“Blake is a risk. I’m running this operation, so it’s my call.” The colonel turned to face front. “Do you get me, soldier?”
“Yes, sir.”
The colonel ground his teeth. Grayson was an excellent tactician and capable lieutenant, but his respect for the chain of command left much to be desired. Gripping the steering wheel, Hawkes let the uncomfortable silence linger a little longer.
Grayson stirred. “Incoming, sir.”
The colonel let his hand drift down to his sidearm. The police were swarming around Blake’s apartment, just a couple blocks away. Hawkes didn’t want to leave a trail, but if anyone spotted them...
“It’s Campbell, sir.” Grayson said, peering at the side mirror. “He’s alone.”
Hawkes allowed himself to relax a little. He heard the rear door open as Campbell climbed inside, slinging his rucksack across the adjacent seat.
“Report.” Hawkes started the engine, hoping the heat from the V8 under the hood would help warm up the interior a little faster.
Campbell sucked in a deep breath. “Paramedics arrived a little late, sir.” He paused. “Visibility was poor, but I checked six body bags leaving the building. Infrared confirmed it.”
“Good.” Hawkes threw the Range Rover into gear and rolled out into the road. Checking the rear-view mirror, he saw Higgs follow a few seconds behind, his own vehicle’s headlamps cutting through the darkness. He addressed Campbell again. “Anyone spot you?”
“Negative, sir. Everyone was too busy dealing with the crowds.”
“Let’s hope it stays that way,” Hawkes said, steering the Range Rover onto the main road. “We’ve got a long drive ahead of us. Everyone buckle up.”
The colonel pressed his right foot to the floor and the bulky SUV surged forward, quickly getting lost in the busy New York City traffic. Drifting along in a sea of red taillights, Hawkes felt the excitement burning in his chest – in just a few hours’ time, the plan would be well underway, his retirement plans assured.
And there was no going back now.
Chapter 23
LEOPOLD STARED INTO the darkness and tried not to breathe. The stink of sweat and rubber flooded his nostrils and his chest burned, the lack of air making it hard to stay focused. He felt his prone body lifted up, followed shortly after by the sound of clattering metal. Nearby, voices shouting something inaudible, the sound of an engine revving. The sensation of sudden acceleration made his stomach lurch.
Bright light flooded his eyes. A face appeared, wearing a look of concern. A female paramedic, short blonde hair, pale skin. Dark brown eyes.
“Looks like we made it,” she said, a smile crossing her lips as she unzipped the body bag. “I’ve got to say, it makes a nice change to open one of these up and not find a corpse.”
Fresh air hit Leopold’s lungs and he sucked in a deep breath. The black rubber bag lay open around him, but the thermal blankets still kept all his body heat contained. Sweat dripped down his neck and back, soaking his shirt.
“How do you feel?”
Leopold glanced around. He found himself lying on a gurney in the back of an ambulance; the air filled with a curious mix of diesel oil and iodine smells. Ahead, visible through the windshield, the traffic parted and the vehicle rocked from side as it plowed forward.
“Where are we going?” Leopold said, sitting up. “Where are the others?”
“The coroner’s team got here just as we were wheeling you out,” said the paramedic, holding on to the side of the gurney as the vehicle rounded a tight corner. “We managed to squeeze most of you in the vans. Detective Jordan is following in another ambulance.”
“She’ll be glad you’re letting her bunk by herself.”
“I thought she might. I’m Cynthia, by the way.” She held out a hand.
“Leopold.” He shrugged off the blanket. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“We’ve been told to get you to Lenox Hill hospital. Apparently there’s a car waiting for you.”
“Good. How long?”
“It’s just a few minutes.” She paused. “Listen, nobody’s said what this is all about...”
“Best not to ask too many questions,” Leopold said, shaking his head. “It might get you into trouble.”
“Yeah, that lady cop said the same thing. Well, whatever it is, I hope it all works out.”
“Me too.” He smiled, although it felt forced. The ambulance hit a pothole and Leopold felt himself almost thrown from the gurney. “Jesus, doesn’t this thing have shocks?”
“You get used to it.”
“I hope I don’t have to.”
Cynthia smiled. “Me too. Not that I don’t appreciate the occasional distraction, but I get the feeling hanging around with you might be bad for my long term health.” She turned to face forward. “We’re nearly at the hospital. We should probably get you out of that blanket before you get dehydrated.”
Leopold pulled off the thermal wrap from around his waist and legs as the ambulance rounded another corner. He felt the cool air hit him, relief flooding his body. Tossing the blanket to the side, he held on to the gurney as they slowed suddenly, the hospital’s ambulance bay coming up ahead.
The driver sailed past the main entrance, turning another corner to an underground parking lot. Plunging into the darkness, the ambulance screeched to a dead stop just a few feet from the back wall. The automatic lights flickered on, flooding the basement. A few seconds later, the sound of squealing tires as two coroners’ vans and the second ambulance arrived, pulling up close by.
“Everybody out,” the driver said, pushing open the door and climbing out.
“Looks like this is your stop,” said Cynthia, helping Leopold off the gurney.
“Thanks for all your help.”
“Just try not to make a habit out of it.” She opened the rear doors. “Good luck. Whatever it is you’ve gotten mixed up in.”
Leopold nodded. “Thanks. I’ve got a feeling I’m going to need all the luck I can get.” He climbed out of the vehicle and stepped out onto the asphalt, feeling the air temperature drop considerably as Cynthia shut the doors behind him. The parking lot was damp, but at least it provided shelter from the wind.
The other vehicles killed their engines. The doors opened and Marshall emerged, looking a little disheveled. Mary followed close behind, wiping her brow with the back of a sleeve. Jerome and the other agents stepped out last, each making their way over to where Leopold stood.
“We’re looking for a black Suburban,” Marshall said. “One of the paramedics was kind enough to lend me a cell phone while we were getting bagged. The field office said they’d drop the vehicle here.”
Leopold smiled. “A black Suburban? Don’t you guys ever get bored of the same color?”
The special agent didn’t reply.
“Over there,” Jerome said, pointing to a large SUV parked at the other end of the lot. Marshall stalked off as the emergency vehicles started their engines and pulled away, rolling toward the main entrance and out of sight, leaving a faint cloud of exhaust fumes in their wake.
“You coming?” Leopold said to Mary.
“Right behind you,” she replied.
“Good luck,” Simmons said, arms folded against the cold. He turned to his partner. “This is it for us. We’ve got a lot of paperwork to get through back at the field office if we ever hope to keep this under wraps.”
Curtis nodded. “We’ll get the flight plans arranged and feed the media something about the blast.” He paused. “As of today, you’re a dead man. Congratulations.”
“See if you can lay some groundwork with Captain Oakes,” Mary said. “He’s not going to like hearing it from me.”
“My pleasure. But for now, I think we need to find a cab.”
The two agents nodded curtly and marched off. Ahead, Marshall waved them over, holding a set of car keys aloft.
“Looks like our ride is ready,” said Leopold, turning to Jerome. “I hope China has better weather
.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it.”
Chapter 24
“MR. BLAKE, SO nice to see you again.” The pilot arched his eyebrows as Leopold stepped out of the Suburban. Marshall turned off the engine and climbed out next, followed by Jerome and Mary. The jet stood ready, taking up most of the hangar space, sheltered from the howling winds outside.
“Captain Gray, a pleasure as always.” Leopold nodded his head. “You and I seem to be getting to know each other rather well.”
“It must be my lucky day,” said Gray. “Let’s get this over with shall we? Will it be the four of you this time?”
“Just these two,” Marshall said, gesturing toward Leopold and Jerome.
“Are you looking to collect air miles, gentlemen? I’d say you’re going to rack up quite a few if this carries on much longer.” Gray sighed. “Your field office was a little vague on the phone. Shanghai, is it?”
“Here are the details, along with the flight codes you’ll need.” Marshall handed the pilot a slip of paper. “You’ll stop to refuel on the west coast; that’ll get you across the Pacific in one piece. We’ll get your flight path cleared with the Chinese aviation authorities. They’ll be expecting you.”
Gray took the note. “I’ll make sure I give them your regards.” Turning to his passengers, “Are you ready, gentlemen?”
Leopold glanced at Jerome. “Go ahead. Just give me a minute.”
The bodyguard nodded. “I’ll be inside.”
“Five minutes. Otherwise we miss our slot.” Gray turned and marched off toward the Gulfstream. Jerome followed.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” said Marshall, heading back to the Suburban. He glanced at Leopold as he opened the driver door. “Don’t take too long, Blake.”
Leopold ignored him, moving in close to Mary as the special agent climbed inside the SUV and started the engine. Mary sighed and looked up him.
“I suppose this is ‘goodbye’ for a while,” she said. “I’ve got to say, you’re going to some extreme lengths to avoid talking to me.”
Leopold grinned. “I never was one for conversation.”
“We’ll just carry on where we left off when you get back.”
“If I get back.”
She rolled her eyes. “Always with the drama.”
“After what’s happened today, who knows.”
“Do you at least have a plan?”
“There are a few leads to chase down with the local payroll when we land. I have to assume nobody’s looking for me out there, but I’ll need to stay under the radar.”
Mary folded her arms, hugging her thin jacket. “You do what you need to do out there, and then get your ass back home. Marshall and I can handle things while you’re gone. After all, your father’s not going anywhere, is he? We’ll get to the bottom of this, eventually. And then you won’t have to be dead anymore.” She paused. “Well, at least for a while, anyway.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“That was me being generous.”
Leopold smiled. “Fair enough.” He turned to look at the jet behind him, spotting the outline of Jerome in one of the windows.
“You need to get going,” Mary said. “We’ve all got work to do.”
“Yeah, I know.” He looked into her eyes. “Listen, I meant it when I said I was sorry. I’ve had a lot on my mind. It’s – ”
Mary shook her head. “Let’s not open that can of worms, shall we?” She shivered a little. “Look, it’s cold and I’m still dealing with the fact I nearly got blown up earlier. How about we just drop it and concentrate on fixing this mess. Then we can all go back to our lives and you can carry on doing whatever you like.”
Leopold felt his stomach clench. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”
A pause. “It is.”
“Then I guess it’s so long for now.”
“Goodbye, Leopold.” Mary offered a weak smile and turned away, heading back to the SUV without looking back. Leopold bit the inside of his lip, a little too hard, and followed suit, making a beeline for the Gulfstream and, hopefully, a few hours’ restful sleep. The unease in his stomach worsened and his climbed the steps.
“Buckle up,” Jerome said, as Leopold stepped into the cabin. “We’ve got a long flight ahead of us, and I want to go over the plan while we’re in the air.”
“I guess a nap’s out of the question?”
Jerome glared back at him.
“I figured as much.” Leopold sighed and took a seat next to the bodyguard, fastening his safety belt.
Captain Gray poked his head through the curtain. “We’re all set. I’m taking us out now. Fight time is fourteen hours, with an hour or so to refuel along the way. I’d get comfortable, if I were you.” He disappeared back into the cockpit.
With a muffled rumble, the jet’s twin engines kicked in and the Gulfstream began to crawl toward the hangar doors. Leopold looked out the window as they hit the runway, the muddy glow of city lights burning the nighttime sky on the horizon. With one final glance, he pulled down the shutter and closed his eyes – offering a silent prayer to a deity he didn’t believe in for a miracle he knew would never come.
Chapter 25
“JESUS CHRIST, DO you know what kind of shit storm you’re stirring up here?” Director Ward clenched his cell phone in his fist, the chassis buckling slightly under his grip. His office stood empty, Carter and Burke long gone, and the first signs of the dawn light were filtering slowly through the gloom. Having spent all night poring through case files, Ward was in no mood for mincing words. “And why am I only finding out about this now?”
A slight pause on the line. “Sir, we had no choice.”
Ward gritted his teeth. “Bullshit, Marshall. There are protocols in place for a reason. Now you’re asking me to keep this to myself? I could go to prison. Hell, we could all go to prison for this.”
“Sir, we had no way of knowing whether we were being watched, so we took the necessary precautions. Assuming the gamble paid off, whoever set off that bomb thinks we’re dead. That gives us an advantage.”
“That’s only if nobody else gets wind of what you’re trying to pull.” He shook his head. “Jesus, so Blake’s alive?”
“Yes, sir. On his way out of the country.”
“Let me guess, you arranged that too?”
“I had to pull a few favors, sir. Nobody asked too many questions.”
“And where is he headed?”
Marshall didn’t reply straight away. “Better you stay in the dark on that one, sir.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Better you don’t know, sir. Like you said, there are protocols.”
Ward sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. After more than a month of dealing with a newborn son, he was used to sleepless nights, but the director knew staying sharp enough to make rational decisions required at least a few hours’ shuteye – a luxury he hadn’t enjoyed in more than thirty-six hours. He decided to give Marshall the benefit of the doubt.
“Fine,” Ward said, finally. “But you need to keep me in the loop. I suppose you and Detective Jordan have some kind of plan?”
“Yes, sir. If we can trace where the explosives entered the country, we might be able to track them. There’s no way anybody could ship something in like this without some kind of cover story. We just need to know where to look.” He coughed.
“You doing okay?” Ward felt his anger lessen; reminding himself what Marshall had just been through. “Any casualties?”
“No, sir. Blake got us into his safe room just before the bomb went off. I hate to say it, but he saved our lives. Just a little smoke inhalation, that’s all.”
“Anyone brief you on the collateral damage?” Ward recalled his conversation with the Mayor.
“We were out of there pretty fast, sir. The paramedics didn’t seem to know much, either. Was anyone else hurt?”
“Reports are still coming in. Minor injuries, mostly from the panic that ensue
d after the blast. People are pretty shook up, but mostly okay.”
“You think that was the intention? I mean, there could have been considerably more damage.”
“The explosion was a clean blast. No signs of biological payload and no shrapnel found at the scene.” Ward rubbed his chin absentmindedly. “So, yes – this could have been a lot worse. But perhaps that was the point.”
“You saying we can expect worse things to come?”
“This was a surgical strike, aimed at a very specific target. Or, in this case, targets. According to the explosives experts, the payload could easily have been much more destructive. We have to assume the worst.”
“How does Blake fit in with all this?”
Ward slumped in his chair. “Which one?”
“Either.”
“We still don’t know. Is there anything Leopold or Detective Jordan mentioned that might give us a lead?”
Marshall paused, apparently thinking it through. “I overheard a conversation between her and Blake just before the bomb went off. Something about an issue at his company. They seemed pretty cagey.”
“According to the grapevine, part of Blake Investments was sold off without Leopold’s knowledge. An inside job. Or, at least, that’s what the Financial Times is calling it.”
“What kind of work were they doing?”
Ward felt his pulse quicken. “Jesus Christ, that can’t be what’s going on here.”
“Sir?”
“The division that Blake lost control of,” Ward stood up, “was a research company specializing in biological and chemical research.”
“What kind of research?”
“Damned if I know. But with all this happening at once, it’s not much of a stretch to assume it’s connected.”
“Connected how?”
Ward headed for the door. “I’ll need you to touch base with the CDC, figure out if they’ve got anything on their radar about possible biological weapons attacks.”
Fallen: A Leopold Blake Thriller (A Private Investigator Series of Crime and Suspense Thrillers Book 5) Page 9
