The Minotaur's Hit List (Doc Minus Two Book I)

by Glenn Roug

into a ball.

  "So that's why you needed the local police and the FBI. You knew."

  "That's right."

  "And you couldn't warn me about this trap beforehand, you son of a bitch?"

  "Not warn you? I tied you up good and kidnapped you and then had you arrested by the local police; all that to keep you away from this trap. What more do you want? With you, if it's not served with a kiss and whipped cream on the side, it is nothing."

  We started on our way back. Doc Minus Two led with his map. Walking at a quicker pace this time, we reached the entrance in half the time it took us to get from the same entrance to the stone wall. Outside it was pitch dark. We went around the base of a nearby hill. Now the local cops took over and ordered us to lie down facing the entrance to the cave. They took out dark capes from a backpack and handed them to us. We wrapped these around us like blankets so we would not be seen in the dark. Then they put their infrared goggles on and ordered us to be quiet — me they warned twice as I was a novice in their eyes — and waited.

  It took another half hour before they spotted something in the dark. "Someone's approaching," Doc explained to me as he saw one of the cops waving an arm. The cops lay still for a few more moments, then, once the person they saw was inside the cave, they got up slowly. "One man," they whispered. "You stay here." They trod lightly towards the cave entrance while Doc Minus Two, Rodriquez and I stayed behind.

  It took awhile for the visitor to come out. "Maybe he's puzzled at not finding a body underneath the slab," I whispered.

  "Probably, but some of these pieces are so large it should not come as a surprise. He'd have to assume that you're under there somewhere, then go get some help to move the slabs. Either way we got him."

  I knew that he finally came out of the cave when the cops began to bark orders loudly. Then there was a metallic click as they slapped handcuffs on him. We got up and ran towards them, now with flashlights on. When we arrived we saw a man sitting on a rock, his hands behind his back and the two cops to his sides with their arms on his shoulders. The man seemed scared and confused and was trying to convince them that they were making a mistake. Next to him lay the handle-trigger device I almost pulled an hour earlier. Then the man turned his head towards us, and I could see his face caught in the cross beams of three flashlights.

  "Peterson?" I said. I wondered if I was seeing things but as I came nearer there was no mistaking it. "I thought you were dead."

  "You know this man?" one of the local cops asked.

  "I sure do. He's a dead FBI agent."

  Doc Minus Two cleared his throat. "Being a lousy doctor and all, I won't venture an opinion on whether he's alive or dead. But I can tell you this much: his name is not Peterson and he is not an FBI agent. The only FBI agent you ever met in your miserable life is Danny Rodriquez over here."

   

   

   

  XVII.

   

  I climbed into the cab of Doc's truck as the local cops and their suspect went with Rodriquez. The man I knew as Peterson denied he had ever seen me before and demanded they let him go. The cops ignored him. "Will you make the call now?" Doc Minus Two called out to Rodriquez before he took off.

  Rodriquez nodded affirmatively. "I don't get it," I said after they were gone and Doc started on his way to drop me off at my inn. "Are you saying that K and Terry and the driver of the car that picked me up — none of them were FBI agents, either? I took it for granted that I was dealing with the real McCoy."

  "Of course someone like you would take it for granted. You can't tell a testicle from an egg."

  "So who were they?"

  "They were them."

  "That's ridiculous. They had me where they wanted me. Why not kill me right then and there?"

  "They were killing you. I told you, you were meant to die here under that slab. Nowhere else. Everything they did, they did to get you to come here and pull that handle."

  "But why? I still don't get it. Why should I alone have to die here when a conventional murder was good enough for the other sixty six passengers? You said my dying here would have allowed them to reach their ultimate goal. What goal?"

  Doc Minus Two put out a calming hand. "Not yet. There is one more thing we need to do and then you'll know everything. Until then there are some lives at risk, and I don't mean your own this time."

  I rubbed my temples and gazed at the dark, winding road. "He tricked me, that Peterson. There was no break-in that night, was there? He faked a fight and pretended to be dying and then warned me not to trust his own bosses. Said that there was an informer inside the FBI. Why would he do that?"

  Doc Minus Two sounded almost excited for the first time since I've known him. He lit a half a cigar. "That — a true act of genius. Can't you see? Now that you think there was an informer, you won't go to the FBI or to any other law enforcement agency for that matter, because you think that the perps would find out where you are. With this little trick they ensured that you won't go to the authorities. The criminal convinced his victim not to trust the law. This is beautiful; true artwork. You must grant them that."

  "I'm glad they pleased you," I said. Even I could notice the envy that snuck into my tone of voice.

  "I always said they were not stupid. But they had their slip ups."

  "What slip ups?"

  "Not Yet."

  I was annoyed. "Ah, the convenient 'not yet'. Keep me in the dark some more why don't you?"

  "That's right. Builds character."

  "You had slip ups of your own. You're not as good as you think."

  He sounded bemused. "Such as?"

  "That passport you gave me, of the man in the asylum. Rodriguez knows about it, and that could get me in deep shit, and you too as the supplier."

  "He's the supplier."

  "What?"

  He put the cigar in his mouth and spoke without taking it out. "I lied about the asylum. The FBI provided the passport so you'd feel safe travelling here. Back then we didn't know enough and thought it would help the investigation if you went to the cave. Turns out we didn't really need you here after all."

  I turned to him and almost yelled. "Are you saying you already knew back then in Tampa that the people I met were not the FBI? You already knew they were them?"

  "I only suspected it."

  I waved both arms frantically. "And of course there was no way you could have volunteered any of that information? It would have interfered with your scare-your-customer-to-death professional code, wouldn't it?"

  "My job, if you still did not get it at this point, it to ..."

  "Keep me alive and crack the case, and the hell with any lasting psychological damage to my fragile soul. If I want a shrink I should hire one separately."

  "So you do get it. So why are we having this conversation?"

  I stopped arguing. He dropped me off at the inn — it felt as if I had not been there in weeks — but before taking off he had to stress me out a little more. "Be ready at eight. We have a flight to catch."

  "What do you mean? Why so soon?"

  "Got to be in Washington tomorrow."

  I was tired and had my fill of him for one night. "Why should I be inconvenienced because you have to be in Washington tomorrow? It's already four in the morning. I had a long day; I want to sleep late. I'll take another flight."

  "Not me, you have to be in Washington tomorrow," he said.

  "Why?"

  "Need you for a lineup."

  I sighed. "I don't suppose these are the FBI impostors I'm to identify?"

  He nodded. "They're being picked up as we speak."

  "Who was the head of that operation?"

  "The woman you knew as K."

  "Oh, shit." 

  "Yes indeed," he said almost with satisfaction. "All this time, you've been feeding information to the head of the snake even as the body was trying to strangle you. The next time I call you an idiot I expect an enthusiastic concurrence."

  I did
not reply. He took pity on me then, which was a testament to the state I must have been in. "Don't look so down. You're about to find out why they're out to get you. You would never believe it."

  I nodded in exhaustion. I almost did not care anymore. Just three hours of sleep ahead of me. I opened the door and stepped out of the truck. "May I get my passport back?" I said before I closed it.

  "The fake one? Rodriquez retrieved it. Get your own."

  "Isn't it dangerous to travel with my own ID?"

  "Not anymore."

  I went into my room and set the alarm clock and threw myself on the bed. I got up even more tired when the clock went off, and broke it in retaliation and packed my suitcase and checked out. Doc was waiting for me in the parking lot in a taxi. I had been hoping he would be late so I could get some sleep on the bench outside the lobby, but being late was not one of Doc Minus Two's weaknesses. "Where's the truck?" I asked.

  "Had to return it to my friend. Besides, it's much more fun when you pay for the ride."

  "For the flight, too, I imagine?"

  "How else? But don't worry, this is the last big ticket item I'll be charging you for. You'll get a final bill from me tomorrow."

  "I'm not worried, I'm ruined anyway."

  "That's the spirit."

  I'm not sure if he said anything else after that, because I fell asleep as soon as I hit the back seat of the taxicab. He woke me up at the airport, where I went to sleep at the gate, and then on the plane, and on the second plane. For the first time, we were a great team. I enjoyed the sleep and he the silence that came from my direction. We landed in Dulles International late in the evening. I thought we were going to a hotel, but Doc called someone on his phone even as we