End Game (Jack Noble #12)

by L. T. Ryan

  Across the street a white Chevy Malibu waited at the stoplight. The driver was a thick silhouette behind the windshield. “Think that’s him?”

  “Pretty big dude,” Bear said. “You said he’s a big guy, right?”

  “Yeah, somewhere between you and me on the goon scale.”

  He started the Audi and put his hand on the gearshift. The light turned green and the Chevy pulled out and accelerated past us. There was no mistaking the driver. Big guy, red hair. It was Ginger, and he was alone.

  “Let’s move,” I said.

  Bear was a step ahead of me, having already shifted into reverse. He peeled back, slipped it into drive, and merged onto the road without stopping.

  Ginger had a four-car lead on us. We had to get closer. Without a spotter in his vehicle, I was less concerned about him noticing us. If he did, so be it. We’d have at least a five-minute window to corner him.

  “I’ve seen this guy up close,” I said. “We need to be ready for a fight.”

  “I’ve got two months of pent up grappling in me.” Bear had been a state champion wrestler. He had offers to Michigan, Ohio State, and others. He’d also studied Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu over the years. The best chance against him was with a two-by-four. Or a gun. If he got within arm’s reach, his target wasn’t getting away.

  Ginger’s driving became erratic. He swerved across all three lanes, only to swerve back and make a sharp right turn into a parking lot. We cruised past and pulled into the next entrance. I kept an eye on his car. He idled, taking up four spots.

  “Keep a sight line between us,” I said.

  “What do you think he’s doing? Meeting someone here?”

  “That’d be pretty damn good luck on our part.”

  “Yeah, scratch that, I guess.” Bear cracked his window. Cold air flooded the car and dissipated the smell of burned coffee and oil and vinegar and cheap lunch meats. “Much better. You could use a shower, you know.”

  “Screw you.”

  “Only after you’ve showered.” Bear grinned, amused at himself. His look of contentment gave way to concern as his brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed.

  “What is it?” I tried to follow his gaze but came up empty.

  “Who’s that approaching his car?”

  I scanned the lot. “Don’t see anyone.”

  “It’s a woman. Well, shaped like a woman, at least. Can’t see her face.”

  She came into view for a moment before ducking into the passenger seat. Only a sliver of her face had been visible between her hat and scarf. Not nearly enough to make an ID.

  “There was a camera in the trunk.” Bear popped the latch before I could say anything. He opened his door and stepped out.

  “Stay low,” I said. “Don’t let him spot you.”

  He draped one arm over the roof and leaned his head in. “They don’t know me.”

  “But they know me, maybe. Doesn’t take much to connect the dots between us, big man.”

  He nodded and slipped around the rear of the vehicle. The car bounced up and down a couple times as he put his weight on the trunk. A few seconds later, the lid slammed down and he dropped back into his seat.

  “Nice rig,” I said, admiring the Canon camera and lens.

  Bear put it together, then powered the unit on. He set it on the steering wheel to hold it steady. “There we go.”

  “They looking our way?” I said.

  He shook his head. “Just sitting there talking.”

  I leaned over to get a glimpse of the viewfinder, saw two figures partially hidden by the glare on the windshield. “Can you get in any closer on the woman?”

  He shifted the camera slightly and adjusted the lens. “Yeah, but it doesn’t do no good. Take a look.”

  I leaned in a bit more. She had removed her hat, but the grainy image made it impossible to make out a single detail. “Has to be someone he doesn’t want his crew to see him with, right?”

  Bear shrugged. “Could be his wife, bringing him a casserole.”

  “Always with the food.”

  He patted his stomach. “Ain’t had a decent meal today. Anyway, yeah, I’d say it’s someone he shouldn’t be meeting with. Think this Thanos guy sent someone to him?”

  “Depends,” I said. “On whether you believe Thanos was taken against his will, or he fled. If it’s the latter, then yeah, this could be the person they delivered Thanos to after ushering him from his house in the middle of the night. Now she’s reporting to Ginger.”

  “Fill me in again on that. Did you see him with Ginger that night?”

  I recalled hiding in the woods near the hedges, out of camera view, waiting there in the frigid cold. The SUV pulled up, a couple minutes later Ginger exited the house with Thanos and led him to the vehicle. Whoever had driven the SUV went into the house and never came out.

  “So what if that wasn’t one of Ginger’s guys with him that night?” Bear said.

  “Valid point,” I said. “I’ve only seen a few of them up close. It’s possible that Thanos utilized another group, or someone else’s security team, to move him. All I know is this somehow ties into the mob boss and politician that Lexi was working on when she blew her cover.”

  The passenger door on Ginger’s car opened and the woman emerged. Her hood was down, but her back was toward us. In a flash she covered her dark hair and then disappeared from view.

  I flung my door open, put one foot on the ground. “Don’t lose Ginger. I’m going after the woman.”

  30

  Bear cursed me as I walked away from the car. I’d left him with no choice. We couldn’t lose Ginger, whether he went back to the house following his meeting or moved onto another location. We also had to find out who he met with. She had to know something, was involved somehow.

  I kept my head down and used every truck, minivan and SUV to shield me from view. The woman weaved through rows of cars. Keys dangled from her hand, glinting in the sunlight. I had no plan other than to confront her. What happened if she made it inside her car and out of the parking spot before I reached her?

  As soon as I thought it, it happened. She stopped in front of an early ‘90s Ford F-150, white with blue trim wrapped around the lower third. The door slammed shut. The big V-8 roared to life. I started checking handles of cars parked nearby.

  The truck rolled forward out of its spot.

  I spotted a woman carrying a baby, ran up to her. She flinched back at the sight of me.

  “Ma’am, I’m a federal agent. I need your car.”

  “Go away!” she screamed.

  I couldn’t recall a single time that had that ever worked for me. I threw my hands up in the air and backed away from her. Last thing I needed was a good samaritan intervening because they thought I was assaulting the lady or trying to take her kid.

  The truck had reached the end of the aisle, fifty feet away from the exit.

  A police cruiser patrolled by the storefronts.

  The woman with the baby was jogging toward the cop.

  “Come on,” I said, my words forming into a heavy vapor that lingered in front of my face.

  Bear was gone, took off after Ginger. The woman in the truck was getting away. She was stopped eight cars deep in the left turn lane out of the parking lot. One, maybe two light cycles at the most, which left me with a minute and a half to find a vehicle.

  The woman with the baby was nearing the police cruiser, which had pulled up to the curb and stopped. The officer rolled down the window and leaned out, his bald head glistening in the sunlight.

  I moved a couple rows down in search of a vehicle. Modern cars were a pain for me to steal. I needed something old and easy to get into. A soft top Jeep would have been perfect. Problem was, there weren’t many choices in that department.

  And then I saw it.

  I cringed, but I knew it’d work.

  Someone was either crazy enough to drive their motorcycle in sub-freezing temperatures, or they’d abandoned their ride. I ran my hands throug
h the saddle bags in search of a spare key. The only thing I found was a change of clothes and some tools, which left me questioning whether I was right about it being abandoned.

  The light turned green. Six cars made it out. The woman was still there, along with seven cars behind her. No worries there with the bike if I could get it started.

  I straddled the seat. It wasn’t the most sophisticated motorcycle. Only took about ten seconds to hardwire the ignition and get it running. It sounded like a chainsaw cutting through concrete, but it managed to shift into gear, jerking away from the parking spot.

  Glancing back, I saw the cop standing in front of his cruiser, looking out over the parking lot. His gaze swept right past me. Shaking her head, the woman shrugged and then patted him on the shoulder. Guess they’d given up on finding me.

  Even at five miles per hour the wind felt like a block of ice hitting me square in the face. I wouldn’t be able to last long on the bike. Hopefully the woman didn’t have far to travel.

  I reached the line of cars waiting to exit. The light turned green. I swerved inside between the vehicles and curb and sped past them, drawing a few honks along the way. To hell with them. We made it about a hundred feet before another light turned red. I settled in a couple cars back from the F-150, reached into the saddle bag, and pulled out some clothing. I exhaled a sigh of relief which nearly froze in front of me. The bundle of clothes included something I could use.

  A heavy, woolly, purple scarf.

  I ditched the rest and wrapped the scarf around my face, leaving only my eyes exposed. As the light turned green and I pulled away, the wind no longer felt like a sledgehammer against my skin. My eyes watered, but that I could deal with.

  I kept to the driver’s side of the Honda Odyssey in front of me, swerving to the lane divider on occasion to check the position of the F-150. A few minutes passed, we hit a stop and go spot, then the road opened up and the little bike was humming along at fifty-five.

  The wind managed to find every chink in my armor. My hands and feet went numb. Even my face, clad in purple wool, was not immune to the effects. I couldn’t tell if I had lips or a nose anymore.

  After ten minutes, I caught a break. The F-150 signaled and moved over two lanes to the right. I followed suit and continued into the turn lane. There was no one in between us now. We pulled into a parking lot that contained a small grocery store next to a pizza place, and a Hardee’s on the corner. My stomach grumbled even though I’d had a sandwich not that long ago. I shrugged it off. There’d be time to eat later.

  She navigated through the restaurant’s parking lot and pulled up to the drive-thru menu. I backed the bike into a parking spot and waited while she ordered her food. There was a line of three cars leading up to the window. When the F-150 pulled forward, it was just outside the point of no return, the spot where it would be locked in with a brick wall on one side, and high concrete median stacked with hedges on the other.

  I hopped off the bike, leaving it idling, and dashed across the lot. I held a pistol in my right hand, pressed tight to my side to keep it out of view.

  The exhaust around the truck was heavy. I sucked in a deep breath of gas fumes and kept myself from coughing it back up. I leaned forward to stay out of view, reached for the passenger door handle. It was unlocked. I flung it open and jumped inside the cab.

  The woman froze at the sight of the pistol in her face. Then her gaze traveled upward and met mine.

  “Jack?”

  31

  I sat there stunned, unable to form the simplest word. The last two days raced past in my mind’s eye. Had everything been a lie? Was I set up from the start? If so, by the Old Man, or was it after that point?

  “Jack, how did you find me?”

  I had the pistol pointed at her face and she didn’t blink.

  “What the hell, Lexi?” I slammed the passenger door shut. “You wanna tell me what the hell is going on here, because right about now, I couldn’t be more confused.”

  She shifted the truck into reverse and backed out of the drive-thru line. A car swung around the curve from the mic and honked at her.

  I tightened my grip on the pistol.

  “Relax, Jack,” she said. “I’m backing into a parking spot is all. Tell me, what did you see?”

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. I ignored it. “I saw you get into a car with that Ginger, the same damn guy from outside Thanos’s office. The guy I assume had something to do with Thanos’s disappearance. That’s what I saw.”

  She leaned away from me, one hand on the wheel, the other stretched out over the seat between us. She didn’t appear scared, rather she was bracing for what was to come. “I know how it looks, but—”

  “Oh, you do?” I lowered the pistol, shook my head. “Tell me, truthfully, did you try to contact me before you rushed back to Chicago?”

  She said nothing, held her gaze steady.

  “That’s what I thought. OK, then, did you know they were gonna show up at your dad’s place?”

  “I have no idea who that was.” She paused for several moments. “What happened there? Did you confront them?”

  I chewed on the inside of my cheek for a few seconds. “Don’t worry about that. I’m here now, right?”

  She nodded slowly. “Look, I know this seems bad, or that I didn’t trust you enough to let you know I was coming here. But, Jack, you gotta realize, I’ve got a lot riding on this. Thanos, he’s the key to—”

  “Clearing your name.”

  “Yes, and no.” She sighed. “It’s complicated.”

  Making her aware that I knew more would derail my purpose in the truck. “Back to this conversation you just had with Ginger.”

  “His name’s not Ginger. It’s Kozlov.”

  “Kozlov?” I rubbed the stubble on my chin. “Russian?”

  She nodded. “Mitya Kozlov is a former KGB agent who defected and now makes his home in Canada along the Wisconsin border where he can slip in and out of the US without detection. He’s a contractor, to put it simply. He was hired by a certain individual to keep dibs on Thanos. After my snafu, it became apparent that Thanos required more than someone watching from afar, and Kozlov was tasked with putting together a security team.”

  “So this whole time, you’ve been working with Kozlov?”

  “Make no mistake about it, Jack. He and I are not on the same team. Nowhere close to it. If I were still working in an official capacity, that meeting back there would have never taken place. But through my time in the DCO, I got to know him and had him as an open channel.”

  “He works for the mob boss.”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Who, then?”

  “You don’t need to involve yourself in this.” She looked out the windshield and paused.

  I followed her gaze, saw a young, round woman trudging through the wind toward us. Lexi rolled her window down.

  “You still want your order?” the girl asked.

  Lexi pulled out a wad of cash and handed her a twenty. She rolled the window up, stared down at her lap. “There’s enough for both of us.”

  “Because, really, that’s my biggest concern right now.” I searched for words that hid themselves well in the recesses of my mind. It wasn’t that betrayal was a foreign concept to me, I just couldn’t figure out Lexi’s angle here. “So what the hell did Kozlov tell you? Where’s he hiding Thanos?”

  She gripped the wheel with both hands, took a deep breath, looked at me. “He doesn’t have him, and he doesn’t have a clue where he went. A few nights ago, his men left with Thanos from Thanos’s house and never made it to their rendezvous point.”

  He hadn’t told her that he was driving the car Thanos was in. “Why were they taking him? And where?”

  “The where I’m unsure of.” She licked her lips and took another breath. “The why was because they had very credible intelligence that someone outside their sphere of influence was about to make an attempt on Thanos’s life.” She leveled her gaze at m
e, drew her lips thin.

  I sat still, said nothing, peered at her, waiting to see where she was taking this.

  She hiked an eyebrow. “Would you know anything about that?”

  I shrugged and remained quiet.

  “I don’t know a whole lot about the SIS. Hell, no one does, at least no one who’ll talk to me. Is this the kind of thing they handle? Assassinations of US citizens?”

  How much of what she had told me was truth, and how much was a fabrication? She had every reason to lie to me now, especially if she didn’t trust me. Which, face it, neither of us had any reason to trust the other. I walked a fine line here. She believed I had been operating under the SIS shield from the beginning and knew nothing of my relationship with the Old Man. Even if I filled her in, I had no idea why Feng wanted Thanos dead. I figured Thanos had screwed him over or interfered in his business somehow. I saw it differently now. There were too many competing interests.

  “Jack?” She turned toward me, reached out with one hand. “This is off the record, you know. Just tell me, what were you here for?”

  “You know I can’t do that. Too much at stake for both of us if I let you in. These men behind the SIS, you don’t want to get on their bad side, or any side for that matter. They have power like you wouldn’t believe. You know all those channels you have to go through to get something done in the Bureau? That doesn’t exist in the SIS. If I need something, I make a phone call. Half the time I’m given instant approval. The other half, he makes a single call and it’s done.”

  “That’s the reason, then, isn’t it? You were there to kill Thanos.”

  “You can draw whatever conclusion you like, Lexi. Just don’t go bragging about it to the wrong people. You’re already in a heap of trouble, and someone wants you dead. Remember that. Rattle too many doors and they’ll task the right person to complete the job.”

  “You mean you.”

  I shook my head. “I already showed you the pictures. Yeah, someone reached out to me. And I know all the details. I know what you did, the people you were involved with. But I still can’t figure out exactly what you’re trying to do here, why you care about saving this Thanos guy.”