by Dirk Patton
“Too dangerous.”
“Damn it, Baldy. I’m not going to sit on the fucking sidelines! This is my life we’re talking about.”
“And I’m trying to help you get it back. But making poor tactical decisions doesn’t help. You’ve got to trust us. We know what we’re doing. You need to stay far away and let us do our thing. If there’re answers to be gotten, I’ll get them for you.”
They stared at each other, Baldwin refusing to look away and Katarina was the first to blink.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked. “This is way more than just opening up and running a couple of pot dispensaries.”
Baldwin finally looked away to stare out the windshield. She was starting to think he wasn’t going to answer when he spoke.
“It’s what I do. All I’ve done my entire adult life. Besides, Brody thinks of you like a sister. Guess I do, too. That means you’re family, and when family’s in trouble you do whatever needs doing to help them.”
Katarina didn’t know what to say. She settled for leaning across and kissing him on the cheek.
“Thank you,” she said.
He nodded, embarrassed at the display of emotion. Smiling at his discomfort, Katarina got out of the SUV and strode across the lot towards the terminal. Baldwin followed thirty seconds later, scanning the area and checking vehicles as he moved.
It was busy inside the cavernous space when Katarina stepped inside. A train had just arrived, disgorging a full load of passengers. It was the middle of the day, so many were tourists. Unfamiliar with the terminal, most milled about, in no hurry to go anywhere as they busily took selfies and group photos.
Weaving through the mass of bodies, she saw three demons floating behind their human hosts’ faces. It was difficult to not react when she very nearly bumped into one of them, but she averted her eyes and moved on.
She turned into a large alcove that was lined with lockers. About half had keys in their locks and were unused, doors slightly ajar. Moving to the farthest wall, she removed a key from her pocket that she and Baldwin had picked up on the way and knelt in front of a row of oversized lockers.
Taking a quick look over her shoulder, she failed to spot Baldwin but didn’t worry. She knew he’d be somewhere where he could keep an eye on her. Opening the door, she paused and stared at the mildew covered duffel bag. If only she’d left it where she’d found it, none of this would be happening. Matt wouldn’t be dead and people wouldn’t be risking their lives to help her.
Pushing down thoughts that weren’t productive, she dragged the bag out of the locker and stood, slinging it over her shoulder. Turning, she inhaled sharply in surprise when she came face to face with the Retriever and saw the burning red eyes behind his. She struggled to conceal her revulsion at being so close to one of the demons.
“Thank you, Agent Daniels,” he said, extending his hand for the duffel.
She stared into his hard, human eyes for a long moment.
“Why did you kill my husband?”
The Retriever tsked as he shook his head.
“I’ve already told you. If I create a large enough problem for people, they’re suddenly happy to give me what I want so I’ll just go away. Now. If you please?”
He opened and closed his hand a couple of times, frowning when she didn’t move to hand him the cash.
“Pettigrew gave you the gun, didn’t he?”
“There are many people who are happy to do favors for representatives of my employer.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” she hissed. “It was Pettigrew, wasn’t it? Was it your idea or his to frame me for murder?”
The Retriever sighed as he looked at her.
“Agent Daniels, I’m not here to answer your questions. Now, hand me the bag.”
His eyes flashed a warning that she ignored.
“I don’t think so,” she said, pleased by the look on his face. “What are you going to do? Shoot me in front of all these witnesses? And these cameras?”
She looked up at a pair of surveillance cameras to reinforce her point. He stared at her. Considering his options.
“I was going to kill you the night we met,” he said. “But then you knew that. That’s why you concocted the story about the bag still being in the forest. I wasn’t sure until you wanted me to meet you there. That was a mistake on your part.”
“So, what’s changed your mind?”
She was nonplussed when he laughed.
“There is no longer a reason. Soon, you will be in prison and I have no doubt your life expectancy will dramatically decrease the moment you arrive!”
“I’m not giving you the money,” Katarina said, ignoring his comment.
She was glad to see Baldwin drifting with the crowd just outside the alcove. If things started to go bad, he was only five steps away.
“Perhaps a trade, then. Just to keep the peace. Then we can part... if not exactly friends, then at least not mortal enemies. After all, I did you a favor by killing your husband.”
Katarina stared at the man, struggling to maintain her composure and navigate her way out of this mess.
“What could you possibly trade that I’d want?”
“Would a video recording of me being handed your service weapon and discussing when to kill your husband be of interest to you?”
Katarina’s mouth fell open.
“Who... who did it?” she finally stammered. “Is it Pettigrew?”
“The person’s face is very visible on the recording. Mine, of course, is not. But this should be more than sufficient for you to be completely exonerated. Do we have a deal?”
“Where’s the recording? I want to see it, first.”
“It’s in a safe place, Agent Daniels.”
“Of course it is,” she said. “How do I know you’re telling the truth and the recording even exists? Maybe I should just walk away with the money. There’s more than enough cash in this bag for me to disappear.”
“I can take your life before you’ve gone two steps, Agent Daniels,” the Retriever said in a low, dangerous voice. “Then, I’ll take the lives of your partner’s family. Then his.”
Katarina stared, wanting so badly to kill him on the spot. Only the possibility of a recording that would prove her innocence held her back. She’d watched Zophiel. Knew she could simply reach out and touch the man’s forehead and he’d be dead. Before anyone knew something was wrong, she’d vanish into the crowd.
“Tell me how we do this,” she said through clenched teeth.
“I’m so glad you’ve chosen to be reasonable, Agent Daniels. Meet me in one hour.”
“You’re bringing the recording with you?”
“A copy, which I will give to you when I have verified the contents of that bag on your shoulder.”
Katarina thought quickly. She didn’t trust the man for one second. Didn’t believe he was prepared to make a simple trade and just walk away. He was trying to manage the situation to his advantage. He’d been right to maneuver her into retrieving the bag from the locker, having correctly guessed she’d originally told him the truth. But he’d underestimated her, thinking she’d hand the money over.
She wasn’t at all convinced he actually had a recording like he’d described. He was more likely trying to move them to a less public environment so he could force the issue if she still didn’t hand over the duffel. Casually reaching up, she ran her fingers through her hair in a pre-arranged signal to Baldwin.
Instantly, he stepped up behind the Retriever and pressed a handheld Taser to the back of his neck. He grunted and started to collapse, but Baldwin supported him.
“Hold on, George. We’ll get you to the car,” he said loudly in the event anyone had noticed.
Katarina moved in and took the Taser, holding it with the electrodes pressed against the Retriever as Baldwin got an arm around him. Together, they began walking him through the crowd toward the exit. Whenever it seemed he was beginning to regain control of his body, she would tri
gger the Taser for a few seconds to re-scramble his nervous system. She was unconcerned with whether or not the repeated electrical charges on the same location were burning a hole in his skin.
They received a couple of curious glances as they walked him out of the terminal, but no one took any interest in two people helping a friend who’d had too much to drink. Picking up the pace once they were outside, they quickly reached Baldwin’s SUV and the Retriever was roughly shoved into the back. Katarina zapped him again to maintain control while Baldwin searched and disarmed him.
Duct tape secured and gagged the man, then she slammed the hatch. Jumping in front, Baldwin dumped everything he’d taken off the Retriever into the center console, started the engine and headed for the exit.
“Wait!” Katarina suddenly cried and he slammed on the brakes.
She picked up the man’s keys and pressed buttons on the fob until she spotted a small rental car with its lights flashing.
“Got a place to take him?” she asked, popping her door open.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, don’t lose me in traffic,” she said, then ran for the man’s car.
Twenty-Seven
Katarina followed Baldwin through heavy traffic as he headed south. It wasn’t far but took most of half an hour to reach an industrial area in Renton near SeaTac airport. He drove past several empty warehouses before turning into a lot paved with crumbling asphalt. As they approached what looked like a long derelict building, a tall door rolled up and he drove through with her following closely.
One of the Marines who worked with Baldwin pulled on a rope when her vehicle was clear and the door descended, closing with a loud boom. They were left in darkness, only the vehicles’ headlights providing any illumination. A small generator purred to life and several free-standing halogen work lights popped on. The dingy interior of the abandoned building was bathed in a harsh, white glare.
As if this were something they did every day, two Marines opened the rear of the SUV and lifted the Retriever out. Setting him on his feet, they marched him to a metal chair, quickly and efficiently cutting away the duct tape that bound him and securing him to the frame with thick nylon zip ties.
Katarina ignored them, shutting off the car’s engine and immediately beginning a thorough search of the interior. The first thing she found was the rental agreement. The name on the paperwork was Mark Brown. About as generic of a false identity as she’d ever seen.
“What’s going on?” Baldwin asked, peering in through the window.
“He claims he has a recording of someone giving him my service weapon and telling him when to kill Matt,” Katarina said without interrupting her search.
“And you believe him?”
“I refused to hand over the cash. He was bargaining. Wanted to set another meet in an hour.”
Baldwin nodded in thought.
“Buying time to set you up.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” she said, then crawled into the back seat. “Also threatened Brody and his family again.”
Baldwin straightened and looked at their prisoner. The chair to which he was tied was centered in the brilliant light from two banks of halogens.
“Something’s not right about him,” Baldwin said after watching for close to a minute.
“No shit, Baldwin.”
“Don’t mean like that,” he said. “Look at the fucker.”
Katarina paused her search, then stepped out of the vehicle and looked at the Retriever. He was sitting calmly, seemingly unconcerned with having been captured and taken to an empty warehouse.
“How freaked out would you be if you’d been roughed up, hauled across town and tied to a chair?” Baldwin asked quietly.
“A lot more than he is, that’s for sure,” she said.
Frowning, Baldwin motioned for his Marines to join him and spoke quietly for a moment. They nodded and took off at a trot.
“They’re checking the perimeter. Just in case,” he said.
He plugged an earbud into a small handheld radio and carefully inserted it into his ear.
“Find anything in the car?”
“Rental agreement. That’s it. Clean as a whistle. What about the stuff you took off him?”
Baldwin led the way to his SUV. The rear hatch was still open and after he gathered everything he’d put in the console, he dumped it on the carpeted surface of the cargo area. Katarina grabbed a plastic flip-phone, identical to the disposable one she’d bought earlier in the day.
“Those don’t even have cameras,” Baldwin said.
Katarina still took the time to thoroughly examine the device before placing it to the side. All that remained was a wallet with an Illinois driver’s license and a credit card, both in the same name as the rental contract. Other than a few hundred dollars in cash, it held nothing else. Next was a pair of matching, compact Glocks and a small assisted-opening knife.
“This is all he had on him?” she asked.
“Travels light,” Baldwin said.
He paused and she could tell he was listening to the radio bud in his ear.
“All clear outside,” he said. “For the moment, at least. Ready to talk to him?”
Katarina nodded, picked up one of the pistols and led the way into the harsh pool of light that illuminated the area where the Retriever was sitting. She grasped an end of the strip of tape that covered his mouth and ripped it free with a swift jerk.
“It is most unfortunate you have chosen to go down this path, Agent Daniels,” he said as soon as his mouth was free.
“Can you excuse us, please?” she asked Baldwin without taking her eyes off the prisoner.
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said.
“Please. I need to have a private conversation.”
After several long seconds, she heard him walk away. Waiting patiently, she didn’t speak until the sound of his footfalls had receded into the emptiness of the warehouse. Taking a breath, she looked down at the Retriever, staring at the hideous countenance beneath his skin.
“You’re not leaving here alive,” she said softly. “You do understand that.”
He stared back at her and shrugged.
“But I have an offer.”
He barked a laugh and shook his head.
“What? Going to set me free if I give you the recording?”
“Is there a recording? Is it real?”
He stared back at her without answering and after a few beats she nodded as she reached a decision.
“I can see you,” she said.
“Wow. Terrifying. I can see you, too.”
“I see what you really are, and I know where you came from,” she continued. “And I’m offering you a chance. Give me the recording. If it’s real, I’ll kill the body but not damage the brain. You’ll be freed. Otherwise...”
She raised the pistol and pressed the muzzle to the center of the man’s forehead. The creature’s burning red eyes doubled in size and she imagined she could hear a horrible hiss when its mouth opened.
“Do you understand now?” she asked.
“How can you...”
“Do you understand?” she asked again, pressing hard with the pistol.
The man took a breath as the demon began wildly trying to claw its way out of the body it had possessed. But it was trapped and the human form seemed unaffected by the frenzied beast inside.
“You lied about the recording, didn’t you?”
The man didn’t answer and the beast continued its vain attempt to escape. Nodding, Katarina lowered the pistol, took another look at the evil inhabiting the man then reached out and firmly tapped his forehead with her index finger.
For several seconds, she stared in confusion when nothing happened, so she tapped again with more force.
“What are you doing?” the man asked, looking at her as if she were crazy.
Not answering, she raised the pistol and aimed at the red circle on his head where she’d been pressing the muzzl
e. But she couldn’t pull the trigger. Somehow, the thought of killing him and the beast inside in the same manner as Zophiel had not repulsed her. But pointing a firearm at someone’s head and pulling the trigger... killing them in cold blood... she couldn’t do it.
Twenty-Eight
“We’ve gotta get out of here!” Baldwin shouted as he charged to where she was standing. “FBI tactical team approaching!”
Katarina gave him a panicked look.
“How long?”
“Less than a minute,” he said, skidding to a stop on the smooth concrete and looking at the bound man. “What about him? Get what you needed?”
“He was lying.”
Without hesitating, Baldwin drew a pistol and fired a single shot into the Retriever’s head. Katarina gasped in surprise at the unexpected violence, then remembered to look for the demon but didn’t see any sign of the creature.
“Let’s go,” Baldwin said, running for his SUV.
“Wait! My fingerprints are all over the rental car!” Katarina cried.
Baldwin looked at the car, then scanned around the inside of the warehouse. The chance of forensic evidence that would lead the FBI directly to all of them was too great. Tearing a strip off the bottom of his shirt, he raced to the rental car and ripped the fuel cap off before stuffing the fabric deep inside. Sparking a lighter, he held it beneath the material until it burst into flames.
“GO, GO, GO!” he shouted.
He and Katarina leapt into the SUV and the tires smoked on the smooth floor as he accelerated deeper into the warehouse. Screeching to a stop at a door on the opposite side from where they’d entered, he waited as Katarina jumped out, shoved it open far enough for the vehicle to clear then closed it with a loud bang. Back inside, she was pressed into the seat as he floored the gas and shot across the parking lot. Turning onto a side street, he slowed to the speed limit in an effort to not draw any attention.
“How the fuck did they find us?” he snarled, making another turn to take them farther away from the warehouse.
“Rental cars have GPS trackers,” Katarina said. “The companies are very cooperative when the FBI calls asking for access to a specific vehicle’s location.”