Exposed

by Suzanne Ferrell

  “You said I’d have private security.”

  “Do not worry.” Dimitri met his driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Karl will take care of you.”

  * * * * *

  Just after the zoo opened its gates to visitors, Geist, dressed in a lightweight jacket and baseball hat to help cover his face, strolled casually in with a crowd of tourists disembarking from a bus.

  Taking the park map like everyone else, he opened it and scanned it. The designers of the zoo had divided it up into sections based on the continents. According to the map, the polar bears were in the North American animal exhibit to his left. Instead of heading directly there, he headed straight ahead into what was designated the Asian animal area. He’d slowly make his way around, through the African exhibit into the North American section. Along the way, he’d scout for any sign of the lady photographer or the Marshal that had been with her since the first night. He’d also look for a place to hide until he made his move, and possible escape routes.

  Normally, on most commissions, he preferred to plan ahead and arrange the target’s death to look like an accident. The aftermath was cleaner for him, the target’s family, and his employer. That’s why he’d planted the bomb and torched the woman’s home. Going after her with the policeman’s car had been a spontaneous act. A foolish one. He’d missed, leaving her alive, and more importantly, both of them aware he was on their trail.

  After his mentor’s call last night, giving him the reprieve in the form of a second chance, he’d meditated on the best way to handle Sydney Peele’s death. So far, she’d proven a worthy adversary. Something totally unexpected. So, instead of a quick head shot from a silencer, he planned something much different.

  First thing would be to create chaos, and then separate her from the man who’d protected her from the hit-and-run. The Marshal would be the quick kill.

  Then he’s hit her with the hypodermic in his pocket. Enough tranquillizer to knock her out, but not kill her. He’d be able to carry her out of the park as someone who fainted in the crowd. Once in his van, he’d truss her up like a chicken, tie on the cinder blocks, and dump her in the nearby Scioto River.

  The corners of his mouth lifted. He’d make sure she woke up before going in alive, knowing she’d panic as she drowned, but be unable to stop it.

  * * * * *

  Ian pulled the rental car into the far eastern section of the zoo’s parking lot. He could’ve parked closer to the entrance, but he knew this spot was closest to the rear exit of the park and lead directly out to the road marking the park’s northern boundary. It was also near the fence that ran behind the polar bear exhibit.

  After he’d spent the day chumming up to Marv, the old veteran he’d met at the library, plied him with food, a small amount of whisky, and dropped him off to spend the night in a shelter, he’d driven up to the zoo. Using a good pair of wire cutters, he’d found a place hidden by trees and not too far from the parking lot to snip a hole in the fence for today. Once the exchange was made, he’d get the money from Marv and make a quick escape out the fence.

  The only obstacle in his path was the film he’d left with Sydney. Originally, he’d planned to meet with her and take the roll from her. However, he wasn’t risking getting caught in the hit man’s crosshairs.

  “Okay, Marv,” he said, turning to the man in the passenger seat. “Remember what the plan is?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he said bouncing back and forth. “I give the guy sitting on the bench the package. He gives me the backpack and I bring it over to you.”

  “Right. What else did we talk about?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Marv bounced in the seat again. “I don’t open it. Not even a crack of the zipper.”

  “And if you do exactly as I’ve told you…” He waited for the other man to remember the last bit of their discussions from yesterday and this morning.

  “You’ll give me a hundred bucks.”

  “That’s right.” He shut off the engine. “Now we’ve got about an hour before he gets here, so why don’t we go inside and grab some breakfast?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Marv said, reaching for the door handle. “Can’t work on an empty stomach.”

  Ian locked the car, then felt around on his jacket. Left pocket, new burner phone, and small sealed envelope, the package he’d give Marv right before he sent him to do the exchange. Right pocket, thirty-eight handgun. Ever since Sydney’s panicked call on Saturday, he’d been armed and ready for trouble.

  * * * * *

  The groundskeeper pushed the cart along the walkway, his odd limp slowing his progress. Periodically, he’d pause to let groups of visitors pass as he swept up the sidewalk. Doyle had always worked on the theory that hiding in plain sight was the best way to work an undercover assignment. No one paid attention to the janitors, delivery men, or the kids behind the fast-food restaurant counters.

  He’d arrived early to talk with the head security officer on duty about what was happening today, informing him that armed law enforcement would be in the area at the time of the exchange. Relief had flooded the younger man’s face. It was one thing to stop shoplifters or rowdy guests, another to deal with dangerous international killers.

  “Any sign of our bad guys?” Matt’s voice sounded in his ear. He was working the concession stand nearest the target area.

  “Not yet,” Doyle muttered low, so only the others on the earbuds they were wearing would hear. He’d fitted them all the night before, to be sure they were working and on the same frequency. Dave had a few for Chambers and the other undercover people this morning. “If Geist or Kormensky are here, they’re well hidden.”

  “Damn. Was hoping we could take one out before Castello and Sydney get here.”

  “They’re professionals,” Dave said. “They’ll wait to the last minute to strike. Keep your eyes and ears open.”

  “Geist will be the easiest to identify. Remember, he’s extremely tall and very pale blond,” Jake said, giving the description over the comms to the police. “Anyone see him, notify us of the area. Do not approach. We want to be sure to get him. He’s wanted in at least ten countries, and very dangerous.”

  * * * * *

  The black sedan pulled in beside the tourist busses parked to the right of the main entrance. Dimitri opened the glove compartment and pulled out his .45 and screwed the silencer onto the end. Unlike what the average person saw on television or the movies, the gun would still make sound, but the silencer would make it difficult to tell where the shot came from out in the open like this. The idea was to take out his three targets, create chaos, and leave without detection.

  As he worked, he watched the tourists departing the busses. The first had very elderly people, most likely from a seniors’ center out for a day trip. The second one unloading had a more diverse group in age, most wearing the local university’s baseball caps and jackets. He reached for the hat on the passenger seat and slipped it on. Today, he would blend in, however he usually detested the American love of hats with a bill on the front.

  Slipping the gun into the pocket of his leather jacket, he climbed out of his car and joined the end of the sporty tourist group. Already having committed the zoo’s attraction map to memory, he’d work his way to the area, maybe making a pass or two.

  He glanced at his watch.

  The congressman should be arriving in thirty minutes.

  * * * * *

  “You remember the plan?” Frank asked, as he pulled into the parking spot. He’d waited until the last possible minute to leave and still make the zoo before the ten o’clock deadline. The last thing he wanted to happen was for Geist or Sydney’s brother to recognize her, and move up the timeline.

  “We’re going in as a couple. I’m to stick to you no matter what,” Sydney bit out like a petulant teen.

  The slight poutiness in her voice actually reassured him. It meant she was angry and focused. Angry meant she wasn’t letting her fear rule her. Focused meant she wouldn’t take risks.
>
  “And?”

  “When I see Ian, I’m to point him out to you, but not approach him.”

  “Good. And?”

  “And if you spot Geist or Kormensky, I’m to take cover and do exactly what you tell me to do.” She reached for the door handle, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm. “What? More rules? I’m an adult, Frank. I’m capable of using good judgment.”

  “I know. Just one more thing,” he said, before leaning in to kiss her. Slow, soft, reassuring. He needed her to know he wasn’t going to let anything happen to her. That she’d come to mean something important to him. That she could depend on him.

  A few moments later, he pulled back. “It’s all going to be okay, Syd.”

  “I really hate that name.” She smiled, stroking her fingers over his face. “Let’s go catch us some bad guys.”

  Hand in hand, they walked through the entrance gate. Several families of small children were in front of them. Sydney leaned in close, pulling on his hand. He lowered his head to one side.

  “What if these kids are over at the polar bear exhibit in…” she paused to pull her phone out and look at the time, “ten minutes?”

  “Doyle has it handled,” Frank said, nodding at the park attendants handing out coupons and pointing to the tunnel under the road that lead to the far side of the zoo, as far from the polar bear exhibit as possible. “He talked with security and the management to arrange a special giveaway for kids, but it is from ten to eleven only today.”

  “Smart.”

  “Thank you,” he said, pulling her in the direction of the American animal exhibit and the blackmail exchange.

  “It was your idea?”

  “All of ours. The last thing we want is collateral damage if this thing goes south.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Congressman Morris Blanton nervously toyed with the zipper on the top of the backpack in the seat beside him. It contained five hundred thousand dollars, all in fifty-dollar bills.

  He’d lied when he told the blackmailer it would take him an extra day to get his hands on that kind of cash. A simple call to his Cayman Island bank had put the money in his hands with little effort. Over the five terms he’d served in Congress, he’d managed to squirrel away twenty times this amount of the taxpayers’ and campaign contributors’ money. Everything had been going as planned. He’d finish his stint in office, make a quiet departure from public life and his wife of thirty years, retiring to a villa in the islands that he’d purchased a few years back.

  Instead of waiting until then to enjoy the freedom money could give him, he’d let his dick do the talking. That was his first mistake.

  Annabeth Kelly wasn’t the first intern he’d spent time screwing over the past decade. However, she was the first to threaten to go public if he didn’t leave his wife for her. That’s when he’d panicked and contacted Dimitri.

  That was his second one. He’d assumed Kormensky would be grateful for all the efforts he’d made for him on bills throughout his term in office. Grateful enough to handle the little bitch’s disappearance without any consequences. Now he’d be indebted to the man forever.

  Then the blackmailer had contacted him, and he knew he was in a mess stickier than the La Brea Tar Pits.

  Now, if those images of him with Annabeth and then of her dead body in the woods hit the internet, he wouldn’t just be facing public humiliation, he could go to jail for murder.

  His pulse pounded in his ears.

  Breathe.

  Slow it down. Get it under control.

  He could do this. Go to the bench for the meeting. Set the bag on the ground and wait for the blackmailer to hand him the flash drive and leave. Once his extortionist had the bag of money, Dimitri would take him out.

  Then he could live his life with no one the wiser about what was to happen.

  A sound in front indicated the safety glass of the sedan had been lowered between the front seat and the back. Looking up, he found the driver staring at him in the rearview mirror.

  “We’re here, Congressman. Mr. Kormensky instructed me to let you enter the zoo first, then I’ll be about twenty feet behind you.”

  “Good,” he said. Swallowing, then licking his dry lips, he pulled the blue Michigan baseball hat on his head. It would stand out in this sea of Buckeye red like a beacon, which he was sure was his extortionist’s intention.

  “You have five minutes to make the drop, sir.”

  “Thank you.” He climbed out of the car, grabbed the bag, and walked briskly to the gate.

  He purchased his ticket and entered, declining the site map offered by one of the staff. The night before he’d memorized the path he’d need to take. The exhibit had an area where you could go inside to observe the bears in the water, but he wasn’t to go inside. Instead, he’d been instructed to sit on one of the benches nearby on the edge of the path.

  Veering to his right, he wove his way in the direction of the polar bear exhibit through the crowd—which was thinning out as he walked. He forced his body not to rush, no need to give the idea he was in a hurry or panicked. That would draw attention, and the last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself today.

  He rounded the corner and found a few tables with umbrellas near the concession stand. A couple sat at one table, at the other were two men, heavily in conversation. An open bench was farther up the path. Approaching it without looking anxious, he casually sat on one end, placing the bag of money on the ground next to his foot.

  Now he waited.

  * * * * *

  Marv patted his pocket again. The envelope his new friend—Ian, yeah, yeah, that was his name—had given him was in there.

  He watched the crowd from his position in the shade. Ian’s directions were specific. Stand at the concession stand and drink his lemonade. When a man with a Michigan hat sat on the bench, he was to approach him, hand over the envelope and grab the bag.

  Yeah, yeah, he could do this.

  He looked over at the bench again.

  There he was.

  The man in the Michigan hat.

  Marv threw his trash in the can. He always cleaned up after himself. He might be homeless, but he wasn’t a slob. Then he slowly made his way over to the bench.

  “Sir,” he said.

  The man looked up. “Go away.”

  “Sir,” he started again, removing the envelope from his pocket. “I’m supposed to give you this.”

  “You?” The man narrowed his eyes in skepticism, but took the envelope and felt around on it. He nodded. “There’s the bag.”

  Marv bent over, picked up the bag and straightened.

  A thunderclap sounded.

  Before Marv could take a step back toward his friend, pain slammed into him, knocking him on his butt. Then all feeling was gone. Night swallowed him up.

  * * * * *

  Screams filled the air. Bodies scattered, some heading for cover, others dashing into the melee.

  Congressman Blanton took two steps. A second, quieter sound rang out. He crumpled to the ground. More gunfire had the visitors in the park running in panic in all directions.

  “Get down!” Castello said, shoving Sydney behind a tree on the edge of the pathway, his gun already out of its holster. She clutched at the back of his jacket, trying to pull him in with her, only to realize he was becoming part of her protective barrier. She peeked around the other side of the tree to see what was happening, it was as if she was watching all the movement through the eye of her camera lens.

  “Out of the way!” Another shout. This from one of the undercover cops, running towards the two wounded men. He shoved a tourist out of the way to check on the congressman.

  The tourist moved back slightly.

  Something caught her attention.

  The line of the man’s jaw. The length of his neck. The hair brushing the back of his collar beneath his ball cap.

  Ian.

  He was hefting the bag onto his shoulder. Her selfish brother w
as going to get away with the money!

  “Frank,” she said, pulling on his jacket.

  “Did you see where the shots came from?” Frank was on his mic, talking to Dave and looking to the left, away from the park bench.

  She had to stop Ian. He started towards the trees behind the concession stand, where Matt was helping someone who’d been shot.

  If she didn’t do something, her brother would get away.

  Without another thought, she darted into the confusion.

  “Eee!” she shouted, running towards him.

  Her brother stopped for a moment, then shook his head and darted behind a fir tree.

  “Syd!” she heard from behind her.

  Just as she turned to see Frank running after her, a shadow loomed to her left. She looked up to see a giant man pale enough to be a ghost reaching for her.

  Geist.

  Frank and Sydney had just walked into the perimeter of the polar bear exhibit. Without moving his head like a bobble-head doll, he let his vision scan the area. Movement in front of him caught his eye. What looked like a homeless man approached a bench where Congressman Blanton, looking odd in a Michigan hat, sat.

  Not wanting to call attention to them, Frank pulled Sydney up near a shady tree as he watched the congressman and homeless man chat. The old guy handed Blanton a packet, waited then reached for the back pack.

  Suddenly shots rang out.

  Frank palmed his gun at the same time he shoved Sydney behind the maple tree, wedging his body in beside it to increase the barrier in front of her.

  “Get down,” he told her over his shoulder, his attention on the scene in front of him.

  Matt had jumped the concession bar and was helping a wounded undercover officer back into the sheltered area. To his right, Frank could see another cop, Chambers, running toward the congressman, shoving a tourist out of his way. Dave was also to the right, crouched behind a pole, looking to the left of the paved area. Frank scanned his vision that direction, looking for one of their suspects. More shots rang out.