gate in Rome. A rental car waited for him.
A few days ago, while investigating details for Sarah, he had discovered new information, but couldn’t get a hold of her. After waiting patiently to hear from her, and monitoring the Italian news of the area she was in, he had read about an explosion in a restaurant that had leveled it and the hotel above it in the historical center of Umbertide, Italy.
The names of the deceased weren’t listed in the news article, but Parkman knew Sarah had to be connected in some way. After four hours of calls to the Italian authorities in Umbertide, he finally got through to an American stationed there, working a case. A man named Scott McPherson. Scott told Parkman that one of the deceased was in fact an American girl named Sarah Roberts and preferred if he could stop calling every officer in Italy about it. Since Parkman knew Sarah and was a former police officer, McPherson asked if he could come to Italy to positively identify the body so next of kin could be notified.
Parkman bought the next ticket out of the San Francisco Airport. That was twelve hours ago and one layover in Amsterdam.
A wobbly tear escaped his eye, drifted down his cheek, and dropped to his wrist.
Oh Sarah, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m so sorry …
Chapter 2
Five days before …
“Come this way,” Sarah Roberts whispered loud enough for Aaron to hear.
They jumped from the balcony of his second floor apartment. Sarah ducked under it for cover. Aaron followed and nudged up close.
Above them, men clambered onto Aaron’s balcony and spoke in hushed tones. Any second, they would jump off the balcony in pursuit.
She bumped his arm again and whispered, “This way.”
She worked her way along the building, staying close to the brick wall. The cold didn’t bother her. Running didn’t bother her. Her gun, still in the apartment, bothered her. It should be on her. She might as well be naked.
Aaron stayed right at her heels as they turned the corner of the building. She moved in the shadows, leading him toward the front of the building where they might find cover under a vehicle or behind a large tree until the car FBI Agent Penn Kierian had sent could pick them up.
Before dropping off the balcony and just as their apartment door burst open, she had counted seven well-trained, well-armed men in assault gear.
How could the one man in Italy she had agreed to hunt down as a consultant with the FBI locate Aaron’s apartment in Toronto and organize an attack within days? How powerful and connected could Sam ‘The Dealer’ Marconi be?
He had to be quite connected to pull this off. Once she was in his sights, he would never go away until she ended it, until she executed him. Tonight’s threat only made her want to increase the pressure on him. For coming after Aaron, she wanted to kill The Dealer with her own hands.
“Slow down,” she whispered. “I have to make sure they don’t have men waiting for us at the front.”
An organized attack would have the building surrounded. But so far she hadn’t detected anyone on the ground.
At the corner, she had Aaron watch their back as she peeked around it. A four-door Lincoln sat parked at the front of the building. A young couple were getting out, thanking whoever was still inside for the lovely evening.
Nothing else moved.
If men were watching the front, they were well hidden.
The Lincoln pulled away, stopped at the exit and turned onto the road, moving slowly in the light snow that fell around them.
She turned back to Aaron. “I can’t be sure, but it looks clear up front. Our ride isn’t here yet.”
“We need a place to hide. Those guys are going to be here at any moment—”
Scuffling sounded behind them.
They looked at each other.
“Shit,” Sarah said. “Let’s move. Go!”
Sarah led the way around to the front of the apartment building just as The Dealer’s advance team rounded the corner thirty feet behind them.
All the way up the sidewalk, she thanked the skies that the snow hadn’t fallen fast enough to make the sidewalk slippery yet.
A horn blared on the street.
A car spun out as it tried to enter the access road to the building. Its tires spun in search of purchase, the car slid sideways until a snow bank arrested its slide. The engine revved and the vehicle propelled forward.
