Subtle Target: Six Assassins Book 2

by Heskett, Jim

  "Yes, only child. And my parents both passed more than five years ago. If you're asking if I have any people who'll miss me when I'm gone, there aren't any. You and Gabe — at least, I hope you'll miss me. That's about it." She feigned a pouty face, but Fagan didn't seem to notice.

  “Speaking of Gabe, I have updates for you.”

  “Good,” Ember said. “I wanted to check on him.”

  "You're in luck. He woke up about thirty minutes ago. He's a little groggy but no worse for wear."

  Ember felt a thousand pounds of guilt rise up from her shoulders. “Thank you. That’s good.”

  “They’re probably going to discharge him in a few hours. He wants to get right back to work, but I’m going to make him take it easy for a little while. You want to say hello?”

  “No, just tell him I’m thinking about him, and I’ll give him a call later.”

  A car pulled into the lot in front of the apartment complex, and Ember thought she recognized the face of the driver. She leaned forward over the steering wheel and blinked a few times to clear her eyes.

  “Gotta go, Fagan. Think I’ve got my guy here.”

  She ended the call and readied herself to leave the car. The man who had worn the Roland name tag yesterday at the dry cleaners emerged from the vehicle and stopped at the trunk. He looked left and right, then made a break for it with a bulky trash bag. He repeated this with three other trash bags from his trunk.

  Roland looked shifty-eyed as he scurried across the street and entered the building. Interesting.

  Ember jogged over to the laundry room entrance once he had left her sight, then she moved into the hallway. With the door cracked, she waited for him to appear. He entered a stairwell, and she mirrored him to stay on the opposite one. No reason to tail him closely. She knew exactly where he was going.

  She took the stairs to the third floor and paused with her head sticking out of the stairwell door. The guy lugged the garbage sack down the hall and entered 314, just as she had suspected.

  Holding one of her Nighthawk Enforcers in her hand, she padded down the hall. With each step, she reminded herself to keep it professional. She had to resist the urge to put a bullet in him as soon as she had the chance to retaliate for knocking her out yesterday.

  Ear up to the door, she listened to him moving around as she readied her lock-picking kit.

  As quietly as possible, she picked the lock to the door, then knocked. She put a thumb over the peephole and closed her eyes to listen for the sound of shuffling feet. Once they stopped, she shoved the door open as hard as she could.

  It smacked against the man on the other side, and she heard him yelp. She leaped around it and inside the room, keeping her arm raised and her pistol pointed in his direction.

  The guy was standing a few feet back, one hand up to his forehead, wincing in pain. He made no move to rush toward her.

  “Hands up,” Ember said as she pushed the door shut behind her.

  He lifted his free hand, with the other still clamped over his wound. “Please don’t shoot me.”

  “Whether I shoot you or not depends entirely on what you do in the next few seconds. Do you understand?”

  “I do. I won’t cause any trouble. Can you point that thing at the floor, please?”

  “Nah, I don’t think I will, actually. But I like that we're making progress already.”

  “Just don’t shoot me.”

  “I already said I wouldn’t, unless you make me. Take a step back and raise both your hands, please.”

  The man obliged, and Ember felt a buzzing in her pocket. While she kept her eye on the guy, she took her phone out of her pocket to see Zach Bennett calling her. Then, her eyes drifted down to the garbage bags, sitting open on the floor. Inside each was a series of smaller plastic bags, filled with bloody dismembered body parts.

  Chapter Seventeen

  ZACH

  Zach dialed Ember’s number as he paced outside the Old Town Library. He adjusted his baseball cap several times. For some reason, it wouldn’t sit right on his head.

  He was nervous, but he didn't know why. Their date last week had gone well. They had been texting daily since then. But they hadn't spoken on the phone yet. This was new territory. When he heard her voice, he would get his report card on the first date and face up to his performance. A good enough grade would earn him date number two. A lackluster one would earn him a deflection, a work-is-crazy-this-week excuse.

  It stopped ringing, and he stood up straight and swallowed hard. "Hey."

  “Hey yourself,” she said, sounding a little out of breath.

  "Sorry, it's kinda early."

  “No problem, I’m up. How are you?”

  Zach watched a mom struggle to wrangle two young children out of a car in the library parking lot. “Good. You doing okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m glad you called, but I’m a little busy right now. Can we trade fake names for sushi rolls later?”

  He felt slighted but pushed it aside. He knew she was busy. That’s all this is, he told himself. Nothing more. She’s just busy, not pushing you aside. Maybe. “I’ve got a full day, but I just want to ask you something. I’ll be quick. Promise.”

  She sighed, but said, “Sure. Go ahead.”

  “I’ll get right to it. I had a good time at the restaurant last week. It seemed like you also had a good time. I wanted to know if you were up for date number two?”

  She paused, and his heart sank. It went on for at least three seconds, and he could feel himself slipping. Something told him just to hang up and pretend all this never happened. To drop his phone in the nearby trash can and join the Peace Corp and move to Uganda.

  “Yeah,” she finally said. “I can do lunch tomorrow. Or, maybe a hike in Boulder, if you can spare the drive down?”

  Maybe he wouldn’t have to move to Uganda, after all. “Yes. Perfect. See? That took no time at all.”

  "I'll think of some good hikes and text you a couple of options. I gotta go."

  Before he could say goodbye, she ended the call, but he didn’t care. The second date had been approved. That had gone as well as could be expected.

  He slipped his phone into his backpack and walked with a bounce in his step into the library. Ember's consent was exactly the boost he needed since he had to do something uncertain now. Maybe even unpleasant.

  He wasn't even sure if a public library was the best place for it, but he didn't want to use the internet on his phone or at his apartment. With something like this, he didn't even trust a VPN.

  He pulled his cap low and headed for the bank of computers. Then, he paused when he realized a complication. The primary public computers were underneath the security camera. He had to keep his footprint as small as possible.

  Instead, he crossed over to the main desk and caught the attention of a young woman behind the counter. She was pretty, with curly blonde hair and a little pug nose that highlighted the full lips below it. She gave him a warm smile, but her eyebrows were knitted together as if she were surprised to see him.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Oh, hi,” she said, with her lips parted as if about to laugh.

  “I was wondering if you could tell me how many different computers there are in the library. Like, where the different areas all are.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him. “Zach, it’s me. Penny.”

  He blanked. He could tell this girl recognized him, and he was supposed to recognize her, but he couldn’t place her at all. “I, uh, what’s up, Penny?”

  “You don’t remember me.”

  "Were we project partners in a class or something like that?"

  Now, she started to look annoyed. “Unlock your phone and give it to me.”

  He did as he was told, and she swiped on it for a few seconds, then turned it around to show it to him. There was a contact named Penny CallMeTomorrow. Below that was her number, then, below that, a typed note that read, the prettiest girl at the party.

  “Not ringing an
y bells?” she asked.

  He almost remembered. A vague hint of him being at a large party at some rich guy’s house then handing his phone to a pretty blonde girl almost appeared in his head. But, he wasn’t sure if this stranger had implanted that in there five seconds ago. He didn’t often blackout drink, but it did happen sometimes.

  “Sorry.”

  “You really don’t remember me. You said you would call me the next day, but you didn’t.”

  “Sorry.”

  Her anger subsided, then it flatlined, and she leaned a little closer, sporting a wry grin. “So, you still have my number. You can still call me.”

  He made a split-second decision. “I’m sorry, Penny, you seem nice, and I’m sorry I forgot that we met, but I’m seeing someone.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s cool.” She sucked on her teeth and pulled back until she was standing up straight. “If you’re looking for computers with some privacy, try the ones in the non-fiction section.” She pointed back over her shoulder.

  Zach nodded his thanks and then shuffled away, feeling a little awkward about the whole thing.

  He found the area she'd mentioned, then sat at a computer and jiggled the mouse to wake it up. The computers were in wooden cubicles giving him a couple of feet of wall for privacy. He chose the one that put his back to the window, keeping the screen away from prying eyes. The idea that anyone outside the library might see his screen was unpleasant, but this was the best option. He could always check behind him.

  Zach opened a browser and started typing in the search bar. His first search was for the word “Draconis." The first few results all had to do with a constellation, also known as the dragon. There were a few other results about bands with variations on that name, and an independent short film with that name playing at an upcoming film festival.

  He had to click through to the second page of search results before he found a website. The sparse collection of pages described a global investment company, but nothing about their specific investments or subsidiaries. Zach didn’t know much about how all that financial stuff worked. They had no contact page, and the About the Company page didn’t list anything useful, only corporate buzzwords about innovation and market disruption. Not a single email or phone number to contact.

  Why would a company list no way to contact them?

  Next he typed in Draconis plus Firedrake, the name of the company Zach allegedly worked for. Firedrake returned a few articles also about dragons, and image search results about the home office in Sacramento. All of the images were external shots. Nothing inside the building. But, it did look a lot like the building Thomas Milligan had described to Zach on one of his repeated attempts to recruit him to work there.

  Zach took a notepad from his backpack and scribbled notes. He wrote down every combination of Draconis and Firedrake he could think of. The list ballooned to twenty-four different ideas. He intended to search every one until he could find out who the hell he worked for.

  And, why there was so much secrecy around all of it.

  * * *

  Ten minutes later, Zach was halfway through the list and hadn’t gotten anywhere useful. He scratched off another of his search phrases when a shadow darkened his monitor.

  Zach looked up to see a burly security guard in a gray uniform standing over him. He was tall, with scratchy stubble in the form of a three-day goatee.

  “Sir,” the guard said, a sneer on his face.

  Zach dropped his pen on the notebook and pivoted in his chair. “What?”

  “Library computers are not to be used to look at pornographic materials.”

  "Wait; what? Porn? What are you talking about?"

  The security guard leaned over and closed all of Zach’s open tabs. A girl in the next cubicle leaned back to gawk at him, and Zach felt his cheeks flush.

  “You’ve been warned,” the guard said.

  Zach lowered his voice. “I wasn’t looking at porn. Did you see any on my screen just now? No, you didn’t.”

  The guard didn’t have a gun or a nightstick, but he did have a substantial walkie talkie clipped to his belt. He placed one hand on it like a cop readying himself for a confrontation.

  “I already gave you a warning. I need you to come with me, sir.”

  Zach snatched his backpack and held it in front of his chest, still seated. “No. Absolutely not. I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  The guard shook his head as his frown deepened. “Look, you can either step away from the workstation, or I’ll have you removed. I’m not going to say it again.”

  Zach looked past the guard to see a police cruiser settle into a parking spot near the front of the library. The siren chirped once, and the blue and red lights on top flashed a few times.

  He stood. “Yeah, okay. I’m sorry for the trouble. I’ll see myself out.”

  Zach hurried past the guard and toward the back door of the first floor. The guard eyed him the whole way. On his way past the front desk, pretty Penny CallMeTomorrow frowned at him, her arms crossed over her chest.

  Chapter Eighteen

  EMBER

  Ember waved the gun at the man standing beside the bags of dismembered body parts. “Hands on your head, then sink down to your knees. If you move toward me, things are going to get ugly.”

  He did as he was told, then Ember circled around him. Approaching someone on their knees was not a guarantee of compliance. So, she kept the gun out of his reach, because that’s where he would strike first. Her eyes stayed on his hips and shoulders, waiting for any flinch of movement.

  But, he didn’t resist or give any hint he intended to attack her. She patted him down and checked his pockets. He had no gun, only a pocket knife. Even that weapon wasn’t much of a defense.

  Ember tossed the knife onto the couch behind her and then moved back around to the man’s front. She looked down at an open bag. “Is that the cook?”

  The man considered this for a few seconds, then he gave a slow nod of his head. “His name was Shane.”

  “The same Shane you told me yesterday you didn’t know and definitely didn’t work at the dry cleaners with you?”

  “Yeah, that’s him.”

  “Did you put him in that bag?”

  He nodded again.

  “Is your name really Roland?”

  “Yes.”

  Just like the name tag he’d been wearing at the dry cleaners. “Okay, Roland, my name is Ember, but you already knew that. Now that we’re getting acquainted with each other, the hard questions are going to start. Are you ready for that? Because there are lots of different ways this could go. Lots of ways. So far, you’ve been a good boy. That’s earning you points. It’s entirely possible you could walk out of this room with not a single scratch on you. But don’t think I won’t also shoot you, okay?”

  “Okay. I’ll be good.”

  “Why did you knock me out and steal my purse at the dry cleaners yesterday after we had such a lovely conversation at the front counter?”

  “I panicked. Didn’t know what to do. You mentioned Shane, but you weren’t supposed to know about him. So, I tried to run. I didn’t know you would be behind the store. You scared me.”

  Hearing his speech impediment again, Ember wondered if he might be a little slow. Maybe brain damage from birth or a head injury. Or, maybe that was a ruse to make her relax and assume him to be a simpleton. Ember didn’t know enough to rule out anything about this guy. Not yet.

  “You could have killed me. I could have bled out in the alley behind the dry cleaners, and no one would have found me for days. What do you think about that?”

  His lip quivered, but only for a second. “I’m sorry. I told you, I got scared.”

  “Is that why you went back to the house in Louisville and got Shane down from the rafters?”

  “Shane was my friend.”

  “You’re a shitty friend, then, Roland. Friends don’t kill each other and make it look like a suicide.”
<
br />   He pursed his lips and whistled air in and out of his nose. “Shane was sad. His girlfriend broke up with him.”

  “Yeah, I read about that. Quite a compelling note he left. Except, you know what’s weird? In it, he didn’t mention the fact that his last act before killing himself was to poison a bunch of people at a brunch ten miles away. Seems weird, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t know. Shane was sad for a long time.”

  She hunkered down on one knee, with the gun pointed, but she kept her finger off the trigger. “Is this your apartment, Roland?”

  Again, he hesitated, then he gave a single nod. Ember had a hard time reading him. His eyes were blank, and his face stayed neutral. He didn't look around for the answer when asked a question, only stared straight ahead.

  “There are decorative soaps in your bathroom. Where did you get them?”

  He shrugged. “At the store.”

  “Oh yeah? Which one?”

  “I don’t remember. Maybe I got them from the internet.”

  She pointed the gun at the desk against the wall. “In the bottom drawer over there, there are a bunch of notebooks and a whole lot of pills. Downers, from the look of them. Are those yours?”

  He nodded.

  “What are they? Vicodin, Valium, Percocet, Percodan, Xanax, Oxycontin?”

  “Yes.”

  “Which one?”

  “The last one. Oxy-cotton.”

  “And the notebooks, those are yours, too?”

  Roland nodded again.

  She knew for sure he was lying now because she couldn't believe his handwriting would look anything like the clean and loopy script in those books. But, he didn't have a "tell" when he was lying. He looked exactly the same as when asked about his name. She considered making him copy some of the text in his own handwriting, but it wouldn't be necessary. Plus, she didn't want to give him access to anything sharp, even a pen.