She debated whether she should resign and let another law firm take the case for the Beijing Jīn Róng Group. She was conscious of her reason for taking the case. She wanted Walker to talk and tell her why he didn’t contact her in the States, let alone, Atlanta, where they’d lived together. It was her personal agenda, just like McNally suggested.
Either she could back out of the case or expand her influence. Not being one to back down from anything, her goal was to make influential friends, and her sometimes date, the executive from a premier studio, would be ripe with contacts, as were her political contacts. They may be able to make Walker run and hide, but it wouldn’t work with her. You just wait and see. Thinking of Walker, she realized their son was the most important person in her life, and she intended to find out Walker’s story.
After her triumphant thinking, she wondered if working on the case brought unwanted attention and they’d started killing those closest to Walker. If the CIA or their outsourced killers were responsible for Isabella’s death, was she next in line?
If they wanted Walker’s nose planted in the agency’s business, killing Isabella wasn’t the answer. Walker was a protector, and for whatever reason, Isabella was important to him. Knowing him, he’d rebuke their authority and get answers himself.
She wondered if taking the case for Su Geming of the Jīn Róng Group contributed to the CIA’s plan to keep Walker away from her. Yet, she’d not heard from him in over a year, before taking the case. With their clandestine ops, she’d not be surprised if they put out a hit on Isabella, making them no better than her client—terrorists on the homeland.
The case was moving slowly, and her investigator was having difficulty getting the information needed from her client and the US government. McNally was right; it would be a costly trial and one she should consider dropping. She wondered what the backlash would be from her client. It was worth discussing the options with her director of operations.
Jenkins, her PI, delivered some unsettling news regarding the case. He was visibly shaken and pacing the floor as he reported his findings. She was in a catch-22, and had no idea how to untangle the mess. The CIA wanted her off, and the Chinese mafia wanted her on the case. She felt like she was caught between the crosshairs on a target and didn’t know which one would pull the trigger first.
Discussions with her director of operations weighed heavily on her future actions. There were options; she could retreat from the case. The firm would make a partial refund of the upfront fees collected from Beijing Jīn Róng Group with her apologies. Her communications manager would release a statement about her small law firm quitting the trial and wishing the client the best.
Sydney didn’t think it would be over if she withdrew from the case, and she knew she wouldn’t breathe a sigh of relief until then. A black cloud was hovering over her head either way, and she suspected Walker was feeling the same way.
Walker had a plan for payback for those responsible for Isabella’s death and infiltrating his life and killing at will. Now, Sydney and perhaps her son were at risk if he didn’t play by their rules.
He’d managed to have the remains of a male body incinerated in a car crash identified as him. A comrade using an alias managed the crisis. The CIA was off his tracks for now. How long? He wouldn’t know until his plan played out.
His comrade owed him after entering Sydney’s townhome, showering, and changing into his clothes. Although he thought Walker would be there, since it was his last known address, he should have called first. He knew the code, and no answer meant stay away; a reminder of rapid changes when in the trenches of the CIA. And, unlike Sydney in the past, she allowed him to walk out; a bullet between his eyes would have been his call.
He’d carefully devised his plan for when he and Isabella could escape. Now, he had no choice. She was dead, and he was probably targeted next for a bullet between the eyes.
To make the outcome in his favor against the CIA, he intended to have a makeover and Australia, his hideaway, had surpassed the US in plastic surgery procedures the past year. When he awoke from the procedure, he wanted no one to recognize him and no fingerprints to mark him. He had a laryngoplasty, a procedure designed to transform the voice box (larynx) to change the sound of his voice, and skin lightening. He had to admit, his new, deeper bass voice was a match for his bulky, towering body.
He’d already said goodbye to his friend so he couldn’t describe him, in case someone inquired. He was going by a new name, James Godwin—Jim to friends—he decided. He had new identification documents and passport printed from a source his friend had mentioned in passing. He was ready to begin his trace on the person/s responsible for Isabella’s murder and possibly Sydney’s, if she won her case, and Su Geming and his technology company went free.
He’d stashed some cash over the years by living onsite with his clients. His new plan would put him back in Atlanta, where he’d lease a car and become an Uber driver. He could find a low-rent apartment and fit in while he stayed abreast of Sydney’s defense of Su Geming and track leads to Isabella’s murderer.
He had an untraceable cell phone with him, but he used it only for emergencies. He wanted to plan Isabella’s burial, but couldn’t. He didn’t trust the device couldn’t be traced, and he wasn’t taking chances. The CIA was probably hoping he’d call the morgue to trace his whereabouts. Until he dealt with the killer responsible for Isabella’s death, he’d sit tight and collect her remains for burial later, when it was safe.
He watched the six o’clock news on the small TV in his extended stay hotel. There on the screen was Sydney, coming from the courthouse where the proceedings had begun in Su Geming’s case. He hoped they’d keep the camera lens aimed at her and not break to a commercial. The rogue contractor he’d identified working with the CIA wouldn’t miss a chance to pop her if he could.
He’d found the CIA’s assassin hired to kill Isabella. Going by the name Raff, he moved around abroad, with short stints in the States serving the top bidder as he plied his trade, mostly for clandestine agencies.
Sydney heard the news on TV about Walker’s death. What was he doing on Hwy 575 in North Georgia? Tracing a lead concerning Isabella’s death, she’d bet. Now, she’d never have closure about what happened between them.
Frustrated and hurt, she focused her attention on the legal case staring her in the face—Su Geming and the Beijing Jīn Róng Group. She pulled out all the stops to get her client found not guilty, but at every twist and turn was shot down. Her goal was to provide a defense and let the court decide the verdict.
She was convinced the government had information she wasn’t privy to. The Atlanta Federal Bureau of Investigation oversaw the discovery presented in court. She suspected the CIA had influence in the case, as they were now mandated to cover acts of terrorism on the homeland as well as abroad. She wondered how much Walker had known about the case, but it was too late now.
Sydney lost the case, and was relieved to have it behind her. She’d provided Su Geming his best defense, given the players involved. Now, the Chinese government had stepped in and demanded Su Geming’s return to China. The United States government was fighting their extradition. She planned a vacation to wash the slime from her mind. The president of Beijing Jīn Róng Group, Geming, could find a new attorney if circumstances led to another trial. She was done.
Walker had supplied information leading to the arrest of the president of Beijing Jīn Róng Group and knew the ties to the Black Societies. There was no way Sydney could win this case and her clients were unmerciful, much like the CIA.
He decided to keep an eye on any further proceedings while taking care of the hit man responsible for Isabella’s death. It wasn’t difficult finding him, for doing a hit for the CIA was something to brag about at the slimy haunts he frequented with others in his trade.
Saddling up to the bar, he listened to enough of the conversation to know the loud
ex-military-looking loafer sitting at the end of the bar killed Isabella. As he bragged about her pleading for mercy before he strangled and pushed her into a watery grave, it took all he could do to not squeeze his thick neck until his eyeballs popped out of their sockets.
Distancing himself from her killer was the smart thing to do before he murdered him in front of eyewitnesses. He went to the bathroom and noticed the work wanted bulletins on the wall with slips of paper with phone numbers attached. Walker remembered the nickname and handle Raff was called, and looked through the notices until he found his. Then he went to his bar stool and chugged his beer and left, hoping no one was the wiser.
On pins and needles, Walker waited almost 24 hours before making the call so there’d be no connection to him from the bar. When he answered, Raff’s upbeat voice fueled Walker’s desire to see him dead. He told him the job and the discreet location to carry out the hit and asked where to drop off the cash. He told him.
Walker dropped off the manila envelope with the cash to a locker at the bus terminal and waited to see him collect it before driving to the location. He followed him several car lengths behind until he could take a back road to their meeting place.
Military-trained to know the terrain, Raff would check out the location in advance to be certain he could carry out the hit and get out. Walker positioned himself to see his arrival from his hiding place. He waited for him to get out of his older model flatbed truck and look around. His finger rested on the trigger until he was within sight for the perfect kill. He applied pressure, fired, and watched the bullet hit its mark. The velocity of the impact sent Isabella’s killer headfirst over the bluff he was looking over down into the lake. He doubted there’d be much investigation into his death after they pulled his record. Probable payback would be the initial response; that is, when his body floated to the surface, hopefully unrecognizable.
One down and one to go until he found who was behind Isabella’s murder; and most likely his, if he hung around as the CIA intended. He was taking a much-needed break to Barbados to investigate a new place to hang out. Pirates had made their home along the Caribbean coast. The location might be a haven for him as well.
He still had business in Beijing to get a handle on the terrorist case he was familiar with and Sydney had involved herself in. He’d have to be careful about engagements; he didn’t want to compromise his new identity. He’d stay clear of former informants and eavesdrop on conversations directed to the ringleader. He had less chance being caught there than in the States, where the CIA had taps.
He made the trip quick—his favorite mode of operation. When he got what he came after, he boarded the next flight to his new home in Barbados. Win or lose, the Chinese government was backing extradition home for the company official involved in terrorism. Sydney’s case would become political and if she knew what was good for her—she’d quit.
Sydney, her son, and Nanny Daniela from Barbados had arrived at the Sandy Resort. She was ready for a Caribbean holiday, and Daniela deserved a break and time to visit her family. Being away from her busy law firm was overdue to gather her thoughts about future cases she’d represent.
She’d gotten involved with the Chinese technology company for the wrong reasons. And now with Walker dead, she’d never know the truth about what happened between them. She was hoping the vacation would give her a chance to come to terms with his death and put the past behind her.
She laid on the pristine white, sandy beach and watched the waves ebb and flow against the shore while her son played with his sand bucket and beach toys. She’d given Daniela some time off to explore the island and see old friends and family. She’d grown up in Bridgetown, “the city,” the neighboring parish of St. Michael, and hadn’t returned until now.
Later she and her son, David, would return to their condo after enjoying the sun and cool trade breeze for a while. She decided to help him build a sandcastle and got up to stoop down beside him. When she did, she saw a man with a familiar gait walking along the shore. She did a double take when realizing who he reminded her of—Walker. This man’s skin tone and overall look made her realize it wasn’t him. She had to get him off her mind.
Walker saw Sydney and her son playing in the sand. He wondered why she came to the island, now his home. He was reminded of what his granny said about kindred spirits, entering and leaving your life until the perfect reunion. He wondered if that was the case now.
He knew he’d never return to Atlanta and her, for it would be too easy for the CIA to figure out his disguise and he’d be back in their clutches—or dead. But for now, he could get a closer look at the toddler to see if he had familiar traits. He was pretty sure the child was his, right down to his once jet-black, curly head full of hair and dimpled chin.
On his way home, he took a detour through Bridgetown to meet a new acquaintance. He saw Daniela walking through the city and stopped to greet her. He asked, “You work for Sydney Jones, don’t you?”
She lifted her eyes to his and said, “Yes, I do. I take care of her son.”
“Good,” he said. “I saw her on the morning news about the Chinese technologies case. You might want to tell her to be cautious dealing with those people.”
Startled that he knew about Sydney’s cases and had connected her she replied, “Who should I say is concerned for her safety?”
“Just an innocent bystander that would hate to see her get hurt.”
She recognized he wouldn’t be forthcoming with his name as he nodded and walked away.
She sped up her pace on Broad Street to hail a minivan back to the condo to tell Sydney what happened.
Daniela was out of breath when she entered the condo. Sydney took one look at her wide-open eyes and realized there was a problem.
“What’s wrong, Daniela?”
“A man stopped me on the street and said to warn you about dealing with the Chinese technologies company.”
“Who was he?”
“I don’t know. But he knew your law firm was representing the Chinese company.”
“What did he say?”
“Just to be careful dealing with them.”
“That’s all?”
“No, when I asked who the message was from, he said someone that didn’t want to see you hurt. Then he walked away.”
“Don’t worry, Daniela. I’m through representing the Chinese company. The case was over before we left Atlanta.”
“Good, I was worried we were in danger.”
“No, don’t be. We’re safe.”
Sydney’s thoughts went quickly to the weapons she’d packed for the trip and decided to arm herself with a small pistol and blade when they went out. Maybe she should have brought someone from her security staff with her, but she’d wanted a carefree vacation with her son.
Her office manager called to update her about the firm’s cases and messages and to wish her an enjoyable vacation. She’d email her messages so she could read them at her leisure, for nothing was pressing.
Sydney was pleased her staff was on schedule with their work and she’d reward the top producers when she returned. She’d hired a corporate attorney to draw up the paperwork for a new corporate structure for taking on partners.
Her CFO was preparing a financial statement with the income and expenses associated with each attorney’s cases, noting the ones the firm represented from their personal referral. Attorneys who were bringing in business and successfully handling it would be rewarded. She’d already lost an excellent lawyer from not having a career ladder at the firm. This wouldn’t happen again with the incentives she planned to announce.
She quickly looked over the messages emailed to her from the office. The Chinese technology company wanted a meeting with her to discuss representing them in the future. She’d not waste her or their time. She was done. She’d write the message personally to make sure there’d be no more
inquiries about her services.
The man Daniela encountered most likely knew she’d be contacted. She wondered who he was to know her business. Yet, anyone watching the news could have an opinion they’d like to share about her defending a terrorist organization. But recognizing her nanny to deliver a message was creepy. She’d already made up her mind before their vacation to distance herself from her former client. With Walker dead, her reasons for representing them were no longer important. She’d never get a chance to talk with Walker now or know his involvement in the case.
She encouraged Daniela to enjoy the rest of her vacation with her family and not worry about their safety. She’d been good with David and deserved a break.
Daniela was reluctant at first until Sydney told her she was always armed and ready to defend herself and family, including her. After thinking about it for a minute, Daniela agreed.
She’d heard rumors about Sydney, but they were too bizarre to believe. A woman that dangerous wouldn’t have the thriving law practice she did—or would she? No one would cross her and live to tell about it. Daniela did as she suggested and went to her family’s home for the remainder of her vacation. They didn’t meet again until boarding the plane for Atlanta.
Sydney was glowing from the rest and enjoying David at the beach. She hoped Daniela enjoyed her vacation too, for things were crazy-busy at the office, meaning she’d be working longer hours for her son to be in her care. She’d made plans for daytrips for them around town, hoping for fun and educational opportunities for both her son and Daniela.
At a distance, with their skin coloring, you’d think they were related, perhaps even mother and son. Instead of feeling jealous, she was glad, for it added to their safety. Unless someone had their photos and was specifically looking for them, they’d fit in with the crowd.
Chance Page 9