by Brad Taylor
I looked at her, waiting on her to tell me this was crazy but needing her to continue, knowing I had no firm evidence that would penetrate her logical world. All I had was a feeling.
She smiled, saying, “That’s good enough for me.”
She put in a Bluetooth earpiece, flipped her cell phone over to our encrypted push-to-talk mode, and said, “Check, check.”
I said, “Koko, got you lima charlie,” then gave her a thumbs-up. I grinned when she scowled at her callsign, then watched her drive down the lane until she was behind the Hyundai. She glanced around, then rolled out, scooting underneath the back bumper. She spent about thirty seconds on the ground getting the Demon Seed and its antenna emplaced, then swiftly rolled back out, brushing off her shorts and climbing back into her car.
I saw her fiddle with a tablet, then heard, “It’s set. Geo-fence is active.”
The Demon Seed was a pretty simple tracker that used the digital LTE cell network to transmit locational data to her tablet with a plus or minus of ten meters. With a battery life of four days, we’d be able to know our target’s every move without having to wrap him up like a wet blanket.
I returned my view to the front of the hotel and said, “Roger that. Go ahead and stage. I’m going to take another lap, see if I can spot our little refugee.”
No sooner had the words come out of my mouth than I saw Lannister McBride exit the hotel, walking rapidly toward the garage like he was trying to squeeze back a bout of diarrhea, his face squinting, his bouquet of flowers long gone.
I said, “Koko, Koko, target inbound. My car’s a level above. Target’s going unsighted because I can’t have him make contact with me again. Go ahead and exit and let the beacon do its work.”
“Roger all. What’s the endstate here?”
“Find his bed down, then wring him out. The endstate is to locate and interrogate that girl.”
Chapter 8
Beth exited the Uber ride, not wanting to advance up the steps, but she knew she had no choice. Something had screwed up the biggest whale she’d ever had, and she didn’t know what that was. She knew whatever answer she gave to Slaven and the Enforcer wouldn’t be enough.
The whale, Lannister, had hung up the phone and demanded to know what nefarious thing she was doing in Charleston. She’d said she had no idea what he was talking about, and he’d asked about a girl she’d met. The one by the fountain.
She knew whom he was referring to, but didn’t let on. She’d told him she knew nothing about a girl, and he’d stormed out, saying he wasn’t going to be part of a criminal enterprise.
She’d watched him leave, then had sat in the hotel room for close to an hour, not wanting her easy night to be destroyed. She’d considered faking it and sleeping in the room, but she knew that, eventually, Slaven would ask for the money. Money she didn’t have. Finally, she’d taken the Uber back to Folly Beach, worried about what she would experience. In truth, she worried about the girl the man had mentioned. She knew where the girl was being held, because it was her own personal prison. She felt guilt in her soul about her inability to protect the little girl, knowing she would now experience the same thing Beth had.
She walked up the stairs, the light from the summer sun fading and giving the house a magical patina that was perfect for an Instagram post, but she didn’t feel the magic. She turned the knob and found it locked. She held her fist over the wood, not wanting to step into the wrath she knew was coming.
She rapped the door, once, twice, three times. And then stood with her head down.
Radovan opened the door, seeing her cowering, and gave no comfort. He said, “Why are you here so soon?”
She said, “I have to talk to Slaven.”
He smacked her cheek hard enough to knock her into the door frame and said, “Why?”
She held her arms over her head and said, “Slaven. Slaven.”
He huffed, disgusted. He grabbed her by her head and hoisted her into the foyer, spilling her onto the floor.
She cowered, and then heard Slaven’s voice. She looked up and saw him above her.
He said, “What did you do?”
“Nothing. I did nothing. I went to the bar like you asked. I went to the room like you asked. I was doing what you wanted, and the phone rang. He answered it, and it was the end of the date.”
“Why? Who was calling?”
“The girl’s father. He was calling. He wants her back.”
Two doors down the hall, inside a bathroom, Amena heard the words and stood up. She had no father. He had been killed. There was only one man who could claim that title, and she was ashamed she’d run from him.
Pike was looking for her. Hunting her, like he had in the past.
She sagged against the door, the relief flooding through her. She had seen what he would do for someone he loved, and she dared to believe he might love her.
She curled into a ball, pushing her ear against the door, listening.
She heard Beth get slapped again, and then heard her wail that she had the information on the john she had been with. The man had bragged to her in Norfolk about being some sort of bigwig in the U.S. Navy, and now she’d found out why he was here in Charleston. Trying to stave off more pain, Beth whimpered that she had something that could provide leverage.
The Enforcer smacked her again, shouting, “What good does that do us?”
Beth told them what she knew about the man’s occupation and Slaven said, “That does us a lot of good. I have some friends who would love to have information he can provide. This will be worth more than all of the work we do here. I promise.”
“How?”
“You remember those Russian guys we helped find a place to stay in the United States? The recruiters for Wagner that wanted us to join? They’re tied into the Russian government and they’ll pay for whatever this man can give, I promise.”
“How do we get it?”
“We have his information, and the fact that he paid for Beth. It’s enough, trust me. He works for the U.S. government. He won’t want that little story out. I’ve seen those Russians do the same thing. I’ll text him, telling him his life is over if he doesn’t produce. It might take a day or two of convincing, but he’ll eventually give in. I’ve seen it before, in Europe.”
“That’s a risky play. This guy is an unknown, and we might need more men to control it. I say fuck him and deal with the problem here. The guy chasing the little bitch in the bathroom.”
Amena cringed at being singled out, then heard, “Wait, wait. I agree with that, but this is worth serious money. We do need more men. What about Branko? He’s in Myrtle Beach, and he’s got a crew of four. You know him, right? Can you get him down here?”
“Yeah. I can get him. He can be here in an hour or two, but why?”
“Because we’re going to make a big payday. Make the call.”
Amena went back to the door, this time putting her eye to the old keyhole, seeing Radovan talking to Slaven, Beth on the floor between them on her knees, her head down.
Radovan slapped her face, and the one they called the doctor came forward holding a laptop, saying, “Wait, wait, don’t bruise her. She has another date.”
Radovan stood with his fists balled, Beth cowering in front of him. Slaven took the laptop and said, “What do you mean?”
The doctor said, “She’s got another date from the webpage. We aren’t at a total loss.”
Radovan sneered and said, “Screw that. We need to find out who the man was that called. The one who broke up the first date. The one who owns the girl. He’s a threat.”
Slaven said, “You’re right, of course. Call the men at Myrtle Beach. It’s another reason to get them here.”
Radovan nodded, considering, then walked away, his phone to his ear. Amena watched Slaven study the laptop, saying, “Someone else has asked for a date?”
The doctor said, “Yeah. I don’t know how, but she’s been requested.”
Slaven looked at the scree
n and said, “I thought she was booked with this other asshole? For the entire night? How did that happen?”
“I don’t know, but it works in our favor. The guy deleted his profile and she became available again. The new guy will get us at least half the money we lost with the whale.”
Slaven said, “He deleted his profile? That’s not good. We need to use it for leverage. Can you bring it back?”
“I get screenshots of all transactions and track their IP addresses, MAC addresses, everything. I have his. He’s done.”
Slaven nodded, then looked at the request. Radovan came back into the hallway and said, “They’re on the way. What’s up?”
“Nothing. It just looks like we’re going to make up for Beth’s fuckup tonight.”
Radovan took the computer, studied it, then said, “Doc, what’s the MAC address used to make the original date?”
Doc took the computer, dug around in the hard drive, then brought up the old account. Radovan looked at it, then said, “It’s the man who called. That’s who it is. He tracked your ‘whale’ down and now he’s hunting.”
Her eye pressed to the keyhole, Amena saw Slaven take the computer back, saying, “Oh, come on. That’s bullshit.”
Radovan said, “Look at the MAC addresses. They’re the same. This account was made on the same computer as the old account. He’s trying to find the girl, and he found the one connection to this bitch here.”
Slaven scrolled down the computer screen and saw what Radovan said was true. Without conviction, he said, “That still doesn’t prove it’s the guy that called.”
Radovan snarled, “It’s close enough to worry about.” He pointed at Beth, and she cowered. He slapped her into the wall and said, “Who is this guy?”
She said, “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.” And then, because she wanted to stop the pain, but hating herself all the same, she pointed at the bathroom and said, “But the girl does.”
Amena backed away from the keyhole and locked the door, waiting on the inevitable. She heard the footsteps coming down the hall, then the Enforcer outside of the door. He jerked the handle, cursed, and said, “Open this.”
She retreated inside the bathroom, pulling off the rod for the towel rack, the only weapon she had. She waited, hearing nothing. Nobody kicked in the door. Nobody said a word.
Then she heard Slaven, the one man who’d been kind to her. He said, “Open the door, please.”
She did nothing.
He waited a beat, and then said, “Open the door, or you’re going to cause someone you like to be harmed.”
She sidled to the keyhole and saw him holding Beth’s head in both hands. He squeezed her skull, causing Beth to let out a keening wail.
She shouted, “Stop it! If I open the door, you’re going to hurt me, too.”
Slaven said, “No, I’m not, but I will hurt Beth. It’s your choice.” She then saw him tie his hand into Beth’s hair and jerk, extracting a scream.
He said, “You are causing this. Only you can make it stop.”
Amena knew he was lying. Knew he was evil, and because of it, she understood that opening the door was a bad decision, but she couldn’t be responsible for the torture Slaven was inflicting.
But she also knew something these men did not. She had someone looking for her. Someone who could bring an inferno to save her. Unlike Beth’s parents, Jennifer and Pike weren’t impotent.
They were a wrecking machine.
The one unknown was whether they truly cared about her, but they were the closest people she had to family left on this earth. Deep in her heart, though, she was still unsure of their love, and knew she was placing everything in their hands. But she had no other choice.
She closed her eyes, sent a prayer out into the universe, and unlocked the door.
Chapter 9
Jennifer watched the Hyundai leave the garage and got her first eyes on the target. A balding man of about fifty with a full beard. She let him pass, checked that the tracker was transmitting, and called Pike.
“Target’s out of the nest and moving up East Bay, headed to the Ravenel Bridge.”
“Roger all. I’m a block over near the fountain. No joy on Amena.”
“You want me to engage?”
“Not yet. Keep eyes on the beacon. He’s got three choices here: Break off East Bay into the city, take the Ravenel to Mount Pleasant, or keep going north toward North Charleston.”
She said, “Or get on Interstate 26.”
“He can’t get to 26 from East Bay.”
“I know, but it’s a choice. All he has to do is cut over to Meeting Street.”
Pike said, “Good point. So four choices. Keep eyes on and commit when he does. The trigger will be the Ravenel Bridge. I’m circling around to East Bay.”
“He just hung a left. He’s on Meeting Street now.”
“Okay, okay. Let it play out.”
“He just passed the bridge. Still headed north.”
“Start moving that way. I’ll let you lead.”
She put her car in gear and began driving, wondering how smart this half-baked surveillance effort was. She wanted to find Amena more than life itself, and she knew Pike felt the same, but wondered if he wasn’t projecting a solution that would take them away from a more productive thread. She also questioned how Pike had found this guy.
But she knew the answer. He’d leveraged the Taskforce, just as she’d asked. She understood it was patently illegal, and not something she should sanction, but she did. She’d learned a little bit about the evil in the world since colliding with Pike Logan, and where she once would have balked at his walking on the edge, she no longer did, sometimes even encouraging him to lean over. It looked like he had here.
She raced up Meeting Street, seeing on her tablet that the car had entered the interstate, still headed north. She gave Pike the information, and then entered the freeway herself, the car five miles ahead.
Twenty minutes later he was off the interstate and the beacon was stationary. She exited, following the beacon track, and found herself at a Staybridge Inn, north of Charleston, near Goose Creek.
He’s at another hotel?
She pulled into the parking lot, noticing that this hotel was not nearly as fancy as the one downtown. A place for longer-term stays, it was utilitarian, with what looked like military men and women coming and going, in an area that was full of strip malls and used car lots.
She said, “Pike, this is Koko, he’s stopped, but it wasn’t at a house. It’s another hotel. The Staybridge Inn on Ashley Phosphate.”
Pike said, “Hotel? Shit, that’s no help. We don’t know the room.”
She felt his frustration, and was about to respond when he said, “Hold what you got. I’m going back to the Taskforce.”
“Who are you talking to?”
“Creed. He won’t like it, though.”
“Hang on. Don’t burn that bridge. Let me do a little social engineering. I’ll find his room the old-fashioned way.”
“How’s that?”
She opened the door and said, “I’ll show the desk clerk some cleavage.”
She heard Pike splutter and jogged to the side of the building, looking for an entrance. She said, “Calm down, Neanderthal. I’m just kidding. I have an idea. If it doesn’t pan out, then pull the trigger on Creed.”
He said, “What? What idea? I’m twenty minutes out.”
She said, “Trust me. We’ll know by the time you get here. How long was the car rental for?”
She had a plan of attack, and because of it she didn’t want to walk straight into the lobby, preferring to enter where it looked to the desk clerk like she was already inside. She found a side door with a key-card access panel. She pulled the handle, hoping it was only in use at night.
It was.
She skirted down the hallway, looked left, and saw Lannister McBride waiting on the elevator holding a Coke and a microwave dinner from the hotel store. She ducked back inside the hallw
ay, waiting.
She heard the bell for the elevator, paused another second, then turned the corner, marching into the lobby. She went straight to the front desk, seeing a clean-shaven black man behind the counter.
He said, “Can I help you?”
“Yeah, you can. I’m a little embarrassed. I just left my room, but without my key. I’ve locked myself out.”
He smiled and said, “No problem. Room number?”
“Lannister McBride.”
He tapped it into the computer and said, “Room 404?”
“That’s it.”
He frowned at the screen and said, “Lannister McBride? He’s here by himself.”
Jennifer turned on the wattage of her smile and said, “He is. I’m his wife. He got here two weeks ago, and he’s here for another three. I’m just visiting for the weekend.”
The man behind the counter returned the smile and said, “Sounds like he’s working at the navy base.”
He ran a new key card through the access control, then said, “Charleston’s a good place to visit, I’ll give you that.”
He held out the key and she took it, then saw him squint his eyes at the screen again, saying, “Hey, he just came through here. I sold him a microwave dinner.”
She turned and said, “Yeah, trust me, he’s not eating that when I’m here. We’re going out.”
He laughed and said, “You go, girl.”
She reached the elevator feeling the sweat on her neck at her subterfuge.
She pressed the button and said on the net, “I have him. I’ll call when complete.”
Pike said, “I’m almost at the parking lot. Turn on your speaker phone. I want to hear what’s happening.”
She dug her phone out of her purse, activated the speaker function, then said, “Why is that? You don’t trust me?”
“No, no. It’s not that. I just want to be able to react if I need to. Before you can call.”
She entered the elevator and said, “Don’t come up here unless it’s an emergency. You sent me in here for a reason. Don’t screw it up.”
