Eric shook his head. “No, I wasn’t followed.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes I’m sure. Now open the friggin’ door and let me in.” Jennings’s coastal Maryland accent was thicker than usual.
Townsend obeyed, and Jennings crossed the threshold into the younger man’s home. Inside was fairly plain. The bare walls were colored with a neutral beige. No photos or artwork adorned a single inch. The only thing that stood out was a simple clock on the wall with black numbers and hands. There were a few leather chairs and a leather couch that faced toward a high-definition television along with a simple glass coffee table. It was as if he’d just moved in and hadn’t unpacked all his things yet.
“So, what happened?” Jennings asked as Sam locked the door again and took another peek outside. Eric walked casually into the living room and helped himself to the seat in which Sam had previously been sitting.
The surprised host didn’t push the issue; relieved to see someone he believed to be an ally, albeit a scumbag. Townsend grabbed his glass walked casually over to a small wet bar near one of the opposite windows where he refilled his nearly empty rocks glass. “What have you heard?” he asked Jennings as he raised an empty glass, offering his unexpected guest a drink.
“Not much. Just that someone blew up your car today. They found a body in there. No ID on it yet. That will probably take a few weeks.”
“The cops have already been by here. I told them my car must have been stolen. When you’re connected, they will believe anything.”
Eric nodded. “So who was the corpse?”
Sam took a big sip and swallowed hard. “I don’t know. Some homeless guy. A goon came after me so I took him out. When I ran back to my car, something told me whoever was after me would have taken precautions.
Jennings laughed loudly. “Well, well, well. I never figured you for much of a field agent. That was good thinking.”
After another long sip, Townsend sat down across from Jennings and set the glass on the table.
“What do you want, Eric? Why are you here?”
Eric put his hands out as if proclaiming his innocence. “I’m here to check on you. When I heard what happened, I headed here immediately to see if you were OK.”
Sam was unconvinced, eyeing his guest suspiciously.
“What’s your next move?” he continued.
“I’m leaving the country tonight. Gonna lie low for a while until I can figure out what is going on.”
Jennings nodded. “Probably a good idea. You can never be too careful. Do you have any idea who came after you?”
Townsend sat pensive, searching through the database of his mind. “Could be anyone. The nature of my commission pisses off a lot of knowledgeable, well-connected people. Some top-level personnel have lost everything because of me. And that’s a pretty long list.”
“Anyone recently?”
He shook his head. “Not that I can think of.”
“Who was the last person you spoke with today or this week about anything?”
Sam’s reluctance was obvious as he paused before answering. “I spoke with Emily Starks. Saw her this morning.”
Eric seemed surprised at this new revelation. “Axis? Why?”
“We are doing an audit of their agency in the coming months, and I just wanted to extend the courtesy to her for her help in the past. I simply made her aware that we were going to need to see some documents and reports. Nothing major.”
“Ahh.”
Jennings seemed to accept the lie.
Silence pervaded the room for a minute. A timer went off in the kitchen, startling both men.
“I put a pizza in the oven earlier. You hungry?”
Jennings shook his head. “No thanks.”
Sam stood up and disappeared through a doorway that led into the kitchen. The sounds of the oven opening and other items rattling echoed into the empty living room.
Townsend hurriedly slid the pizza onto a pan on the counter and closed the oven. As he turned around to leave the kitchen, his face turned ashen as he stared down the barrel of a sound-suppressed Glock. Eric Jennings stood in the doorway with a stern look on his face.
“What are you doing?” Townsend asked, frozen in place.
“Isn’t it obvious, Sam? You come to me and threaten me about my operations. You say that I’m up to something and that you want a piece of the pie.” He shook his head and took a step forward, extending the gun farther toward his target.
“What? That’s what this is all about?”
“You have no idea the people I work for, Sam. You think you’re so special with your little all-access pass the government gave you. The people I work for own the government! And they don’t like it when outsiders start snooping around.”
Fear flooded the younger man’s eyes. “Look, Eric. I didn’t talk to anyone. I didn’t tell anyone anything. You have to believe me.”
The older man shook his head. “You said you talked to Emily earlier.”
“About audits! Nothing else. She doesn’t know anything about your little operation! I swear!”
“OK,” Eric said. For a second, it seemed like he believed the story and lowered the gun temporarily.
Then he raised the weapon again suddenly. “But you are a loose end.”
“No. Please. I’ll do anything. Just please don’t shoot me.”
Jennings thought it funny how men with extensive power could be lowered to the same level of a beggar, pleading for any scrap of mercy they could get. Sam Townsend had become one of the most powerful men in the government. He’d been reduced to nothing more than sniveling rat willing to do anything for an extension of life. “You’re pathetic,” Eric remarked. “All that power, and here you are begging for your life. I’m doing the government a favor by killing you.”
The long barrel quickly puffed twice, sending two rounds into Townsend’s ribcage. He collapsed backward onto the floor as dark crimson began to bloom around the two blackish holes in his white shirt. Shock covered Sam’s face as he clutched his chest. A thin red line began to trickle out of the corner of his lips. Violent, gurgled coughs ensued as blood began to fill his lungs. “You,” he managed to get out between fits of coughing but couldn’t get out anything else.
Jennings took another step forward and without saying a word, lowered his gun and fired one more round into Townsend’s head. The man’s body stopped shaking as the blood pooled around it on the tiled floor. After pocketing the weapon, he took another look back at the lifeless body. Satisfied with his work, Eric stalked back to the front door and drew back a nearby curtain to give a quick check outside. No one was in sight. He retraced his steps, remembering exactly each place he’d stood, every item he touched. After rubbing down everything to make sure his prints were gone, he returned to the front door.
No one would even remember seeing him exit the townhouse. He headed down the steps and veered onto the sidewalk toward his car. Only one more stop to make before heading home for the night.
Emily had already slipped into some pajama pants and a T-shirt and had slumped down in a comfortable spot on the couch to watch her favorite show. A glass of dark cabernet waited beside her on the end table nearby as she turned on the television with a flick of the remote. About ten minutes into the show, a knock came from the front door. Puzzled at who would be coming by at that hour, she set her drink back down and pulled on a robe over her T-shirt and pajama pants. She gave a quick look through the peephole. Eric Jennings stood, appearing frantic, outside her door. His face was panicked, and he kept looking around in both directions. Curious, she opened the door. “Eric? What’s the matter with you?”
“I need to get off the street. Can I come in?”
His words were rushed, unnerved. She’d never seen him that way.
“Sure, Eric. Come in. What happened to you?” She held the door wide open for him as he passed by. She noticed a cut on his arm that was bleeding through the white long-sleeve shirt he wore. His face ha
d a small, similar wound, and his hair was completely disheveled. His forehead was also dotted with beads of sweat.
“Close the door. Quickly, please,” he begged.
“OK, OK. Just relax.” A quick glance outside revealed nothing suspicious. She closed the door and stepped into the living room where he’d helped himself to a seat on the couch.
He sat nervously on the edge. “They came after me, Emily. They sent someone to my house to kill me.”
“Whoa! Slow down a second there. Who sent someone to kill you?”
“Golden Dawn. Those pieces of crap sent someone to kill me. I think they found out I was investigating them. Maybe I got too close. I don’t know for sure,” his words came out in a gush.
“Just take it easy. Sit down and tell me everything.” She gave another quick glance outside to make sure no one was there before returning to the sitting area.
Emily had known Jennings’s main experience with the Justice Department had been as an office guy. Unlike her, he wasn’t accustomed to being shot at or put into harrowing situations.
“I was at the house,” he began still panting a little, “cooking some supper when some guy came in. It’s all a blur, but I guess I turned the corner from my kitchen into the living room and bumped into him before he was ready to shoot. In his surprise, I was able to knock the gun away and fight him off.” He paused for a moment before finishing. “I shot him. I killed the son of a...” His voice trailed off in deep thought.
“Have you called the police?”
He shook his head, lost in his own mind.
“So the body is still there at your house?”
A slow nod gave confirmation.
“Eric. I need you to focus,” she tried to regain his attention. “You said something about Golden Dawn. How do you know it was them that sent this guy?”
“I’ve been investigating them for some time. I’ve always known they were working with someone on the inside, but I was never certain who. Now I think I know.”
She waited for the answer.
“Sam Townsend.”
The words hit her like a lead weight, but her expression never changed.
“You don’t seemed surprised,” he said.
She decided that Eric didn’t need to know that she had met with Sam earlier that day. “I am, and I’m not,” she said flatly. “I always had my suspicions about him. He gained so much authority so quickly. And I am always wary of those internal affairs types. You never know whose best interest they have in mind.” Her response seemed to settle Jennings down momentarily.
He nodded. “I know. I’m just shaken up from the whole thing.”
She relaxed a little too. “It’s going to be fine. You’re safe here.”
“Thanks, Emily. I really appreciate it.” He forced a slight smile.
“Would you like something to drink? Seems like you’re a scotch guy, right?”
“That would be great, Emily. My nerves are shot.” He seemed grateful.
She stood up and headed into the kitchen. Quietly, he rose from his chair and followed her. His movements made no sound with the background noise of the television peppering the silence.
In the kitchen, she pulled a rocks glass from the cupboard and filled it with ice from the freezer side of a stainless steel unit. The ice clinked in the glass as she set it down on the counter. The golden liquid caused the cubes to crackle as it poured over them. She stopped when the glass was half-full and swirled it around for a second.
Jennings stood at the edge of the kitchen, watching her closely. Slowly, he reached his hand into his jacket, feeling for something within. He watched as she finished making his drink. Just as she turned to head back to the living room, he pulled his hand out of his coat.
Chapter 49
Nevada
On the outside, the Prophet seemed as stoic as always. “What do you mean they’ve left the country?” he said calmly.
“Wyatt and a few others went to Ecuador. They just landed in the city of Cuenca about an hour ago.” The voice on the phone was quick and concise.
“Do we know why they are there?
“Yes, sir. We believe they may have found information regarding an old priest who once lived there. Apparently, he had a fairly significant stash of ancient relics.”
Realization slightly changed the old man’s demeanor. “They must be looking for the missing artifacts from Carlos Crespi’s vault. But why?”
A silent moment passed before the voice on the other end answered. “We aren’t sure why, sir. But we think they are after some kind of map and that there is a connection between the priest’s collection and what we are after.”
Lindsey’s eyes grew wide. Of course! All the signs were there. How could he have missed it before? The old priest’s cache of ancient pieces represented a wide number of cultures from the other side of the globe. They had no business in the Western Hemisphere. He silently cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner.
“Is your team in place?” he resumed the conversation quickly.
“They will be within the hour. We know where they are staying and where they are headed.”
“Really?” He was pleasantly surprised.
“Yes, sir. We believe they are going to inspect one of the cathedrals in the city.”
“Do you know what they are looking for, other than the priest’s treasure?”
“Not yet. But we will.”
“Watch them closely. When they find whatever it is they are looking for, take Schultz alive. We may need him to put the final pieces in place. Execute the others.”
His voice was cold as he gave the order. The sentence came out as easily as if he’d told a dog to roll over. He didn’t wait for a reply from the other line and simply ended the call. A curiosity lingered in his mind, though. What was Wyatt up to?
Chapter 50
Cuenca
The Hotel del Vista Magnifico rested halfway up a nearby mountain that overlooked the twinkling city. It was a popular tourist attraction because of the breathtaking views of the town, as well as the natural beauty of the area. Originally, in the late 1800s, the hotel had been a coffee factory. Ecuador’s coffee exports were unique in that they were the only country in the world to export all varieties of coffee. The plantation had suffered through a series of poor harvests and bad processing practices. The building sat vacant for a decade until a young Spanish entrepreneur purchased the old facility for an extremely small fee. He spent two years remodeling the facility and turned it into one of the grandest hotels in Cuenca, even in the country.
The high ceilings of the original building had been left intact for the main entrance and hallways. The walkways on the upper floor were surrounded by wrought iron railings and wall sconces. Sandstone tile covered the floors, giving a rustic yet glamorous feel. Enormous black Spanish-style chandeliers hung both in the entryway and down each hall. Originally, they probably held candles but were now illuminated with fake, candle-shaped electric bulbs. The black iron wall sconces still used real candles, though. Their little yellowish flames reminding patrons of years long gone. Just below the second floor balcony was a rectangular pool surrounded by more sandstone tile. The coping on the edge of the pool, though, was black marble, an absolutely exquisite accent to the lighter colored flooring.
An attendant in a vintage bellhop outfit had shown Sean, Adriana, and Tommy to their rooms, all on the front side of the hotel that overlooked the city. After dropping off their gear in their respective rooms, the group met up with Mauricio back in the main lobby.
Mauricio spoke like a man who was used to being in charge. “I’ve made arrangements to eat at here if that is all right with you. They have an excellent menu of local fare that I’m sure you will all enjoy. I know it is a little late for dinner, but I assume everyone is hungry from the journey. After that, we will go to the church. Good?”
Everyone nodded their approval, and Mauricio motioned for them to follow him.
He led the way down the hal
l to a place where the rooms ended and the corridor opened up into a larger space. There were wooden bistro tables dotting the area and a bar at one end. Huge glass windows opened up to a courtyard outside and yet another view of the city below. An older couple sat at the bar having a few drinks, but other than that the room was empty. A few tables had been pushed together to accommodate the large group. Four plates with a variety of appetizers of fresh chips and salsa, potato cakes, tamales, and a green salad were spread out before them.
“It looks awesome, Mauricio,” Tommy said as he sat down.
Their host pulled a chair out for Adriana, an act of chivalry she accepted with a slight smile. A waiter brought out two pitchers of fresh juice with large chunks of yellow, pink, and white fruit in it and poured a glass for each person.
“Dig in, everyone,” Mauricio said with a huge smile.
While the group ate, the waiter continued to bring out more dishes for them to share: Spanish rice, avocado halves filled with tomato, onions, and chopped tuna.
“How long have you been with the police in Atlanta, Will?” Mauricio asked.
Will finished swallowing his food before answering. “I’ve only been with the force in Atlanta for a short time.” After he spoke, he grabbed a glass of juice to chase the spicy salsa and salty potatoes.
Mauricio pressed on, “So what made you decide to become a police officer?”
Will coughed slightly and set down his drink. He looked extremely uncomfortable as if all eyes at the table were on him.
“Well, I don’t now. I guess it made the most sense to me.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin before continuing. “Bad pay. Long hours. Jackass bosses. Seemed like a fun choice at the time.”
Everyone at the table burst into laughter and continued eating. He took a deep breath, satisfied that everyone seemed to accept his answer.
The conversations continued in a random fashion for another twenty minutes or so until the waiter returned; light from the chandeliers shone off of his bald head. “Will your party have dessert tonight, señor?” he asked politely in a slight accent.
Maurcio shook his head. “No, gracias. We must be going. Just the bill, please.”
Sean Wyatt Compilation Box Set Page 48
