False Move, page 7
‘We might have another tail,’ said Po and growled a curse under his breath.
In the last minute she’d thought about two funerals, and had to give a mental shake to rid herself of the morose scenes. She checked her side mirror, to see if she could spot what had alerted Po. They were in heavy traffic, having cut through midtown back towards Stella’s hotel. She had no idea which of the dozens of vehicles behind them had caught Po’s attention: this time there was nothing as obvious as a panel van with blacked-out windows.
‘The black Chrysler,’ Po pointed out, ‘four cars back. It’s been with us through three different turns now. I’ve given it an opportunity to close the space between us twice, but the driver’s deliberately sitting back.’
‘Is it the same guy you pushed over?’
‘Couldn’t say,’ Po admitted, but took a longer look in his rear-view mirror and changed his mind. ‘Don’t think so. This driver’s head isn’t as fat as that blowhard’s was. Plus, this time, he’s making an effort at stealth.’
‘Could you lose him?’
‘In a heartbeat.’ His head cocked as he squinted sidelong at her. ‘D’you want me to lose him?’
‘Do your stuff.’
Po’s teeth flashed.
TWELVE
A city block ahead, the black Mustang cut across two lanes of traffic, inviting angry responses from other drivers: brake lights flashed and horns blared, and somebody cursed out of an open window loud enough for Hayden James to hear. Before anyone else got moving again the Mustang took a left turn and sped away and the traffic lights overhead turned red. Hayden snorted at Villere’s daring manoeuvre, a waste of time in his opinion. Sticking to the redneck’s ass was unnecessary when he already knew where he was going. Villere and his partner were returning to Stella Dewildt’s side, and Megan was still in place to observe their arrival. Hayden could take his time.
The abrupt attempt at losing his tail was contradictory to the manner in which Villere had reacted to the physical threat at Elite’s HQ. Back there, Villere had employed economy of motion and a subtle application of leverage, attacking the smallest of joints to defeat a bigger foe. He appreciated the skill and ease by which Villere had dispatched an enemy who was no stranger to extreme violence, and the brief display had taught Hayden much about the man. Nicolas Villere, as Hayden had figured on first spotting him, was genuinely dangerous, and should be handled with caution. The big dope that’d ended up on his ass, nursing an aching finger and bruised ego, deserved everything he’d got, and Hayden felt no pity for the man. Perhaps Hayden should have urged him to be more cautious, but then he wouldn’t have seen the rare display of Villere’s skill from where he’d remained seated in the van. Hayden had sent in Mitch Burnett as a test, to gauge Villere’s response – a literal pre-emptive poke before he met personally with him. Had Burnett been CQB trained, as had Elites’ most skilled operatives, he’d never have set himself up for a fall that way, but Burnett came from another wing of the company that supplied scary-looking guys to act as doormen and stewards at rowdier, booze-fuelled events. Burnett’s proclivity was for beating up drunks and boisterous youths, he employed his bulk and the red haze of violence to dominate, but had no close quarters battle skills and was therefore ill equipped to handle a sober and skilled fighter. Burnett had approached Hayden on more than one occasion, begging for a job with one of Hayden’s protective services teams, so had willingly answered the summons when Hayden offered him the task of ejecting some unwanted visitors: he’d spectacularly failed his job interview, but Hayden had expected nothing less.
It pleased Hayden that Villere had made an assumption – figuring Burnett was the one to have shadowed his movements from the van – indicating that Villere was fallible. Having protected his identity, it gave Hayden a second bite at the cherry. Though he must ensure he switched rides again; he had decamped from the van to the Chrysler to continue the chase, only to be made almost as quickly by Villere as before. He drove on, ignoring the left turn taken by the Mustang, and called up Megan to arrange a rendezvous point near Dewildt’s hotel. He warned her that Villere and Grey were en route, and this time urged caution, as, unlike Burnett, she wasn’t cannon fodder. Megan assured him that the extra manpower he’d requested earlier had been mobilized, but she was loathe to back off from Dewildt before they arrived: her target was currently seated in her hotel lounge with Megan sequestered close by.
‘You’ve about five minutes, then you need to get outta there,’ he warned her. Holbrook had already informed him that Megan had been made, and the PI, Tess Grey, had demanded she be withdrawn.
‘Blondie can go fuck herself,’ Megan snarled. ‘If she doesn’t like it, I’ll gladly fuck her over myself.’
‘Holbrook wants this handled differently.’
‘I don’t give a damn … This is personal, Hayden.’
‘No, Megan, it’s not. Retrieving the data comes first, your beef with Lace second, and the rest of humanity third. You get me? If that doesn’t suit, I’ll pull you the hell off the job, and see how you get on without our resources behind you.’
Megan fumed silently for a moment. Hayden was under no illusion. Megan was resourceful enough to find – and kill – Lacey without support from Elite, but she was also wise enough to take the second option. Besides, if she went rogue, she wouldn’t get paid, and beyond her thirst for vengeance she was greedy for cash. ‘Don’t worry, I’m still with the program, Hayden, but I’m telling you this: Lace is still getting it, and no blond bitch gets to waltz in and keep me from him.’
‘I hear you, but be cool. There are ways and means to get this done without more complications we could do without.’ Covering up Jacob Mathers’s death had been taken care of – his body was in a sunken container out in the north Atlantic – but having been washed downstream to fetch up short at Squantum Point had meant there was no chance of a clean-up regarding Ethan Prescott. Up until now, Elite had managed to avoid any connection with Prescott; all his employment records had been expunged from their systems, and the man himself personally disavowed as if he’d never been on their books. A determined investigation would uncover his connection with the company, but fortunately – incentivized by Holbrook – the investigating detectives had kept Elite’s name out of their reports and written off his death as a mugging gone wrong. However, Holbrook couldn’t steer a police investigation where third-party players were involved. The involvement of Grey and Villere in the hunt for Aaron Lacey was a wrinkle, but one that could be smoothed without Elite’s apparent inclusion. ‘Like I said Holbrook’s on it, and there’s an alternative solution in motion. For now, I need you to fall back and let the other team take over—’
‘Wait one, her cell’s ringing,’ said Megan. ‘I need to get closer.’
‘I said back off, goddammit.’
‘Yeah, yeah, but you also gave me five minutes’ grace.’ Megan cut the call.
Hayden shook his head, more the way a long-suffering parent might disapprove of a naughty child’s antics than with any genuine displeasure. Megan had a rebellious streak as wide as her dislike of beautiful people. How she’d ever managed a six-year military career without losing everything through her inability to follow orders was beyond him. Then again, he supposed she was correct: he had told her she had five minutes before she needed to back off.
He drove with a touch more urgency, arriving at Huntington Avenue within a few minutes, and fed a parking metre in view of the public library and the chain hotel where Dewildt first met with her friends from Portland. Stella Dewildt’s hotel was two blocks north beyond the library, plenty distance for him to approach unobserved from. He donned a baseball cap and an unobtrusive dark brown jacket, to help blend in, as he crossed the junction towards Copley Square and came within sight of Stella’s hotel. Valets were busy parking visitors’ cars and hailing cabs for others: he doubted Villere would hand over his Mustang to them, and reckoned he would have parked elsewhere, so wasn’t concerned by its absence. He was confident he hadn’t misjudged Villere’s destination, so took care not to be spotted; the damn redneck had proven to have the vision of a bird of prey. He called Megan on his cell.
‘Sit rep,’ he demanded the second she picked up.
‘Made it out by the skin of my teeth,’ she said. ‘Stella’s friends are here, they’re all chatting over coffee in the hotel lounge.’
‘Villere too?’
‘Is that the redneck? Yeah, he’s there. Least he was last I saw of him.’
‘Be wary of him, Megan; he might look like a dumb hick but you know how looks can be deceiving.’
‘Amen to that,’ she growled.
‘The call Stella took?’ he prompted, to get her back on track.
‘Wasn’t from her dad,’ said Megan, ‘it was Blondie asking where to meet. I suppose in hindsight we should’ve known we wouldn’t get that lucky.’
‘Sooner or later we’ll catch a break. Either Lace will surface, or the PI will lead us to him. Holbrook had our analysts do a background search on her. By all accounts Tess Grey gets results, at least she has done in the past coupla years. Before that she’d an unremarkable career with the Sheriff’s department. Word on the street is she’s been “unofficially” hooked up with this “Po” character – that’d be Nicolas Villere – for the last two years and maybe it’s no coincidence her fortunes changed with him at her side.’
Megan grunted in scorn. ‘You sound like you respect him.’
‘I do. If he applied for a job I’d give him a position on my team, no questions asked. That doesn’t mean a thing when it comes to our mission: if he gets in our way, I’ll show him the respect he’s due, but it won’t stop me shooting him in the face if need be.’ Hayden paused for a beat. ‘Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.’
‘If it comes to it, I’ll happily do them both, him and his bitch.’
‘You’re forgetting what I said about wanting no further complications … if we kill ’em, we’ll have the job of burying them, and that’s time and effort I’d rather spend on getting Lace. Besides, if we kill them, Stella Dewildt will have to go too: who knows how many others know they’ve spoken with Holbrook; Elite will be immediate suspects in their murders. It’s too messy, Megan.’
‘We don’t have to kill them, just get the team together, work them over and warn them who they’re messing with. I’d bet a dollar to a dime they’d run home with their tails between their legs.’
‘From what I’ve heard they aren’t easily frightened. They took down some crime lord and his demented brother, not to mention a bunch of other assorted maniacs since, and recently some heavy hitters from right here in Boston. They won’t back down from a fight. Like I said: too messy, too many complications, and our priority’s getting back the data before the shit hits the fan and things get messier.’
‘What exactly is this data Lace stole?’
‘I’ve told you before, that’s above your pay grade, Megan.’
‘I’d like to know if it’s going to affect my liberty if it gets out,’ she said.
‘It will bring Elite down in flames,’ Hayden warned, ‘and that should be enough motivation to concentrate on getting it back.’
‘What if Lace releases it before we get him … have you got a contingency in place, Hayden?’
Hayden said nothing.
‘Thought so,’ said Megan. ‘Maybe I should invest in a one-way ticket to a country without an extradition treaty with the US, huh?’
‘If Lace intended on releasing the data, he would’ve done it by now.’
‘Maybe he hasn’t been fit to do much except lay low. Judging by the blood we found, he didn’t get off scot free with Mathers, and I’m betting Ethan didn’t go down too easy either. Would be a shame if he’s already dead, and he floated downstream with Ethan all the way to the sea. It’d mean I won’t get to kill him a second time.’
‘If he’s out in the bay then good, the data will be beyond salvageable. But neither of us believes that, Megan. So we stay focused, and we get it back.’
‘Like I said, I’m still with the program.’
‘Are the others in place?’ Throughout their conversation Hayden had been watchful, both for Elite operatives and for Villere, but had seen neither.
‘Johnson and Nicholls are on them in the lounge. Seung and Aiken are covering the doors. I’ve repositioned to the foyer.’
‘Get yourself outta there, it’s too close. Villere had eyes on you this morning, and I bet he’s got a memory for faces.’
‘Faces like mine, you mean,’ Megan rasped.
‘Get over yourself, Megan. Come meet me out in the square.’
‘I would, but we’ve got movement. All three targets.’
‘Get your damn head down then, and make sure you aren’t made.’
‘No worries there, boss,’ Megan said, ‘they don’t have a line of sight on me. OK. They’re heading for the exit, you should see them in three, two …’
‘One,’ said Hayden, and true to her word, spotted Villere, Grey and Dewildt exit the hotel. They huddled a few seconds outside the doorway, the two women talking animatedly, while their male companion used the opportunity to light a cigarette while scanning the area. Hayden had found an observation point in the lea of Trinity Church, and was largely obscured from view by people milling about as they boarded their ride at a bus stop. Trusting that Villere was watching for Mitch Burnett’s ugly mug, Hayden didn’t make any furtive movements, which were sure to catch an observant person’s attention, but strolled to a point where pedestrians drawn to the stalls in a farmer’s market surrounded him, offering an extra layer of camouflage. He didn’t put away his cell phone, speaking on it looked natural, and gave him an excuse to stand in one spot. He observed the trio only in his peripheral vision, only noticing when a taxi pulled in at the curb that Stella was toting luggage.
‘Megan,’ he snapped, ‘get Seung and Aiken mobile fast; Dewildt is about to leave in a cab and I want to know where she’s going.’
‘On it,’ said Megan, and she cancelled the call in order to hail their back-up team.
By then Tess Grey was already waving off Stella, and Hayden cursed under his breath. His pulse rate quickened unexpectedly: hell, years had passed since he’d felt a spurt of adrenaline like it. He’d always maintained a cool head in combat, and it was only when his body responded to abject failure that he ever experienced the flooding of endorphins through it. The last time he’d reacted similarly was when insurgents pinned down his unit in a nameless Afghan waddi system and the prospects of getting out alive were slim. On that occasion he’d lost men, and also some of his own blood, and though his heroic actions in fighting off a greater force were later commended, he’d only felt the sting of failure; the cold wash of adrenalin through his body gave him another disquieting sensation now. In the face of it, losing Stella Dewildt was in no way tantamount to losing soldiers under his command to enemy fire, but shit, it was a failure all the same, and he did not like it.
Slow moving traffic, delayed further by a delivery vehicle blocking one lane, conspired to help Hayden out. Before Stella’s taxi had cleared the curb, and joined stationary vehicles at a red light, he spotted a familiar vehicle feed into the queue half a dozen spaces behind. He could tell even from his distant vantage that Aiken and Seung had made it to their vehicle with seconds to spare. His pulse slowed, but his core still trembled. He rang Megan’s cell again.
‘Get Johnson and Nicholls on the PI, and remind them to keep a healthy distance, then you come join me,’ he said without preamble. Next he rang Holbrook’s number.
‘Tell me you’ve got a lead on Lace,’ said Holbrook.
‘Nothing’s changed there, sir, but we’re still on his daughter, and hope he’ll contact her soon.’
‘That’s not good enough. You need to make your own leads, Hayden, not wait around hoping for the best.’
‘If you mean pressing Dewildt harder, there’s no opportunity for that while her friends are in town. Not unless you want the cops coming down on us.’
‘I know that and don’t need reminding. They’re a damn inconvenience showing up like this. However, they shouldn’t be in the way too much longer.’
