Predator's Game, page 12
part #6 of Scott Wolfe Series
“I’m not going anywhere,” Penny said.
I crossed my arms and leaned back in my chair. “Apparently, neither am I,” I muttered.
She stared at me for several seconds and smiled. “Where’s your phone?”
I cocked my head to the side and abruptly sat up as if I’d just remembered something important. I began patting my pockets. “Oh shit! I bet I left it on the nightstand at the hotel.”
She shook her head. “You think this is a game?”
“No! I’m heartbroken… I loved that phone.”
A sadistic grin tugged at the corners of her lips. “You are going to be here until you cooperate.”
“Well, I hope you have some towels, because I have to piss.”
As if on cue, the door opened and Director Burgess walked into the room. I realized how serious this was immediately. Prisoners don’t usually get a visit from the Director of National Clandestine Services.
“Give me a minute with Scott,” Burgess said to Penny.
She continued to glare at me for several seconds before finally vacating her chair and leaving the room. After the door closed, Burgess flipped the microphone switch off at the door before lowering the blinds in front of the two-way mirror. Had he been a younger man, I’d have been worried I was about to get worked over.
He smiled before sitting opposite me. “How are you, Scott?” he asked, seemingly sincere in his concern.
“I’m doing pretty well, under the circumstances,” I replied. “I’m feeling pretty strong.”
The last part was meant as a hint that if he really wanted to draw this out, I was up to it.
“That’s good,” he replied, clasping his hands in front of him and letting his gaze drop as if he had his script tattooed on the backs of his thumbs. “I want to thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I replied quickly, startled by the change of tactics.
“The Secretary wanted me to convey her thanks to you as well.”
“Gratefully received… Let her know the next time you see her.”
He stared at his hands for quite a long time before looking up at me slowly. He examined me with piercing eyes, almost as if he were extracting the information he needed without asking a single question.
After a few more seconds of peeling my skin back with his eyes, he leaned forward. “What do you need from me?”
I felt my eyebrows rise of their own accord. It was such a startling question that all my training in keeping my expressions in check went out the window.
“Space,” I replied. “That’s all I need.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Are you certain you know what you’re doing?”
“No sir, I am not,” I replied.
He nodded grimly. “Space,” he said, without looking up.
“Yes sir,” I said, before I suddenly remembered something else. “And Greg Bailey’s communications logs.”
He tipped his head to the side. “From when he was at Peary?”
I nodded. “And any visitor or call logs since he’s been in custody.”
He rubbed his chin briefly before nodding. “You’re walking a dangerous line,” he said. “And you know full well we can’t use Agency resources for investigating within the US. It’s a crime.”
“All the more reason space is important,” I replied.
He squinted at me for a beat. “That’s not exactly the answer I was looking for.”
“Then let me rephrase… Yes, sir, I understand completely.”
He nodded as amusement tugged at the microexpressions on his brow and one corner of his mouth. “Okay,” he replied after a moment and rose before going to the door. “Space.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He opened the door and leaned his head into the hallway. “I believe him,” he said to someone outside. “We’ve been at this long enough. It’s time to let him go.”
“But sir—” Penny protested, coming back into the room and glaring at me.
“That’s it for now, Miss Rhodes. He’s earned some recovery time,” Burgess said before turning to me. “Come on out of there, Scott. And before you leave, why don’t you go down and say hi to the analysts. I’m sure they’d like to see you…it’s been a while.”
“Yes sir,” I replied with no inflection. “Thank you, sir.”
I walked past the small group in the hallway. Among them was Bad Suit, his nose bandaged from the whack I’d given him at the airport.
He glared at me as I left. “Another time,” he said as I walked past.
“Whatevs,” I muttered as I pushed past him.
As I walked toward the stairs, I heard Penny’s footsteps clacking behind me, closing in rapidly. When I reached the door, she had caught up and grabbed me by the arm.
I stopped and turned to face her. “Someone else grabbed me like that earlier today,” I said looking down at her hand and back to her face. “I wouldn’t normally hit a woman, but…”
“I heard about that,” she said, releasing me slowly. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage to Cotton without having to break his nose on top of it?”
Wait! What?!
“Cotton…? As in Camp Peary, let’s abduct the new kid and make him think it’s real, Cotton?”
She nodded.
I had disabled one of my attackers on that night, sending him to the hospital, never to return to Camp Peary—not while I was still there anyway. Now I felt bad…a little…well, maybe not. It was hard to tell.
“Shit,” I muttered.
“And don’t think you’re off the hook with that laptop,” she snapped.
I turned and walked through the door to the stairwell. “I don’t know what laptop you’re talking about.”
I could feel her staring at me from the top of the stairs as I descended to the analysts’ floor. When I reached the small set of cubicles reserved for the analysts in John’s section, Ruth looked up and smiled. “Someone said you might be down to see me.”
“I couldn’t leave without saying hi to my favorite analyst,” I said as I arrived and wrapped my arms around her for a hug. I put my mouth next to her ear and whispered, “I need all of Bailey’s communications logs including visitors and calls since we caught him.”
Her startled expression over the unusual familiarity disappeared when she realized there was a mission involved. She nodded and sat down after I broke our embrace. “So what’s new?” I asked as she began typing.
“Huh?”
Analysts…you’d think they’d pick up some covert behavior hanging around at Langley all day.
“Here,” I replied. “Is anything new? Who’s dating who? What’s the flavor of the week at the ice cream shop? You know…what’s new?”
“Oh yeah…right,” she said, finally seeming to take my lead as she continued to work. “Not much. Everyone is still pretty much just trying to get a grip on…”
After a second of reaching for words, she shook her head.
“Never mind,” I said. “It’s fine.”
I squatted down next to her and rested my arms on her desk, setting my chin on top of them.
“Are you okay?” she asked in a near whisper without looking away from her screen.
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” she asked as she downloaded the logs to an SD card. “I mean…”
I smiled and shook my head. “I’m good. This helps a lot.”
She nodded and looked down. “I don’t know if you guys realize it or not, but when you’re in trouble, it’s really hard for us to…”
She seemed to be having a hard time putting a finish on her sentences today. “We feel it,” I replied. “And it is, as always, very appreciated.”
“Scott! Holy shit!” another analyst, Thomas, exclaimed as he walked over.
“Shhhh,” I said as I extended a marred and skinned-knuckled handshake, winking as he and another analyst, Bee, stopped in front of us. “I’ve been ordered on sick leave…I don’t want anyone to know I’m here.”
“Right,” he whispered. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate that.”
“I just mean…”
“I know. I’m busting your nuts.”
“Oh…right,” he replied as an awkward grin formed.
Motion at the other end of the large room caught my attention. Penny Rhodes came in after looking around.
Ruth noticed my hesitation at seeing Penny and stood abruptly. She smiled and hugged me, slipping the SD card into my palm without the others seeing it. “Let me know if you need anything else,” she whispered.
“I will. Thanks, Ruth.”
“Uh oh, here comes the boss,” Thomas said, just noticing Penny.
“I wasn’t here,” I said, eliciting a nod from all three of them as I turned.
“Get well,” Thomas called to my back, drawing Penny’s attention.
Shit!
“Monkey Wrench!” Penny called, walking toward me. I ignored her and continued toward the elevators.
“Scott!” she yelled louder. I stepped in the elevator and turned just as the doors began to slide shut. Her arm reached through, stopping them from closing.
“Holy shit,” I exclaimed as she stepped in, her face a picture of fury. “Why the hell didn’t you ask me to hold it for you?”
“You didn’t hear me calling you?” she asked, anger creasing her forehead.
I let my expression form a mask of innocence. “I’m so sorry. The flash bangs did a number on my hearing, I’ve had trouble hearing behind me since Basel.”
She squinted at me suspiciously. “You might have fooled the director, but I know what you’re doing.”
I smiled. “Honest to God, I just want to go home and crash.”
“Bullshit,” she said, stepping uncomfortably close to me. “You are one slip-up from being rogue. You being on the outside gives us the ability to disavow you at the first fuckup…or maybe even just because we’re tired of trying to keep up with you.”
I looked up at the security camera in the corner before looking back at her with a false smile. “Your paranoia, though admirable, is starting to make me feel a little closed in,” I said quietly. “In fact, if you don’t back up a little, it just might trigger a bout of PTSD…and who knows what might happen then.”
A startled rise of her eyebrows led to a half a step backward. “You might think you’re running solo, but I can promise you, if you tie your shoelaces differently in the morning, we’ll know about it.”
“Fuck off, Penny,” I muttered as I turned and leaned against the rail.
She seemed somewhat surprised by that as well.
“I’m going to get that laptop.”
“Yeah…good luck finding that thing,” I replied as the elevator reached the lobby level. “I wish I could help you, but, as I’ve said, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
The door slid aside and I stepped off. She rushed to follow, but several executive level officers came toward the elevator as she opened her mouth. She smiled a fake smile and nodded. “Get better… You did good up there.”
I let a tired grin slide up my cheek. “See you in a week or so.” I stepped away, making sure my gait and limp reflected what was to be expected from the trauma I had endured. When I got to the security checkpoint, I flashed my badge, which had been returned to me upon entering. “Can I get shuttle service into Tyson’s Corner?”
The guard picked up his phone and dialed an extension while I watched. Not a Baynebridge guard, I realized. The CIA already replaced them.
“It’ll pull up just outside the main entrance,” the guard said. “It shouldn’t be more than five or ten minutes.”
“Thanks,” I replied as I limped toward the door.
“Do you need assistance, sir?” he called to my back.
I shook my head. “You’ve already given it to me.”
I’d get a taxi back to Falls Church after making sure no one followed me to Tyson’s. If Penny Rhodes wanted me to feel watched, I wasn’t going to make it easy for her.
**
11:05 p.m.—Storc’s House, Falls Church, Virginia
“Hey!” I yelled through the open front door.
Outside, a construction dumpster sat half full of building debris. As I stepped into the house, the smell of fresh cement greeted me, making my eyes water after only a few seconds.
“Hello!” I called again. Again with no reply.
I began to search the house. I assumed Storc was downstairs in his basement server room. As I descended, the smell of wet concrete increased, and I was surprised to come face-to-face with a two-foot-thick wall of the stuff, split at an opening with a doorless steel frame.
“What the…?”
I went through the opening and found the entire basement had been encased in the same material, like the cinderblock walls had spontaneously oozed a thick cement inner cocoon.
“Storc!” I yelled before flipping on the light switch—no electricity.
I closed my eyes and let my other senses stretch out into the darkness of the newly armored basement—I didn’t sense anyone. “Where the hell are you?” I muttered, heading back upstairs and away from the heaviest concentration of fumes.
The house was silent and chilly. The door seemed to have been open for a while, though without the heat running, I couldn’t be sure. As I climbed the stairs to check the upper bedrooms, I heard a car pull up outside and a door slam. I came back down, quietly, wary of an ambush.
I slipped around the corner at the bottom and pressed myself flat against the living room wall as footsteps reached the front porch. I tensed ready to strike when I heard the switches flip on and off next to the front door, followed by a frustrated sigh.
“Where are you?” Storc yelled before a beam from flashlight pierced the darkness.
“Here,” I said, startling him.
“Jesus,” he breathed. “Were you always that stealthy?”
I smiled and squinted as he flashed the light in my eyes. “Do you mind?”
“Huh? Oh,” he said before dropping the light. “I got over here as fast as I could when I saw you go in.”
“Saw me?”
“Yeah,” he replied with a devious grin, pointing at the top of the door frame. “Look…micro cameras.”
I took his flashlight and pointed it at the small pinhole in the wood of the frame. There was one on each side. One facing the sidewalk from the street and the other pointing into the main foyer.
“Getting paranoid?” I asked.
“Wouldn’t you be?” he replied and then realized who he was asking. “Shit… Fuck you,” he muttered with a grin.
“Nice bunker downstairs.”
“Be nice,” he muttered, leaning in to give me a hug. “I’m being proactive with security. I thought you’d be happy.”
“I am. It just took me off guard,” I said, sitting on the bottom step. “Did Kathrin find you?”
He nodded. “Actually, I found her…the same way I just found you.”
“Where is she?”
“At my temporary digs,” he replied. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
As we left, I started to pull the front door closed.
“Don’t,” he said. “Let it air out.”
I shrugged and pushed it open again. “If you’re worried about security, leaving your front door open isn’t a good idea.”
“I’ve got the CIA emergency responder set up on remote inside the house,” he said over his shoulder as he walked toward the street. “If anyone goes in that shouldn’t, I’ll activate it, and CIA internal security will be here in less than ten minutes.”
Ah! Right. The security protocols John put in place for my TravTech people before I left for Camp Peary. “Awesome…where are we going?” I asked before stopping in my tracks as he unlocked a beautiful, spooky black Mustang Shelby GT500. “Holy shit!”
“I know, right?” Storc said, grinning like a kid. “I got the full package. SVT Performance and everything.”
“I’m jealous,” I muttered, running my hand over the sleek muscle car.
“Why?” he asked, smug.
I turned and threw him a questioning glare. The keys were already floating through the air when I looked up. I caught them.
“It’s yours.”
“Oh, no, Storc, it’s too much,” I said, shaking my head. “I was kidding. I didn’t mean for you to—”
“It’s yours,” he repeated, grinning.
I shook my head, still staring at him. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say thank you, and then let’s get out of here…it’s cold.”
It felt like what I imagined Christmas to be before I lost all my childhood memories—I was still nearly speechless when I brought him in for a bro hug, slapping him on the back several times before I could break away. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure. Now come on… I’m freezing my balls off.”
I got in on the driver’s side and slipped the key into the ignition. The resulting rumble when I started the rolling masterpiece permeated through my core. I could feel the power even as it idled. Like a black panther that inexplicably laid next to you, calmly, confidently purring, all the while stretching and tensing its sleek muscular body against you—it wanted to flex.
“Go ahead,” Storc said. “Unwind it.”
I pressed on the gas and let the clutch out, peeling more rubber than I had intended. But without hesitation or even a fishtail, it launched forward. When I reached the end of the street, I looked around before accelerating through the turn. As if I were on rails, the rear of the car swung out and aligned us perfectly on the street.
Storc grabbed the dashboard and the edge of his seat. “Do they teach you how to drive like that in the CIA?”
“I had a little experience before the CIA,” I said with a grin as I lined up to take the next street.
After closely caressing the turn, I slowed down to something a little closer to legal. “It’s perfect,” I said. “Like every birthday and Christmas rolled into one sexy machine… Thanks, man.”
“Okay, you’re welcome,” he said, rushed and nervous. “Just slow down.”
I backed off the gas a little more. “Okay, where are we going?”
