by Alaska Jones
There’s an angry silence on the other end, then a string of hushed orders. “How did you find it?”
“It doesn’t matter. We’ll talk when you get here. Oh, and pass it on to Dwight, will you?”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then this place will be crawling with cops by noon.”
He takes a few seconds to think before saying, “Fine. Don’t do anything stupid, Cage.”
I snort, disconnecting the call, and put the earpiece on as I call Lincoln. “Don’t get too comfy, Robot Boy. They’re coming here.”
“Don’t call me that,” he protests.
“What you gonna do?”
I hang up with a grin, looking out over the mist-covered rooftops. The sun is already starting to warm up the cold stone, but it’s still somewhat dim. By the time the first car shows up on the same road that we used, I know every rooftop and pipe in the area. The gray Land Cruiser makes a big detour around the warehouse before stopping by the red brick building.
My earpiece clicks. “Someone’s here.”
“I see that…” I watch the car disappear between the buildings. “Does Hunt drive a gray Land Cruiser?”
“No, it’s a Porsche Cayenne.”
“Thought so. Sit tight and stay on the line.”
Next thing I see, there’s a man with a rifle case climbing the building’s fire escape, and I can’t help the smirk on my face. Fool me once… Hunt and Dwight should be here shortly.
I watch him assemble his rifle and turn to the warehouse, paying little attention to everything else. He takes out his cell phone and makes a short call, and soon enough, I see a black Porsche coming our way. It stops in a few yards from the warehouse, and two men get out of it, followed by Hunt. Lincoln was right – even through his thick gray sweater, I can see he’s wearing body armor. His movements are stiff as he reaches into his pocket and takes out his phone.
The guard’s phone starts buzzing on the concrete next to me. “I’m here,” he says. “Open the door.”
“What about Dwight?”
“He’s not coming.”
I blink. Has Dwight chickened out, or has Hunt decided to go over his head and deal with me on his own? Both my plans won’t work if Dwight’s not here, I realize. Whether I get Hunt arrested or kill him, Dwight will lie low, and I’ll never see the end of it. Fuck.
I need a new plan.
“That’s too bad,” I remember that Hunt is waiting for my response. If he gets back in the car, I’m screwed, so there’s only one option. “The door is open. Come in with your hands behind your head, and we’ll talk,” I distract him, making sure my position is comfortable. The moment he moves, I turn to the shitty sniper and aim at his shoulder. Eye for an eye, fucker. With a deep breath, I pull the trigger.
I wish I could watch him panic and run, but I’m too busy shooting Hunt’s ear off, secretly wishing I missed and hit him in the head. His men lunge forward, only to back off when they see the blood on his face, and I fire another one at his chest to knock him out. They linger, crouched behind the car, until I persuade them to leave with a few more close shots. The tires squeal as they hop into the Porsche and disappear around the corner.
The whole thing takes about ten seconds.
“The hell just happened??” Lincoln’s voice fills my ears. My focus is on the Land Cruiser that’s racing in another direction.
“Hunt is by the warehouse door. Go get him and come pick me up,” I order Lincoln. “Try to knock him out before he shoots you. I’ll cover.” Lincoln doesn’t lose a second as he guides the Jeep between the buildings and out to the road.
Hunt stirs and raises a hand to his head, turning to look at the approaching car. Don’t make me shoot you again. Too bad he can’t hear me, because I can see his hand reaching behind his back as he pulls up into a sitting position, gasping for air.
“He’s got a gun. Careful, Robot Boy.”
“I’m going to drive your car into the wall,” Lincoln mutters as he pulls up a few yards away from Hunt. “Anthony, it’s Lincoln! Don’t shoot!” I hear him yell.
Hunt blinks and winces. I don’t know what he’s saying, but he doesn’t look too friendly when Lincoln steps out from behind the car with his arms raised in the air.
“No, Charlie’s not here,” I hear him say. “Are you hurt?” He takes a step forward, only to stop short when Hunt raises his gun with a shaking hand.
“I’m shooting him, get back!” I order Lincoln, but the stubborn boy stays where he is.
“Give me a sec.” He raises his voice for Hunt to hear. “Put down the gun! I’m unarmed!”
Hunt says something and raises the gun higher.
“Get back, NOW!” I snarl, aiming at Hunt’s hand and pulling the trigger just as Lincoln dives behind the Jeep’s open door. Hunt drops the gun, and I yell into the earpiece, “Go, go, go!”
Pressing his bleeding hand to his stomach, Hunt tries to get up, only to fall back on the ground as Lincoln’s fist connects with his face. Fucking mess, I grumble inwardly, shaking my head. Lincoln runs to the Jeep and opens the trunk, then grabs the unconscious Hunt by the belt and drags him to the car with disturbing ease, as if it’s a bag of groceries, not a six-foot-tall man. I can’t blame Charlie for exploiting the young man’s abilities anymore.
“Get off the road first, then tie him up,” I instruct him.
“Roger that.” He gets into the driver’s seat, raising a cloud of dust as he spins the Jeep and leaves the road behind.
I scan the area one more time before dissembling the rifle. “All clear. I’m coming down.”
“Almost done,” he replies. “He’s bleeding pretty bad.”
“I’ll take care of that once we get out of here.”
I wait for him by the fire escape, taking off my earpiece when I see the Jeep speeding up toward me.
“First aid under the passenger seat,” I say, putting the rifle in the back and folding one of the backseats. Lincoln tosses me the box as I get inside.
“Where to?”
“Downtown.”
I put on rubber gloves and wrap Hunt’s hand in gauze as we move through traffic. His injuries are far from serious, and his pulse is steady, but all the blood makes it look pretty grim. Grinning devilishly as I imagine Dwight’s reaction at what comes next, I put away the first aid kit and check the restraints on Hunt’s feet. Lincoln did everything right.
“Can you pull over somewhere for a minute?”
Without a word, Lincoln finds a spot and stops the car.
“Are you going to tell me the plan now?” he asks as I open my laptop to check on Dwight’s location. It looks like he’s on his way to his favorite restaurant, as usual in the morning. He probably still doesn’t know anything.
“Why? Wasn’t it fun back there?” I say absently, thinking about the last part of the plan. Basically, it all came down to what I initially planned.
“You’re seriously messed up.”
“Welcome to the club.” I smirk at him, grabbing my bag. “There’s a small coffee shop across from a restaurant, Ricardo’s, do you know it?”
“Yeah, four blocks down and to the right.”
“We need to stay off Maple Ave, so Dwight doesn’t see us when he gets there. His driver will drop him off at the restaurant’s front doors and go down to the parking lot. We need the driver.”
“Car?”
“Black Mercedes E-Class. He’s just two blocks away,” I say, looking at the laptop screen. Lincoln speeds up, crossing the street at the last moment and cutting someone off at the underground parking entrance. “The hell you doing?”
“We’ve got just enough time to be there first.”
I shake my head, but agree with him in my head. He drives past a few free spots and parks by the far wall. A minute later, Dwight’s Mercedes shows up in the rearview mirror.
“Stay here. I don’t want him to see you.” I take out my Beretta and open the door, watching Wayne park the car between two vans. “Unloc
k the trunk.”
Wayne doesn’t see me coming. He flinches when I clamp my hand on his mouth and put the gun to his head. “Quiet. I’m here to save your ass in exchange for a small favor.” I shove him behind a van and let go of him, keeping the gun up.
“Shoot me if you want, I ain’t doing you any favors!” he spits out angrily, staring me down.
“You might wanna hear me out before you make any decisions. The cops are about to get some very interesting info on your boss. They will arrest him in a matter of minutes, and you’ll get mixed up in an ugly, complicated investigation. Something tells me you’ve got a thing or two to hide as well. But I’ve got another option for you – help me set up Dwight, and in return, I’ll see that you’re left out of this.”
“Why would I trust you, you crazy son of a bitch? I’ll just leave now, and you can go fuck yourself, together with Dwight and Hunt and everybody else.”
“Because if you leave now, you won’t get the money that I was going to transfer to you as a parting gift. I’m feeling pretty generous today, you know?” I try a different approach, not surprised that threats didn’t work on him. Besides, using Dwight’s money to set him up seems like the best idea I’ve ever had.
“Parting gift, my ass!” he spits on the concrete floor between us, but there’s a greedy glimmer in his eye. “How much?”
“Fifty grand.”
He snorts. “Two hundred.”
“One hundred.”
“Deal,” he grunts.
I extend my hand, barely holding back my surprise. “Happy retirement, Wayne.”
“Oh, fuck off,” he mutters, but shakes my hand.
A few minutes later, having got rid of Hunt and given Wayne the necessary instructions, I pull up in a narrow alley four buildings down from the restaurant.
“Go wait in the coffee shop,” I tell Lincoln. “It’ll be at least twenty minutes.”
“Where are you going?”
“To say my goodbyes.” I watch him open the door and step out on the sidewalk. “Get me a coffee. Black.”
He gives me his usual frowned look and walks away, and I check the contents of my bag before getting out of the car myself. I need to get to the roof. The buildings here are close enough for me to move from one to another without any problem. I dial Doug’s number as I walk through the doors and head to the staircase.
“The corner of Maple Avenue and Eighth,” I say as a way of greeting. “You have fifteen minutes.”
“Got it.”
After our conversation last night, he’s got a team ready for Dwight’s arrest. I promised him he’d have enough evidence to get the FBI off his back, but I would need a favor in return that wouldn’t compromise him professionally. He’s about to find out that what I really need is an opportunity to speak before I leave. The intersection that I’ve given him is a couple blocks away from the restaurant. This way, he’ll be able to get there in time, and I won’t risk getting trapped.
I jog across the rooftops, crossing one building, then another, until I can see the restaurant’s front doors from the roof that I’m on. It’s far enough from where I parked, and Doug won’t have a doubt that I’m here. I know he’s got another team prepared for my arrest. He wouldn’t be Doug Miller if he didn’t.
By the time I get a text from Wayne that says 5 min, I’m all set up. I pick up my prepaid phone with a gloved hand and call Doug.
“Your team ready?” I turn on the speakerphone, putting the phone on the vent shaft in front of me.
“Yes.”
“Okay. Listen and don’t interrupt. Dwight is at Ricardo’s right now. In five minutes, he will come out, and a black Mercedes E-Class will be waiting outside for him. The driver will then get out of the car, lock him inside, leave the keys on the hood and walk away. You won’t follow him. That’s the favor I told you about. You don’t need that guy anyway…”
I look at my watch and step back as the small recorder next to the phone keeps talking in my voice. Doug won’t interrupt. He’ll be too busy rushing here to arrest me, ignoring the voice of reason as it tells him that I would never let him track me down like this. It’s a cruel goodbye joke, I think as I run back to the place where I parked the Jeep. But it’s also the much needed opportunity to speak and be heard, something you can’t do in fifty seconds.
The recorder will go on for another three minutes. It had a different message when I left the mansion this morning. I think about what he’s hearing on the phone as I run: After you arrest Dwight, check the glove compartment. There’s a plastic folder with everything I’ve got on him. Don’t let him get away, or it’ll end badly for both of us. Also, check the trunk – there’s another surprise for you. And don’t give the one I left on the roof to the forensics. That would be a waste, since you won’t find any prints there. It doesn’t matter anymore – I meant what I said in the note. Don’t waste another two years looking for me, because this time, it’ll be next to impossible and way too dangerous. You and I both know that if I wanted to get rid of you, I would’ve done it a long time ago. Enjoy your retirement, Doug. I’m sure your wife and kids will appreciate you being at home, rather than chasing some ghost across the continent. Take care.
He’ll know that my mentioning his family is nothing but a subtle threat. A reminder that I’ve always been five steps ahead, and if he comes to ruin my clean slate, I will ruin him.
I make a detour around the block before pulling up by the coffee shop’s side door. Lincoln spots me through the window and holds up a hand. I know that even as I walk in and take a seat across from him, Doug up there on the roof finds the phone, the recorder, and the bottle of whiskey that I left for him, once again, with a note underneath – To OUR retirement. I wonder if by now, he knows better than to get angry and probably just laughs at having been fooled like that.
“Here they come…” Lincoln murmurs, sipping his coffee as he looks out the glass wall. I pick up my somewhat warm cup and focus my gaze on the black SUV that’s waiting by the restaurant’s front doors.
“So, where have you been these…” he looks at his watch, “twenty-five minutes?”
“I was just making sure that Detective you saw yesterday wouldn’t find me after I told him all I had to say.”
“Why did you have to deliver these two to him personally, anyway? You could’ve just given him the papers and Dwight’s location.”
I sigh, shaking my head with a disapproving look. “You haven’t learned anything. Where’s the fun in that?”
He scoffs and turns back to the window. We watch Dwight come out as Wayne pulls up by the doors. A second after he gets in, Wayne opens the door, leaves the keys, and walks away as if nothing happened.
What happens next is partly obstructed by onlookers, as people stop to gawk at the armed men that surround the car and pull Dwight outside. I see another SUV and Doug with his assistant, digging through the glove compartment, then opening the trunk with a smirk and a shake of his head.
He let Wayne go, as I asked, so I take it he’s not too pissed at me. Really, that was just a decoy, since I had asked for a favor before the plan changed. What I really needed from him was to make Hunt sign a couple of papers once he’s arrested, but I found another way to make that happen, one that’s even better. Later, while they’ll be taking care of Hunt’s injuries, he’ll find a note in his pocket that he won’t be able to ignore.
As more gawkers gather on the sidewalk, the cops shove Dwight into a police car, Hunt into an ambulance, and clear out. I’m about to finish my coffee when the crowd parts, letting through no other than Doug and his assistant as they head straight to the coffee shop.
“I did not see that coming…” I mutter, spying the whiskey bottle in his hand. He just can’t wait to celebrate, can he? I must admit, I’m a little offended he’s that happy to get rid of me. “Side door,” I say, tossing a couple bills on the table as I get up.
“I’ll cover you.” Lincoln steps behind me, but I shove him forward.
; “He can’t see you here. Quickly, but don’t rush.” I keep close to him as we walk through the coffee shop at a brisk pace, sticking out, literally, among all the teenagers. It takes all in me not to turn my head when I hear the front door open, and I know, I feel Doug’s eyes fall on me as I make the last few steps to the door.
His mind is probably still busy with whatever he was thinking about when he opened the door. I know it’ll take him a couple moments to register what he’s seeing, then a few more to remember that I was just nearby. He will remember the black-and-white picture of me that he got from some security camera a year ago, then my stats – height, build, age, everything he had ever heard from witnesses. It’ll take another second to compare it to what he just saw, and then, he will feel a flash of excitement unlike any other. A realization that will propel him forward, everything he had ever been taught forgotten in a hurry to confirm his suspicions.
By then, it will be too late.
Chapter 33
Jenna
I stuff the last of my things into the bag and zip it with a sigh. Even though I’m happy with how everything has turned out, there’s a sadness in me that’s hard to explain. It’s the uncertainty of the future, the overwhelming change, and the forced goodbyes, all combined.
I turn to the tall mirror in the corner, checking how I look one more time. The absentmindedness that has been weighing me down since morning makes it really hard to feel ready. I feel like I’m stuck in between everything, and the only thing that grounds me is Cage.
“Ready?” his deep voice fills my ears. My eyes focus on his reflection as he stands in the doorway.
No. Maybe. “Yes,” I say, realizing that sometimes, you don’t have to feel like it. You just know it’s what you need, even though it’ll take time for your heart to catch up.
He crosses the room in three large steps and wraps his arms around me from behind, letting me relax into him. My body grows warmer as I feel him press to me, even though we’ve done nothing but stay in bed for the past two days as we waited for everything to settle. I close my eyes, feeling his breath on my skin, his stubble in my hair, his warm hands holding me tightly against him. Instantly, all I can think about is pulling his shirt off and sliding my hands and tongue over the broad planes of his chest, the hard ridges of his stomach, the…
