I called Davey and told him how to dress for the job. Sam was at the kitchen table when I ambled in. Coffee was on, bagels, lox and cream cheese were out. Sunlight filtered through the leaves of the tree in front of the house and bathed Sam in a dappled glow.
“So, tell me how this bodyguard stuff goes?” Sam asked between sips of coffee.
“Davey’ll be by with the car about one-thirty. That’s when it starts. It’ll end whenever we put her on a plane back to L.A. Probably late tomorrow, or the next morning.”
“Is there any way I can get in touch with you, or are you in deep cover or something?”
“Sarcasm doesn’t become you,” I snapped irritably. “Look, I don’t have much control over where we go, how long we stay or anything else. You can leave a message with my service. What I can do is try to call you when everyone’s asleep. I’ll probably pull midnight to four tonight. I can try to call then.”
Sam thought for a moment. “No, don’t. No news is good news and all that. Just put Mrs. Doe’s little girl back on her plane and come on back here.”
“Believe me, that’s all I want to do.”
I finished breakfast without enthusiasm and kept checking the clock. I was ready to go. My foot tapped away incesantly. Davey would be by with the car pretty soon. We’d pick Ballantine up at two and be at Dulles before three to scan the crowd, watch the traffic patterns when passengers arrived and departed, and plan secondary routes.
Coffee in hand, I went into my office and updated my report. I arranged my expense chits neatly and stapled them to the appropriate logs. I tried paying some bills but that didn’t work either.
I checked with my answering service and came up empty. Sam went back to work so I vacated my office. I picked up a book I’d just started, sat in the living room and tried to read. When that failed to distract me, I thought about going out for a quick run, then remembered that I couldn’t do that anymore.
So I stayed put and brooded. I went into the bedroom to dress for work. Jane Doe didn’t seem to dress too strangely so a casual conservative outfit would probably work. Invisibility is the bodyguard’s aesthetic.
Gray slacks, black belt, bullet proof vest, white shirt, no tie. Then I laced on my steel-tipped halfboots, invaluable for crowd control, put my radio’s earpiece on, clipped the microphone to my collar and hung the power-pack on my belt, next to a set of handcuffs. I set Davey’s out so we could make sure they worked. I slipped on my shoulder holster and checked my Browning Hi-Power. Fourteen rounds including the one in the chamber. Two extra clips hung from a strap under my arm. The Browning is the perfect weapon for a bodyguard: easily concealed, quick to reload, accurate and reliable. My Gerber fighting-knife was strapped to the outside of my left leg. I shook my pants leg down over it and looked down to see if the knife was invisible. Coming up, I saw Sam standing in the doorway. I couldn’t read her eyes and one hand hid her mouth. She turned away quickly and the doorway was empty. I thought about going after her but I had nothing to say. She’d seen the truth with her own two eyes. I slipped a navy blazer on over my holster, checked the fit and put on my glasses. They aren’t prescription lenses, just a little something extra to protect my eyes.
In my closet I dug out a duress alarm and an adjustable Kevlar vest for Jane Doe. The doorbell rang while I was setting everything out. Walking to the front door I saw a beige BMW sedan in the driveway. Sam had closed the door to my office. A quick check through the peephole confirmed that it was Davey and I let him in.
We sized each other up like a couple of guys on prom night, checking our look, making sure everything was just right.
“How’s the car?” I asked.
“A dream. It has everything you wanted. Oh yeah. Here’s the bill.” Davey handed me a folded-over piece of paper. I checked the price. He’d done well.
“Do you have your routes picked out?”
“Yeah and two backups. I’ll get the early edition Post and check for any construction changes first thing tomorrow.”
We walked back to my bedroom. I handed Davey his receiver and we checked the units out. That done, I gave him a picture of Jane Doe to look at.
“The target?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Nice. Any special instructions?”
“Not really. We’ll use the old codes. Yellow and Red. I’ll take front left when we’re on foot. If we go to Red remember it’s weapon one, man two.”
“Gotcha, boss.” Davey was smiling.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, I guess. Just thinking about old times. God, we did some wild jobs for Rocky. You remember that faggot prince and his Japanese houseboy? The little nip in the heir. Donna’d kill me if she heard me talking like this.”
“Puts an edge on things, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, I guess it does. But I’m in on this one for the money, Leo. Plain and simple. Having kids puts an edge on things too, man. Let me tell you.”
“I wouldn’t know, Davey.” I shrugged. “Let’s go pick up Ballantine.”
On the way out, I stopped and knocked on Sam’s door. When she didn’t open it, I said “Goodbye, I’ll call you,” to the wood and left. Pulling away from the house I saw her at a window. I had what I wanted and it felt lousy.
I called Ballantine from the car and asked him to meet us on the street.
Ballantine was pacing back and forth when we pulled up next to him. Sliding in, I introduced him to Davey.
“This is Davey Isaacs. He’s the driver for this operation.”
Ballantine’s eyes roved over the interior of the car trying to guess how much this had set him back. We drove out Constitution Avenue and caught I-66 into Rosslyn. Fifteen minutes later we exited on to the Dulles Access Road and drove through the gently rolling Virginia countryside. As the swooping roof line of Eero Saarinen’s masterpiece came into view I heard Ballantine coughing into his hand. I looked up into the rearview mirror and caught his eyes. He looked worried.
“Try to relax, Mr. Ballantine. These things rarely materialize. Davey and I have taken all the standard precautions.”
“That’s not it, Leo. Uh …” Ballantine looked away. I didn’t like what I was seeing. Davey flicked a glance at me.
“What’s the matter. Mr. Ballantine?” I turned around to face him.
“It’s about Jane.”
“Yes. What about Jane?”
“Uh. You see, there just wasn’t a right time. She was very bummed out about this court thing, and then she found out about Axel, and she just didn’t want to hear about anything. So I mean, hey, I’m just the manager …”
“What didn’t Jane want to hear about, Nicky?”
“Any of it. The threats. You. Any of it, I could tell.” Jesus Fucking Christ.
“Nicky. Jane doesn’t know about the threats or that you’ve hired us to protect her. Is that what you’re saying?” He nodded. I slapped my forehead, gritted my teeth and closed my eyes.
“What do you think she’s going to do, when we show up, you f …” I sputtered and got hold of myself.
I resisted reminding him that he could get us all killed. “Okay, Nicky, listen to me. We’ll deal with this later. Right now, and as long as we’re exposed like this, you will do exactly as I say or Davey and I are going to leave you at the airport all alone. Understand?”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Good.”
“Davey. Don’t go into the lot, just do laps around the place. When I know that she’s on the ground, I’ll signal you. What airline is she on?”
Nicky looked up. “Oh, ah, United.”
“Fine. Pull straight up to the United doorway. Nicky, when we get inside find out what gate she’s coming in at, then go over there and sit down right in front of it, and don’t move. I have things to do so I’ll be moving around. Don’t worry if you can’t see me, I’ll be there. But you don’t move. When Jane comes out through the gate you get right next to her and tell her there’s been a threat against her l
ife and who I am. I’ll steer her through the airport. You follow right behind us. Once we’re outside, I’ll open the car door and let Jane in, you follow and close the door immediately. Don’t wait for me. Davey, if anything goes wrong, just leave. From there you won’t have to go through the toll booth. Just go straight to the Duncaster, got it?” Davey nodded.
Nicky tried to meet my eyes but couldn’t. “Look, I’m sorry, it’s just you don’t know her …”
“Save it, Nicky. It’s too late for that now.” I turned around rubbed my forehead and wished you could buy good luck.
CHAPTER 12
Davey dropped us off in front of the airport. Ballantine and I jumped out and slammed the doors. Davey locked them from the inside and pulled away. Dulles Airport poses unique problems for security. Because the mobile lounges bring everyone to and from the terminal, you have lots of people in one wide-open space. It’s a perfect shooting gallery for someone with an automatic weapon. It’s also the easiest airport to get out of. Less than two hundred feet of exposure from boarding gates to a car. Inside, I looked up at the United arrival board: Flight 745 out of LAX was on time, due in at three-fifty, gate eleven. I looked around and saw gate eleven to my right.
“Follow me,” I snapped at Ballantine. He did.
At gate eleven I motioned him to sit down. “When you see her do exactly as I told you. Go right up to her as soon as you see her. Don’t waste time. Until then, don’t look for me or at me. I’ll be here.” Walking away, I hoped Ballantine stewed plenty waiting for this flight.
Away from Ballantine I flipped on my microphone and whispered into it, “Come in, Davey, this is Leo.”
“Davey here. What’s her ETA?”
“Three-fifty, gate 11, United 745. I’ll let you know if any of that changes. Out.”
“Hang loose, Leo. Out.”
I did a slow lap around the snack bars and shops, looking to see if anyone was loitering or watching gate eleven. Three laps didn’t turn up any likelies. I sat in the back row of the seats and watched people arriving to meet the passengers of Flight 745. None of the Trumbull family was in attendance. Getting up, I casually walked through our exit path. Behind the seated visitors on both sides, there was a stand-up snack bar to the left, and a bookshop to the right. We would stay right. A wall of books blocked the line of fire of anyone but a person at the cash register. Then, we would pass the staircase down to the luggage area, go between the ticket counters and then out to the car.
I stood around looking for someone, anyone who didn’t fit. The easiest assailants to spot are the real misfits, the ones who can’t even pretend to pass for normal. They forget to zip up their flies, bathe only once a month and talk to themselves. The hardest to identify are the paranoids. They think everyone’s watching them anyway so when they do intend mischief they bring a great deal of cunning to the job. I glanced at my watch. It was three-thirty. A mobile lounge was pulling up to gate twelve to unload its passengers. I wanted to see what the traffic pattern would look like and how long we’d be in a crowd. The lounge was visible as it docked. People stood up and formed a semicircle around the door just beyond the metal detectors. The first people through the door stopped for a split second searching the crowd, then found their people or moved on ahead in a straight line. That would be the period of greatest vulnerability. People moved forward to greet the passengers. There was a lot of kissing, hugging, handshaking. The people who weren’t there to meet someone on this flight had looked up only for a second and now were back to talking, eating, reading. All of them had stayed seated. Everyone standing stayed focused on the door until they had met whomever they were waiting for. I assembled my cues and decided on an exit path.
Feeling better, I sat down. As I did, a tall, very thin young man walked by. He had the out-of-kilter look I’d been searching for. He was also nervously fingering a large crucifix. I watched him take a seat off to the right of gate eleven. Right along the exit route I’d planned out. Wonderful. I checked my watch: 3:50. The loading-gate light flashed on, indicating that the plane was on the ground. The mobile lounge would be pulling up in about ten minutes.
I flipped on my microphone.
“Bring it up, Davey. She’s on the ground.”
“On my way, Leo. Out.”
I walked down and sat next to Ballantine. He looked up at me and gave me a stupid, shit-eating grin. “No hard feelings?” he said hopefully.
“No feelings at all, Mr. Ballantine.” I stared straight ahead until I saw the lounge approach the terminal.
“Listen carefully to me, Nicky, and do exactly what I tell you. As soon as you see that mobile lounge pull up, you stand up, walk directly over to the gate, stand right up next to the metal detector on the right side and wait there. Do not call Jane Doe by name when you see her. Pull her off to the right. Do it immediately. I will be in front of you two. Explain the situation and start moving. Push her if you have to. If you don’t I’ll drag her out of here. After that do it just like we said in the car. Got it?”
“Yeah, sure. Listen, Haggerty. I’m real glad you’re here. I feel much better about this. And I’m sorry I made it so hard. You just don’t know what she can be like.”
“Spare me. I don’t want to find out what she’s like. I just want her alive for that flight back to L.A. tomorrow.”
I circled away from Ballantine, swept the group one last time and played eyeball-tag with the skinny dude. I didn’t want him to know I’d made him, so I avoided direct eye contact, and looked through and past him. He was mumbling to himself, talking so quickly I thought he’d memorized a speech. Or a prayer. I wished I knew what his heart’s desire was. In five minutes I might well find out. I unbuttoned my jacket.
I glanced out the window and saw the lounge pull into its dock. With its two extendable walkways sticking out like tusks it looked like a giant prehistoric boar. Ballantine stood up and moved into position. The semicircle of greeters was starting to form. Everyone looked a lot more relaxed now that the plane had landed. The skinny guy was on his feet. Wonderful. I sidled over next to Ballantine. He was watching the gate. I had my eyes on the crowd.
The doors slid back and people began to pour out. Everyone kept moving. The momentary pause to scan the crowd and then moving on. Nothing yet. I scanned the crowd relentlessly. Eyes and hands. The will and the way. Back and forth. Nothing. I could no longer feel Ballantine next to me. I couldn’t take my eyes off the crowd. Then he was back. I felt both of them behind me. Jane was talking.
“Jesus Christ, Nicky, what kind of bullshit is this? Is this one of your publicity stunts?”
“Jane, it’s not like that, this is for real. Somebody wants to kill you.”
I moved my head a quarter-turn and said softly “Ma’am, will you follow me please, now.”
“Who the hell is this guy, Nick?”
“Ma’am, move it now or I’ll carry you out of here.”
“Fuck you, Jack.” But she moved out. Skinny was moving toward us.
I felt her on my heels. We swept around the right end of the semicircle and headed between the rows of seats. The skinny guy was heading straight for us. We drew even and a little hip check left him in another guy’s lap and off my mind. No one stood up as we swept by. My eyes were bouncing all over the place. The bookstore had no one checking out. I turned slightly to cut down the angle from the snack bar. We moved on. The staircase was crowded but no one was looking at us. The doors were maybe twenty yards ahead. We came out between the ticket booths. My peripheral vision picked up nothing.
“Davey, we’re coming out. You there?”
“Right here. Sidewalks clear. Come straight on.”
“Count ten.”
The doors loomed larger and then we were through. Davey was idling right in front of us. The doorlocks popped up. With my right hand I reached out and opened Jane’s door, scanning everything behind us. A light-brown head dove into the car. Ballantine grabbed the door as he got in and closed it behind him. I had already be
en reaching behind me for the front door, pulled it open and slid backward onto the seat. Davey pulled away as the door slammed shut.
“Whew,” I exhaled loud and long. Nobody else said a thing. I wished I was driving so I could use the rearview mirror to see what our company was doing. What the hell. There’d be plenty of time to go over details with Jane Doe at the hotel. I stared out the windows and appreciated Davey’s smooth driving. He drove like a chess player. His eyes were constantly evaluating the road and the traffic. Anticipating potential traps, keeping as many options open as he could.
Thirty silent minutes later we were approaching the Duncaster. I turned in my seat to face Jane Doe.
“Ma’am, we’re about to arrive at your hotel. I understand that you’re upset about what’s going on and if you want to fire us that’s fine. I’d like you to let us escort you up to your room. It’s completely secure. Once we’re there Mr. Ballantine can answer your questions and I’ll be glad to offer you my opinion on the threats. If you want to let us go then, fine. Until then I’d like you to please follow my instructions to the letter.”
That said, I took a moment to look closely at Jane Doe. Her eyes bore into me as she made up her mind. I thought they were violet eyes but maybe the light was bad. Her wild mane was light brown, but the hair across her forehead and along her temples was a corn-silk blond.
“Okay. I’m all yours until we get inside. What do you want me to do?”
“Thank you.” I handed Dave his keycard. “Dave, drop us off at the front door, garage the car, then come straight up. This keycard opens all the doors.” Dave pocketed the card and said nothing.
“We aren’t going to sign in, and there should be no one there to meet us. Follow me in, stay close, and don’t respond to anyone who calls your name or approaches us. That’s my job. We’re going straight to the elevators. The elevator goes directly to the penthouse. When we get off I’ll be in front. Please stand directly behind me. I’ll want to go in the suite first and secure it. Please stand by the door until I let you know that it’s okay to enter. Any questions?”
The Things We Do for Love Page 5
