by L. T. Ryan
Not the best night of sleep ever.
But not the worst.
He powered on the phone. The battery was low at thirteen percent, and he had to conserve. There were ten new messages. The coordinates. An adjustment to the coordinates. Not much, but a little. Then a series of concerning messages.
“bro, what happened tonight? just heard about Bear. HMU”
“where you at? what’s the deal with Logan. can’t get anything from my channels.”
“finally heard. JAYESUS! what a mess. sounds like he’ll be OK.”
“hearing they’re hooking your boy up!”
“whoa, what did you do man?”
“you’re hot right now. REALLY HOT. i’m switching servers again, hold tight.”
“back. you need assistance? interference? let me know.”
If he could have one friend and one friend only right now, he was glad it was Brandon. Jack carefully typed out a message detailing his situation. Then sent one more.
“Bank opens at 8. Make sure something is happening to pull every law enforcement official away from here.”
He left the phone on and hid it inside his boot. Uncomfortable? Yes. His only lifeline should something happen? Also yes.
Chapter 47
Jack ditched the blaze orange hat and opted for a pair of sunglasses he found on the ground. The frames were large, but black, and less likely to draw attention. He did his best to clean them, wiping off the dirt and grime. They had a purposeful life of a minute, at most. The time it would take to walk into the bank and walk down the corridor with the glass ceiling. He’d reach the security panel, punch in his twelve-digit code, and access his box, which required another code made entirely of twelve words.
The scene played out several times. He visualized each step in detail so they would appear natural enough no one would pay attention.
He walked around the block a couple of times, sticking to the shadows and dipping his head when encountering a possible camera. After resolving this situation, he planned on having a long talk with Clive and Clive’s best digital forensics experts. He needed tips. Couldn’t take five steps without it being recorded anymore.
After the second lap, Jack returned to the bank where an open door welcomed him in. A burst of air drove down from above the threshold. The temperature balance had been perfected in the lobby, matching the brisk morning.
Jack tucked his chin to his chest and turned left after pushing through a thick bulletproof glass door. Sharp rays of sunlight penetrated the glass ceiling. Rainbows were cast throughout the hall. It was warmer here. Sweat formed on Noble’s forehead.
He reached the second security panel. The green light above the door meant the room was available. He punched in his twelve-digit code and counted the seven locks unlatching separately. The cell phone buzzed in his boot as the door opened. He ignored it. Pushed aside the thought Brandon was warning him of danger. Plenty of time after he emptied his deposit box to face whatever situation presented itself.
Then he remembered he had powered the phone down. All he felt were phantom alerts.
“Get it together,” he muttered.
The door shut on its own, sucking a little air out of the room. After a few seconds of working his jaw, the pressure in Noble’s ear stabilized. A green button next to the door would need to be pushed to unlock it when it came time to exit.
He grabbed the device on the table and located his box. A cord dangled from the device. He inserted it into the USB slot on his box. A series of numbers and letters in random order appeared on the screen. He went through his twelve-word passcode, retelling himself the story he had created from them.
The small square door unlatched and opened an inch. He unplugged the device and set it back on the table before retrieving the shoebox like container holding his belongings. The Glock 19 would only be useful for the trip from the bank to the airport. Since he didn’t count on being in Bern again, he decided to take it with him.
He set the pistol aside and retrieved the documents. The Canadian passport, driver’s license, and government employee ID were cleaner than a newborn’s birth certificate. Never been used. Mint in the box. There was enough cash in Euro, GPB, USD, and CAD to last him up to a week. He could always get more with the included ATM card and banking info. Forged family photos inside the wallet and on the iPhone, along with a list of contacts, completed the legend.
He pocketed everything, including the Glock, and returned the container to the box. After closing it up, he pushed the green button next to the steel door and waited for it to pop open an inch. The rush of air through the crack washed over the room and filled it with the smell of pastries.
A woman wearing blue pants and white top waited in the hallway, holding a plate. She smiled as Jack stepped past her on his way to the front door. He felt her eyes bore into him; resisted the urge to look back. Every step took ten times longer than it should have until the vault door clicked and opened and fell shut again.
He exhaled and picked up his pace. The bank was livelier now, patrons roaming about the lobby waiting for tellers and bankers to service them. One obstacle stood in the way of a clean exit. A security guard old enough to be Jack’s father. That didn’t matter, though. He knew plenty of old men who could whoop his ass.
Noble remained steady, nodded at the man, exited the bank into sharp sunlight. The view obscured, he wasn’t sure what waited across the street. Traffic buzzed past. People walked in herds. He shuffled into the middle of a group and went back the way he had come.
“Sir,” a woman called out from behind him.
Jack paid it no mind. There were plenty of sirs around. No need to draw unwanted attention. He pushed on while keeping distance from the person in front of him.
“Sir.” Same woman. Closer. A hand on his shoulder. He turned his head and saw her, the woman from the bank. “You left this.” She held up a stack of Canadian dollars.
“Might have trouble getting coffee when I land in Montreal, eh?” His lips twitched into his most disarming smile. Reserved for mothers of women he’d dated. It worked out here in the wild, too.
She returned the smile, handed him the money, hurried back to the bank.
Jack stood off on the side and watched her go. The crowd had thinned. Less cover available. He moved to reenter the stream when the security guard caught his eye. He stopped the woman, presumably to ask her what had happened. Was this protocol? Someone with a safe deposit box tied to a numbered account leaves a little cash so they have to investigate it?
The security guard had his phone to his face and his eyes on Jack. Not good.
Noble pushed through the crowd and stepped out in front of an approaching vehicle. He jogged forward, but not before the driver honked. An alley stood a short distance ahead. Where would it lead? It hadn’t been on any of the routes he had walked earlier.
Sirens piped in and grew louder with every passing second. Every single footstep. The alley cut through to the next street, but the cops would be there soon. He needed another route. And he spotted it.
After making the turn, he sprinted to the ladder that extended four stories to the rooftop. It banged against the wall with every rung he climbed. The sirens stopped maybe a half-block away. The security guard would be talking to the cops. Giving a description. Telling them Noble turned down the alley. They’d race over, block the exit with their patrol car.
The door on the nearest balcony was wide open. Jazz streamed into the air. A sign? Perhaps, but there was still six feet of distance from the ladder to the patio. Noble climbed about that much higher and repositioned himself so his right hip pressed against the ladder.
The sirens blared. The cruiser gunned its engine.
Noble leapt.
The landing made more noise than the ladder slamming against the building. The patio shook; felt like it might pull away from the building. An older man wearing a towel and holding a bowl of fruit in one hand and a banana in the other stood with his mouth open, star
ing at the intruder outside of his apartment.
Jack stepped inside. “Sorry, I’ll be out of your hair in a moment.”
The man started going off. He dropped his fruit, and his towel. Held onto the banana. Jack held up a hand to block the view as he walked past. The other guy got aggressive and reached out for Noble. Jack’s shirt tugged away from his body. He couldn’t move forward.
Noble had no intention of hurting this man, but the older guy threatened to punch. Jack had his hand ready to deflect should the man try something so stupid.
“You’re gonna need to let me go.”
“Get outta my apartment.”
“Brother, I’m trying.”
The man tried to pull him close. Jack gave up the nice guy act and pulled the Glock from his pants. His shirt freed immediately. His host backed away, hands up.
Jack reached down and tossed the guy the towel. “Cover yourself up. The cops might be coming over.”
He exited to the hallway. The unit was smack dab in the middle of a building with no elevator, not that he’d use it. Heading right would lead to a stairwell exiting out to the same street he had been on. Left would get him one block over. His plan to climb the ladder made less sense than when he hovered twenty feet above ground. But he had an idea.
He sprinted left, busted through the door, and took the stairs up two flights until he reached the rooftop. The building across the alley blocked his view of the bank. The building on the opposite side was four stories higher. Noble realized how horrible the plan was. Making things worse, he had trapped himself atop the roof of the building of the apartment he had broken into.
The door was open…
He powered on his phone and was disappointed to see that Brandon hadn’t replied that he had set up a diversion. Jack sent a message to Brandon; told him to make a flight reservation from the nearest airport to the location of Bear’s phone. He shut the phone down and it hit him. After he’d gotten the guy off him, the man’s hair looked off. It had moved. The guy wore a wig.
Jack sprinted back down the stairs and paused at the doorway. He listened for sounds of activity in the hallway. Quiet. He eased the door open and checked. Clear.
Ten seconds later he was back in the man’s apartment, Glock out, telling him to turn over his wig. The guy had underwear on now. His large belly hung over and covered most of his groin.
It took a little convincing in the form of two thousand euros to get the guy to part with his hair, a pair of reading glasses, and a beige cardigan sweater. The man told Noble they looked like brothers after he donned the disguise. Jack disagreed. Turned out to be a nice guy. Gave Noble a cup of coffee in a to-go cup. Even offered to call Jack a cab. Noble declined. He had already disconnected the guy’s phone and hid the cord.
He did however accept a phone charger with hopes he could use it on his flight across France.
Chapter 48
The disguise got Noble past police on the street. His cab driver thought he was an old guy. Jack shed it in a bathroom at the airport. He checked in and printed his boarding pass at a kiosk. Security was a breeze. Even if they had footage of him, it wouldn’t be quality, not with the way he shielded his face. And once he was in the air, chances of repercussions were slim.
And it wasn’t as though he’d done something wrong. The situation arose from his own paranoia more than anything else. Perhaps the security guard didn’t like the way he looked. The bank could have a policy to question anyone who leaves something behind. The cops a coincidence. Could’ve been Brandon’s doing. No one knew him there. He had only visited one time in recent years to update the passport.
The plane landed in Lille, France, five minutes past two o’clock. The afternoon sun stood high. The blacktop roasted with the heat rising off and distorting the view beyond.
Jack made his way through the airport. Each step pinched another nerve. Every face carried a hint of danger. He’d made it this close to finding the phone. To be stopped here would be the proverbial dagger in the heart.
The last ping had been from a small village forty miles to the south. He had coordinates; needed something to punch them into. Using the credit card registered to his alias, he purchased a new SIM card for the iPhone. It connected to the network after the device restarted.
He downloaded a GPS app and put in the coordinates. The motorway would carry him most of the trip. What would the signal be like farther from town? He screenshot the location, then punched it into the map’s app while waiting in line at the car rental kiosk.
An Audi A6 wagon was available. It fit him perfectly and provided the kind of camouflage he needed. Stick to the speed limit, and he’d make it down with little trouble.
Twenty minutes later, he pulled off the highway and powered on the other cell phone for the first time since Switzerland. A power outlet had been available on the plane. The phone now had a full battery. Five messages rolled in.
“on the move again”
“Bear’s phone. Clarissa’s is still offline. working another method to find it”
“still moving”
“stopped. stand by”
“this might be it”
Jack sighed after reading the last message. In some ways, he felt relieved. The phone being stuck for so long in a remote location led him to fear he might find a body, one he wouldn’t want to discover, at the location. Not that it being on the move meant she was OK.
He started typing out a message when the three-dot indicator starting bouncing. Brandon had something new.
“nice move on the A6”
Jack replied, “Thanks,” then, “What’s the update?”
Brandon sent new coordinates. Jack punched them into the GPS app on his phone, got an address, put that into the iPhone.
“Want this new number?” He paused before hitting send. If someone or some organization watched over Brandon, Jack would broadcast his location to all of them the moment Brandon reached out. He held his finger over the delete button. Hit send instead.
“not necessary. yet. keep powering the other one on every five minutes for updates”
Back on the highway, he noted his new route would take twenty minutes longer. She hadn’t gone far. Could be a good sign. Or a bad one. He was fine either way. There’d be no way to procure a handgun along the route, though. He felt naked. If the situation dictated the use of force, he’d have to get close, and if the other person was prepared, it would get ugly.
He moved into the right lane and activated the adaptive cruise control before powering on the phone. There were two new messages.
“had someone check on your boy…your large man friend habahabaha. successful surgery. watching him like a hawk. no one knows who my guy is but he’s in a position no one will question him being around”
Following that was, “we are still good on the location so keep rolling on bro”
He powered it off again and checked the iPhone Messages app. Why? No one had the number, so if something showed up, he would know to alter plans. Brandon didn’t often get cozy and cordial in his transmissions. Not through that channel. Perhaps he missed Noble that much he had to throw some gossip in?
Jack continued to check for new messages at five-minute intervals. Temptation to leave the phone on hit hard. Wrong choice, and he knew it. That would set a continuous beacon anyone could follow. He’d learned to never doubt Clive and his team. Hell, he half-expected Sadie to be holding Bear’s phone when he found it. And it wasn’t only them he had to worry about. Someone had bested Clive at his own game. Multiple times.
His thoughts drifted back to Sadie. Noble did not look forward to the fury he would face when she caught up with him. She’d understand. Eventually. If he was lucky. Hell, she could whip his ass and leave him for dead, and he’d consider himself lucky because that meant he survived this leg of the journey.
He still had one more stop to go but couldn’t risk even telling Brandon his hunch.
As he closed in on the location, Jack exited the
highway and pulled into a gas station. He filled up, went inside, found the automotive section. The shelves were stocked with all manner of items. He grabbed a utility knife. Best he could do without going into a big box store that would have cameras everywhere.
Clive’s team had abilities beyond what most people had seen in any movie or TV show. Rumors. And shaved head or not, Clive had enough footage of Jack he could map his face and upload it to software running an algorithm that scanned CCTV footage around the world, looking to match Noble’s face with one on a camera. Could there be false positives? Sure. And they’d determine that with a manual review. He had to avoid that manual review.
Thinking about it made his head hurt. So, he stopped worrying.
He slid into the Audi. Turned up the AC. Turned up the music. Rolling Stones.
Five miles to go. Five miles to find her. He closed his eyes, listened to the lyrics.
“You’re right, Mic.” He hummed the tune to “You Can’t Always Get What You Want,” and smiled. “I always get what I need.”
Chapter 49
Before cutting the engine and halting the steady stream of cool air hitting him in the face, Noble checked the phone one last time for messages. Brandon hadn’t sent anything new. They were in business.
The GPS app showed the phone a half-mile down the road, a quarter-mile off it. He stuck to the street for part of the trip, then opted for the cover of the woods.
The neon green canopy of fresh leaves afforded protection from the sun. The temperature dropped ten degrees under their cover. It felt cool, refreshing.
The clearing came into view along with the exterior of the wooden house set in the middle of it. A minivan parked in front of a detached garage. A swing set off to the side. Blinds all drawn. Nothing moved, not even the tall decorative grasses lining the driveway.