Omari pulled out his phone and held it up to Sam. “This your number?”
“It is.”
“Wait here until I call you and tell you what the guys outside are wearing and where they are.”
“Don’t make it obvious,” Sam said.
“You’re welcome,” Omari said as he walked away.
“I like him,” King said.
“He’s a bit of a wild card.”
“Even better.”
Sam left to check on the man she’d knocked unconscious, and King pulled out his phone to dial Kyle.
“How’d the interview go?” Kyle answered.
“Still going. Listen, we’ve run into some trouble. Drop what you’re doing and get to Barclays on Oxford. Hang back until I approach you, unless you see us in trouble.”
“What’s going on?”
“See you in a few.”
King ended the call just as Sam walked back over.
“I had to hit him again,” she said.
“Is it weird that Mr. Deposit Box, who would barely leave our room, hasn’t been back here to check on us?”
Sam leaned out and checked the hallway. “Maybe. But he’s not going anywhere. Let’s put a pin in it.”
Sam’s phone began ringing. “It’s Omari.”
She hit the speaker button.
“One on the bench holding a navy-blue umbrella at your ten o’clock when you exit. Took me a minute to find the other guy, he’s in a black Volkswagen Golf across the street. Lots of people. Unless you want a mess, or to be followed, I’d find a back exit. I’m there now and it looks clear.”
“Nice work, Omari. We’ll see you at the airport.” Sam ended the call, pocketed her phone, and looked up at King. “Let’s go see the banker.”
8
King and Sam left the two dead men and the one still alive as they started for the lobby. The man Sam had knocked out had once again found consciousness. King left after pointing out to him the two dead men and warning him that if he moved in the next ten minutes, he’d end up like them. There was nothing to tie him up with, so the threat would have to do. Both King and Sam straightened their clothes, tucked away their firearms, and walked out of the safety deposit box viewing area like nothing had ever happened.
When they entered the bank’s lobby, they steered around customers to make their way toward the offices. King had been wondering if the banker had anything to do with alerting the men who had come for him, but when he caught his first glimpse of the banker standing in the lobby, and the reflexive look of shock on his face, the wondering was over.
The man held up both hands as if to say he was sorry; then he waved them away from the lobby toward some offices. He walked around and stood behind his desk, looked around his office as if there may be a place to hide or a window to jump out of, then straightened his sport coat and forced a smile.
“S-sorry I took so long coming back to you. I got busy with paperwork, then the phone rang, and—”
“Save it,” King said. He and Sam had stepped inside the man’s small office. King’s eyes found a photo of two kids. “The men you let come after us back there? They’re all dead. And unless you want to end up like them, you’ll walk us out the back. Right now.” King made sure the banker followed his eyes to the picture of his children.
“I—”
King raised his shirt to show his gun as he shook his head. The man stopped talking and nodded. He took a shaky step around his desk and rushed past the two of them. King and Sam followed—King’s eyes were focused on the front entrance. All seemed clear at the moment. The banker moved to his left, opened a door, and led the two of them into a quiet hallway.
The man spoke without turning around. “You have to believe me, I had no idea they were going to come after you like that.”
“We don’t believe you,” King said. “But if you want to live, you’ll tell us who they are.”
The man pushed open the back door. Before he could think about running, King grabbed his right arm, spun him around, and pinned him against the brick wall on the other side of the alley. It was still raining, but it had slowed to a drizzle.
“You get one shot at this,” King said. “Don’t mess it up. Who are they?”
The man’s bushy brown eyebrows raised as his eyes widened. He could see in King’s eyes that he wasn’t playing around.
“I promise, I’ll tell you everything I know. Just please don’t kill me.”
King didn’t waver. “Who are they?”
The man put both his hands up. “I just have to reach into my lapel pocket.”
Instead, King opened the man’s sport coat and removed a white envelope. He thumbed it open with one hand; there was a wad of British pounds inside. “Start explaining.”
King loosened his grip on the man. The man adjusted his tie and took a calming breath.
“As soon as the three of you pulled away from the funeral yesterday in the cab, three men were waiting for me at my car.”
“What kind of men?”
“They were British. But not suits. Probably just some thugs hired for cheap by whoever wanted whatever was in Ms. Harrison’s deposit box.”
“Okay. What happened next?”
“One of them offered me five grand to call when she came to open the box. I declined, but they told me that they weren’t asking me. I was going to decline again, but he held up a picture of my family on his cell phone. I’m really sorry, I didn’t know what to do.”
Sam took a step forward. “You could have called me.”
The man hung his head. “You’re right. I was scared. I didn’t want them to hurt my family.”
King turned to Sam. “What now?”
Sam looked at the banker. “How’d you get the money?”
“I just told you, they gave it to me to call them—”
“I mean just now. Who dropped off the envelope?”
“It was on my desk after I brought you the box.”
King turned to Sam. “They were waiting for us to come today. No way they got here that fast without staking out the bank.”
Sam wiped raindrops from her forehead and pulled her ponytail tight as she held a sour look. “I told you this would be nothing but trouble. But you just wouldn’t listen.”
Then her phone rang.
“It’s Kyle,” she announced before answering the phone.
Sirens started up in the distance. King assumed someone had discovered the bodies.
Sam spoke to Kyle. “We’re in the alley behind the bank. Where are you?” She waited a beat. “Don’t stand out. Two of the men who were trying to kill us are out front.” Another beat. “Yes, I said trying to kill us. Do you see a man on the bench just outside the entrance with a navy-blue umbrella?” She waited for Kyle to answer, then turned to King and shook her head. “Okay, what about a black Volkswagen Golf across the street somewhere?”
King spoke to the banker while Sam waited for Kyle to respond. “If they contact you again, call us immediately. Do you understand?”
The man’s floppy ears wobbled, he nodded his head so fast.
“Get the hell out of here.”
The man didn’t hesitate. He was off, and King turned back to Sam.
“Meet us at the hotel. We’re leaving now.” Sam ended the call. “Whoever they are, they’ve gone.”
“Then let’s get the hell out of here before the cops show up.”
Sam nodded, and the two of them weaved through the alley across from them to the next street. King spotted a cab and hailed it.
“So we’re going to the airport. Where we going after that?”
“Monte Carlo.”
“That where you were with Thomas in the picture?”
The cab pulled up, and the two of them got in. Sam told the driver the name of their hotel, then turned to King. “We went to Monte Carlo on our honeymoon.”
“Ooh,” King smiled. “Romantic.”
“Yeah, the thirty-six-hour poker bender Thomas went on was
a real panty dropper. So was the chase afterward when he didn’t pay his side bet that he’d made with someone he’d lost to.”
King shook his head. “And the number on the back of the photo, you remember what it is now?”
“It’s the room where we stayed at the Hotel de Paris.”
“O . . . kay. And I suppose we’re going there now because you might know why he left this mysterious clue?”
“No, Xander. We’re going there now because you forced me to go look in that deposit box. And while we were there, some people tried to kill us. I don’t know what is waiting for us in Monte Carlo, but it must be something bad.”
“Or something worth a lot of money,” King said.
“Yeah, well, whatever it is, I hope you’re happy with yourself.”
“Me?” King acted like he was appalled. “He’s your ex-husband. You should have known whatever was in that safety deposit box would have been nothing but trouble.”
King was the only one who laughed at his own joke. Sam just let out a deep sigh and stared out the window—fuming.
9
“You don’t have any idea who they were?” Kyle asked Sam as King stuffed his things in his bag.
The rain had let up on the way to the hotel, but Sam’s disdain for the situation hadn’t. She was in as bad of a mood as King had ever seen.
“No idea yet,” Sam said.
“Well, apparently they knew your ex, right?”
“The men knowing enough about Thomas not only to be at his funeral to talk to the banker but also to know about the safety deposit box . . . yeah, I’d say it’s a safe assumption they knew Thomas in some way.”
“You think they are Thomas’s men?”
King watched to see Sam’s reaction. He could tell the thought hadn’t crossed her mind.
“I’m not really sure if Thomas even had those types of men.”
“So we don’t know shit,” Kyle said.
Sam stood and began to pace. “That is why you and Dbie are staying here in London. Not only do we need to know who the men at the bank were, but I need you to find out all there is to know about Thomas and the last ten years of his business and personal life.”
“We can do that,” Dbie said from the corner of the room.
“What?” Kyle said. “No. We are going to Monte Carlo with you. Clearly something big is waiting for you there.”
“We don’t know that,” Sam said. “This could all be just some misunderstanding. Those men could have thought something important was in that deposit box.”
“You don’t think there was?” King said.
“It’s a hotel room number. You think something magical will happen if we walk into that room?”
“Hell if I know,” King said. “You’re the one with the secret ex who gave you a secret deposit box. For all I know, a briefcase with nuclear codes could be waiting inside that room.”
“Yes. That’s what this is, Xander. My ex-husband getting the nuclear codes off his conscience. Oh, wait, he’s dead. He doesn’t even have a conscience.”
“All I’m saying is it’s obviously something, and you think so too. Otherwise, Monte Carlo would be the last place you would ever want to go. You would avoid it like you tried to avoid opening that envelope and going to open the safety deposit box.”
Sam was quiet.
“Look,” Kyle said, “I don’t really care about whether your ex is involved or not, Sam. Take him out of this completely. If this situation was what it is without him, there is no question you would dive in headfirst.”
“Just what the hell do you think I’m doing?” Sam shouted. “We’re going to check out Monte Carlo. You two are investigating the men at the bank and Thomas’s past. Let’s just get on with it. We have Omari going with us. Someone with no affiliation to us. That will help keep this quiet and give us an asset no one knows about like they clearly know about me and Xander. Now just report back to me everything you find, and let’s get beyond this so we can focus on the real problem—the list of agents who might all be in danger. Can we not forget about that, please?”
King, Kyle, and Dbie were all quiet. King zipped up his bag and readied it to roll to the car.
Dbie cleared her throat. “Like I said, Sam. We can do that. No problem.”
Kyle looked over at Dbie, then back to Sam, who was still breathing heavy from her little tirade. “Fine. I hate exotic locations on the beach anyway.”
“All right then,” King said. “We’ll send you a postcard from the honeymoon.”
King looked back over his shoulder as he walked out of the room. He was happy to see he had at least drawn a smirk from Sam’s face. “You all be careful, and don’t have too much fun here by yourselves.” King said to Kyle and Dbie as he started down the hall. He grabbed Sam’s bag for her and headed for the elevator.
The two of them rode down the elevator in silence. Most of the cab ride to the airport went the same way, until Sam’s phone began ringing.
“It’s Director Lucas,” she said.
“You going to mention our latest exploits at the bank, or you just going to let him find out we were there after someone discovers us on the security cameras?”
“Let’s stick to finding out what he knows about this list of agents for now.”
“Works for me.”
Sam answered the call. “Hello, Robert.” She then shared one of her earbuds so King could hear and also so she could keep the driver from listening in on the sensitive conversation. “I’m here with Xander.”
“All right. Here’s what I know and what I can say. There is a clandestine team made up of interagency operatives. But we have zero reason to believe that it is compromised.”
King jumped in first. “Except of course for the entirely credible reason we gave you.”
“How is a tip from a drug-running thug like Ortega anywhere in the stratosphere of credible?” Director Lucas scoffed.
King laughed. “Sounds like we should just quit calling you entirely then.”
“Maybe so, seeing as how you are completely out of the loop now. Go save a gun shipment from being hijacked for the Russians or something.”
“Okay, boys,” Sam said. “Both of you relax. Robert, we were just calling to keep you in the loop. If there is such a clandestine group that does exist, just like the list of names Ortega described to me, that should be reason enough for you to worry. If not, we can make our own decisions on what we want to take on as a team, and what not to. But it would be a lot easier to make good decisions for ourselves, and for the country you are sworn to protect, if you work with us instead of against us.”
Director Lucas was quiet for a moment. King couldn’t understand what his problem was. Had it really hurt his feelings that bad when King decided to take his team out on his own? More than likely it was the way King had gone over his head to the president to get the release that made him so butt hurt. But King didn’t get why it mattered anymore. Especially when the safety of Lucas’s own agents could be in trouble. And King’s disgust for the way Lucas was being so flippant spilled out into words.
“Just forget it, Lucas. We’ve got other fish to fry anyway. Hope it works out for you.”
King removed his earpiece. Sam ended the call even though Director Lucas was still making his rebuttal.
“I don’t understand what he’s doing,” King said.
“Maybe he doesn’t want this to get out because it makes him look bad if an entire operation is burnt.”
King nodded and undid his seat belt as the cab approached the private aviation side of Hartsfield Airport. “Maybe. But it seems that’s exactly why he would want us on it. So we could fix it and keep it quiet.”
“Yeah, I thought the same thing,” she said.
“So does that mean we are done with it?”
“Let’s see if Dbie and Kyle can turn anything up while we go on our Thomas goose chase in Monte Carlo.”
“Okay, but keep in touch with Ortega, would you? And try to find out i
f Sarah really is one of the possible agents in trouble.”
“I will,” Sam said. They both exited the cab. “You know you don’t have to run this down with me, right?”
King raised an eyebrow. “You can’t be serious. There isn’t anything in the world I want to do more than see what awaits in room 323 at the Hotel de Paris.”
Sam paid the driver, and he pulled away.
“I have a feeling you’re going to be terribly disappointed, but I’d rather have you along just in case more of the men from the bank happen to show up.”
“Yeah, me too,” King said. “But just don’t get mad at me like you did Thomas if I want to play a little poker while we’re there.”
This time Sam didn’t even roll her eyes. She just turned and walked into the aviation building.
“Nothing?”
Sam didn’t turn around.
“Kyle would have thought it was funny,” he said to himself as he jogged to catch up.
10
Alexander King’s Gulfstream 650, white with black and silver trim, sat at the start of the runway, collecting the drizzle of London rain as it waited to take off. Inside, the white carpet and white leather seats gave way to a mahogany wall at the back that separated the bathroom from the main cabin. It was pure opulence. And it was something King was still getting used to after being away from this type of luxury for so long. It almost felt as if it wasn’t his.
It had seemed a lifetime ago when he and the team were jetting around, taking care of the bad guys they had chosen on their own. Waiting until the day King could find whoever had killed his family. Now that all that was behind him and he knew the truth, the wealth his crooked father left behind almost felt dirty. But as he took a sip of the Michter’s Toasted Barrel Strength Bourbon sitting neat in his glass, he figured he could manage. After the wars he’d fought, he deserved it.
“You serious with this stuff?” Omari took a sip of the same bourbon. Then he motioned around him at the interior of the plane. “And all this? Is this how you usually roll?”
Power Move (Alexander King Book 4) Page 4
