Blood Line (A Tom Rollins Thriller Book 1)

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Blood Line (A Tom Rollins Thriller Book 1) Page 19

by Paul Heatley


  “No, no, I’m telling you – it’s one guy! It’s one fuckin’ guy!”

  Harry watches as Michael hesitates. Thinks about this. Wonders if it could be true.

  “Anthony’s brother?” Michael says. “What’s his name?”

  “Tom,” Steve says. “Tom Rollins.”

  “You in touch with him?”

  “He gave me a phone, but it’s just a burner.”

  “You got it on you?”

  “No. It’s at home.”

  “We could get it,” Harry says. “Message him, pretending to be Steve. Get him to meet us somewhere, ambush him.”

  Steve laughs. “You think he’d fall for that?” He laughs harder, like something has come over him. He doesn’t sound like himself. “He ain’t some asshole amateur like all of y’all – this guy is hardcore. He knows what he’s doing, and he’s coming for you all. He’s gonna fuckin’ kill you.”

  “That sound like a smart thing you should be saying right now?” Michael says.

  “Fuck you!” Steve says. He spits at him. “I’m already dead. You think I’m an idiot? I already know it.”

  Harry hits him in the back of the head. “We could make him talk,” Harry says, to Michael. “Down the phone, to Tom. If he hears the voice, he’s more likely to believe it.”

  “I won’t do it,” Steve says. He laughs again, but it sounds more like a bark. “There ain’t nothin’ you can make me do. This is the end. I told you everything you wanna know; this is the end for me. I ain’t stupid.”

  “You sure sound stupid,” Michael says, “running off at the mouth like that.”

  “He’s gonna kill you all,” Steve says. “I can die happy, knowing that. He’s gonna kill you all!”

  Michael looks at Harry. They’ve gotten all they’re going to get from Steve, and now he sounds like he’s losing his mind. Michael nods. Harry snaps his neck, then lets him fall from the chair.

  “Call in whoever we’ve got left,” Michael says. “We’re going to ground. If this guy, Anthony’s brother, if he’s coming for us, we’re gonna be ready for him this time.”

  52

  Tom returns to Harrow. It’s time to wrap this up. Michael and Harry are all that remain. By now, they’re probably aware of what has happened to Ronald. Tom didn’t want to leave it this long. He wanted to strike them straight away, but he couldn’t. They had to wait. He needed to be sure Ben would be able to carry through on what needed to be done. He couldn’t. Tom did the right thing. Now, the person responsible for leaking the information about his brother is dead.

  Worryingly, though, there is probably more than just her involved. It could be anyone within the FBI. It could go further.

  He goes by Harry’s house first. There’s no sign of him. He doesn’t see Beth there, either, but he assumes she’s at work. Next, he goes to Michael’s. Watches through his binoculars, but there’s no sign of life. He goes around the back, creeps through the woods. Gets close. The house is silent. It’s empty. There’s no one home. No sign of the wife, either. Tom waits a while, to see if they return, but they don’t.

  They know about Ronald. It’s spooked them.

  He tries calling Steve. There’s no answer. Tom goes to his house. There’s no answer at the door. Tom goes around the side, to the back. Tom can see him through the window. He’s in his room, at his computer, his back to the glass. Tom knocks. Steve doesn’t turn. Something feels off. Then Tom sees that the computer is not switched on. He checks around the inside of the window, craning his neck. It’s wired. A booby-trap. It’ll go off if he tries to get in through the window. There’s likely one around the door, too. Maybe every window. The whole house is a time bomb, just waiting for someone to try to get inside.

  Steve is dead. The Right Arm has killed him and rigged his house. It’s more than likely they tortured him first. Got all the information out of him they could.

  They’ll know about Tom, now. They’ll be expecting him, ready for him. Looking for him.

  Tom needs to find them.

  He goes to the front of the house, leaves a note on the door. This house is booby-trapped. Call the bomb squad. By the time it’s seen, Tom will likely be done with his business in Harrow.

  53

  A few people, knowing the relationship between Ben and Carly, have asked him where she is. He’s played dumb. All he’s given by way of explanation is to say that she’s been complaining about feeling ill lately. Has worried she’s maybe coming down with the flu. Maybe something she picked up while she was visiting her parents. She hasn’t called in? No one else has heard anything?

  In reality, he doesn’t know where she is. He doesn’t know what Tom has done with her body. Taken her away to dispose of her elsewhere? Cut her up into small pieces? Ben chews on his cheek, and he tries not to think about it too hard. It makes his stomach turn.

  He has her laptop. It’s in a bag under his desk.

  Tom asked him, “Who do you trust?” Ben couldn’t answer. He thought long and hard – he’s still thinking – and there’s no one who springs to mind.

  He has to take it to Gerry. He has no choice. It’s a big risk, but it’s one he’s going to have to run. Carly’s laptop could contain the names of everyone involved, everyone within the FBI secretly working against everything they stand for.

  Ben makes his move.

  He grabs the bag, slings it over his shoulder, tries to look casual as he travels down the hallway to Gerry’s office, nodding at fellow agents, saying hello, wondering all the while how many of them are his enemy.

  Gerry looks up as he enters. He raises an eyebrow at the bag Ben carries. “That looks suspiciously like it’s carrying a laptop,” he says. “I’ve told you, Ben, I’ve done all I can already. There was nothing on it.”

  Ben puts the bag down in front of him. “This one isn’t mine.”

  “No? Whose is it?”

  “Agent Carly Hogan’s.”

  “And what’s happened to this one? She been hacked, too?”

  Ben takes a deep breath. He glances back at the door. He goes to it, locks it. When he turns back, Gerry is alarmed. “She’s the one who got into mine,” Ben says.

  Gerry’s jaw drops. “You serious?”

  Ben nods.

  “What the hell? You’re sure? How do you know?”

  “I know.”

  “Well, what have you done about it? This is a big fucking deal, Ben. Have you told Jake?”

  Ben is pleased by Gerry’s reaction. It looks, it feels, genuine. “I haven’t told anyone,” Ben says. “Only you.”

  “Me? What do you expect me to do about it?”

  “I expect you to get into her laptop and find out who she’s involved with. It wasn’t just her. There are more.”

  Gerry bites his lip. He looks at Ben. “Where is Agent Hogan?”

  “She’s elsewhere.” Ben isn’t going to give details. “I can’t bring her in until I know who else is involved. You understand? I don’t know who I can trust.”

  Gerry’s eyes narrow. He looks fearful of Ben’s paranoia concerning the rest of the department. “But you trust me?”

  “I had no choice,” Ben says. “I need your help. And if I can’t trust you, well, I guess I’m royally screwed.”

  Gerry holds eye contact. “Ben, I swear to you, whatever Carly is involved in, I have no part of it. I promise you.”

  Ben nods, pushes the bag with the laptop closer. “Can you get inside?”

  “I’ll try.” Gerry pulls the laptop from the bag, opens it up.

  “Her phone’s in there, too,” Ben says. “Can you do anything with that?”

  “Maybe. But if she’s as deep in this as you think, you really think she’s going to have been communicating on her phone?”

  “It’s worth looking.”

  Gerry pops his fingers, then gets to work. Ben steps to one side, takes a seat, leaves him to it. Chews his cheek while he waits, keeps one eye on the door, fearful that there should come a knock, that someone will t
ry the handle, try to get inside. Ben is confident he can play it cool, but can Gerry?

  “Shit,” Gerry says.

  Ben looks up. He isn’t sure how much time has passed; he hasn’t been keeping track. “What is it?”

  “Whoever she’s been talking to, it’s encrypted. And it’s real sophisticated.”

  “Can you break it?”

  Gerry’s fingers have never stopped typing. “I’m trying.”

  “Can you tell how many people, at least?”

  Gerry shakes his head without looking up.

  Ben lets him work, knows that the only way he can help him is by remaining silent.

  Minutes pass. Gerry never stops working. His eyes never stray from the screen; he barely blinks. He’s engrossed in his work, determined to get through.

  “I’m in,” Gerry says.

  Ben jumps to his feet, comes around the desk.

  It’s there.

  It’s all there.

  They read it together. They read in silence for ten minutes, every piece of communication. Ben feels his stomach sinking. A quick glance at Gerry, and he knows he’s feeling the same thing.

  “Who is this?” Ben says. “Who’s she talking to?”

  “I don’t know,” Gerry says. He starts tapping at the keys again.

  “What’re you doing?”

  “I’m trying to see if I can find where these messages came from, and from who.”

  Ben waits, watches him work. What he’s doing isn’t clear to him; it doesn’t make sense. Nothing seems to be happening. “Well?”

  Gerry shakes his head. “I can’t get it. There’s a deeper encryption.”

  “So we don’t know who’s helping her,” Ben says.

  Gerry raises his eyebrows, points at the screen. “But we know all this.”

  Ben nods, solemn, thinking. “Get the phone open,” he says. “The answers might be there.”

  Gerry takes the phone from the bag. He plugs it in, connects it to his laptop. He taps at his keys, taps at the phone’s screen. It’s open. He hands it to Ben.

  Ben looks through, reads the messages, looks at her calls. His own name pops up. He ignores it. Can’t find anything out of the ordinary.

  “Well?” Gerry says.

  “There’s nothing here,” Ben says. “Like you suspected.”

  “But there’s a lot here,” Gerry says, pointing at the laptop. “This is huge. We can’t let this happen. We have to share this information.”

  Ben looks down at him. He notices Gerry has started sweating. He’s breathing hard. He’s gone pale. “We can’t,” Ben says.

  “What? Are you insane? How can we not? Do you realize how many lives are on the line here? We can’t just allow this to happen.”

  “We’re not going to,” Ben says. “I’m not going to.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll stop it,” Ben says, his mind made up. “I’ll do it. I know it all now. I know their plan, their target; I know what they’re going to do. But we don’t know who else is involved.”

  “You can’t do this on your own,” Gerry says.

  “I have no choice. We don’t know how high this thing goes – what if we tell the wrong person, or they find out? That won’t stop it. It’ll just change the plan, or else we get silenced and it still goes ahead.”

  “Silenced?”

  “You know exactly what I mean,” Ben says. “We’ll be dead. We can’t do anything to stop this if we’re dead.”

  “We should tell Jake,” Gerry says, a hint of panic in his voice.

  “We can’t tell anyone.”

  “You don’t trust Jake?”

  “I don’t trust anyone, not right now. Only you. Do you understand that? Only you. And I need to know that I can trust you, and that you’ll trust me that I know what I’m doing. That I’ll stop this.”

  Gerry is trembling.

  “Gerry, look at me. Calm down. We’re the only two who know. No one knows we know. It’s happening tomorrow. Right now, we have the element of surprise. This works in our favor.”

  “I’m just a computer analyst, Ben,” Gerry says. “I can’t, I mean, this is beyond me. I’m not an agent. I don’t know what to do. This is the kind of thing, I find out, I pass it on. Someone else deals with it.”

  “And someone else will,” Ben says. “Me. I’m going to deal with it.”

  “You’re just one man. You can’t do it alone.”

  Ben thinks about Tom. “I won’t be alone. I’ll have help. Someone from outside the bureau.”

  Gerry narrows his eyes at this. “Who?”

  “He’s a friend. Let’s just leave it at that.”

  Gerry looks doubtful still.

  “Gerry, it’s one night. Keep your mouth shut for one night. I’ll stop this, you’ll see. And after that, we’ll find everyone else involved. All right? We’ll flush them all out. You’ll see. Everything will be all right. Everything will be how it should.”

  Gerry’s lips are pinched tight. He looks like he’s going to be sick. “Carly’s dead, isn’t she?”

  “No,” Ben says. “She’s not.” He can’t tell him the truth. He needs him on his side. The truth of what happened might scare him too much, more than he already is. It might scare him off, send him running. Send him talking. “She’s alive, and after tomorrow, she’s going to give us the names of all of her friends, too.”

  Gerry runs a hand down his face, covers his eyes.

  “Gerry, come on, get up.” Ben takes him by an elbow, pulls him to his feet. “We’re going to leave. Right now, together, understand? We’re going to leave, and I’m going to go home and get ready, and I want you to go home and keep your head down. Lock the doors; stay inside. Don’t call anyone; don’t talk to anyone. Keep the lights off; pretend you’re not in. That clear? Look at me, Gerry. I need to know that you understand what I’m saying.”

  Gerry gives a feeble nod.

  Ben packs the laptop back into the bag. He hooks it over Gerry’s shoulder. “Keep studying it. See if you can break the encryption. See if you can find out who the others are. You do that, you call me.”

  Gerry is almost catatonic, in a state of shock.

  Ben shakes him. “You need to stay with me, Gerry. Look alive. We’re about to leave the building, you and me, together. Come on.”

  Ben takes him by an arm, leads him out of the office. Stands close to him while they walk, using his body to disguise the fact that he’s holding his arm, leading him along.

  They reach the parking lot without incident. “Where’s your car, Gerry?”

  After a moment, Gerry says, “I take the bus.”

  Ben bites his cheek. “Of course you do. Come on, I’ll drop you off.”

  They go to Ben’s car. He shoves Gerry inside, then hurries around to the driver’s door. He looks back at the building as he goes. No one is following them. He starts the car, pulls out, and thinks about what he has to do.

  54

  Tom goes to the motel, looking for Beth. She’s on reception. She smiles at him as he approaches. “Hey,” she says. “How you doin’?”

  “I’m good.” He smiles back at her, takes a seat.

  “You looking to make dinner plans again?” She winks.

  Tom did not use his real surname to sign into the motel. He wonders if Beth knows who Tom Rollins is. If Harry has told her about him, this name, to be wary of it. If he told her how they got it. “I could eat,” he says, playing along. “When do you finish?”

  “Pretty soon,” she says. “You hold out another hour?”

  “Sure,” Tom says. “Meet me at my room. I’ll wait for you there.”

  “See you then.”

  Tom goes to his room. He checks it over before he enters it, looks around. Steve didn’t know he was staying here, but it won’t hurt to be careful. In the room, he removes the Beretta and KA-BAR from his bag, keeps them on him, then puts the bag in the trunk of his car. He waits for Beth to come. Watches for her. Makes sure she’s alone. If
there’s anyone with her, he’ll have the element of surprise. He’ll take them out; then he’ll get what he needs from her.

  When she finally comes, she’s alone. She’s smiling as she makes her way, in between whistling. Looks like she’s in a good mood. Because of him, the prospect of another date?

  Or because of something else?

  When she knocks, Tom is ready, waiting. He grabs her, pulls her into the room, closes the door, clamps a hand over her mouth. Holds her from behind, keeps her subdued. He can feel the way she shakes, her shock.

  Tom speaks into her ear. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he says. “I just need to know where your boyfriend is.”

  He can see the side of her face, the way her eyes widen.

  “I know all about Harry,” he says. “I know all about the two of you. I’m going to take my hand away from your mouth. Don’t scream. I don’t want to hurt you. Do you understand?”

  She nods.

  Tom removes his hand. Beth doesn’t scream. “Tell me where he is,” Tom says.

  “Who are you?” she says.

  “Harry and his friends killed someone very important to me,” Tom says. He’s still holding her tight from behind, close to him, preventing her escape, ready to silence her again. “And they tried to kill my brother. I want to know where he is, ’cause he ain’t at home.”

  “What do you mean? Who did they kill?” She gasps suddenly, realizing. “It wasn’t … it wasn’t the pregnant girl … was it?” She sounds scared to ask, scared to know the answer.

  “Her name was Alejandra.”

  “He promised me,” she says, “he promised me they had nothing to do with that! He played dumb, said he didn’t know anything about it, knew as much as I did!”

  “Tell me where he is.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” Beth says. “We just, we have an … an arrangement. It’s his arrangement, his idea, his rules. I managed to get a little leeway on some of them, but for the most part, it’s whatever he says goes.”

  “I’m not interested in your setup, Beth. Don’t make me ask again.”

 

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