The Vigiles Urbani Chronicles- Year One

by Ken Lange

  I walked around and plopped into my chair. “Yeah, the guestroom is always open to you.”

  He offered me a weak smile. “Thank you. I’m going to grab my things and then move my car. That way it isn’t so obvious you’ve got company.”

  “Sounds good.”

  He pivoted on the spot and headed through the door, leaving me to contemplate my past and my future. I opened my computer, attached the portable drive, and clicked through the documents.

  It didn’t take me long to grow tired of strolling down memory lane. While it was disturbing, it was my past, and if the Gotteskinder, or anyone else for that matter, expected to understand who I was through who I’d been, they were shit out of luck. The secret to my life thus far was that I’d found a way to adapt to each new encounter and grow through it. Long and short of the story, I was a survivor. No matter what, I would always find a way.

  Pulling myself out of my thoughts, I picked up my phone and texted Heather, asking her to call me. I’d no sooner laid my cell on the desk than it rang.

  “Hello.”

  Heather’s voice came across the line. “Hey…what’s going on?”

  Gritting my teeth, I frowned. “Ah…I may’ve overstepped myself earlier.”

  Amusement danced in her tone. “Oh?”

  Pressing my knuckles against the desk, I popped them. “Well—it would appear that Alexander and the others think we’re in danger and want Gabriel to stay at the house till we wrap things up…”

  She tsked. “You mean to say, they think you’re in danger.”

  I shrugged. “Either way, we have a house guest.”

  “That’s fine.” Snickering, she said, “Guess I need to stop by the store and pick up some groceries.”

  “Thanks. You’re the best.”

  She paused. “What are you going to do?”

  I leaned my forearms against the desk. “To be honest, I haven’t a clue. I’m hoping something will pop up that’ll give me a meaningful direction. Because at the moment, I’m dead in the water.”

  Doing her best to sound reassuring, she said, “I’m sure something will come up. Between Alexander tearing out the treasure room, Andrew working on the glyphs, and the half-dozen trackers looking for Duncan, something’s going to give.”

  “They’re tearing out the basement?”

  She made a meh sound. “Well, yeah. They’re trying to remove it in big chunks, but Alexander said he wants to make sure they don’t miss anything.”

  “Huh, I didn’t know. Maybe I’ll stop by there in a bit and see how they’re progressing.”

  Even though I couldn’t see it, I knew she was smiling. “Okay, but be home for dinner.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  When she ended the call, I got to my feet and was grabbing my bag on my way to the door when my phone rang again. Answering it, I asked, “Forget something?”

  Dean’s voice came across the line in a near whisper. “Not that I know about.”

  I stopped in my tracks. “Sorry, thought you were Heather. What’s going on?”

  Keeping his voice low, he said, “I was able to follow these guys back to a place on the river.”

  “Okay, do you think they’re with the Gotteskinder?”

  He grunted. “No idea, but they’re not your typical maintenance men.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “The van is full of electronics, and their warehouse is guarded by the military.”

  I turned to look at the box on my desk. “Well, fuck. Tell me where you are, and I’ll be there ASAP.”

  “I’ll text you.”

  A few seconds later, he sent the address along with several photos of the building, van, and personnel.

  I’d have to catch up with Alexander later; for now, this took priority. I didn’t bother telling Gabriel as he would’ve insisted on coming with. Truthfully, I wanted him here to make sure Heather and the house were safe while I was gone. There’d be plenty of time to deal with these assholes if it came to that.

  Ten minutes later, I was parked about a quarter mile from the warehouse. Dean was keeping a low profile, so it took a couple of texts, not to mention a good deal of sneaking about, to find him.

  He waved me over. “Hey, glad you’re here.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

  He pulled his phone out, tapped the screen, and handed it to me. “We’ve got a new arrival, and by the looks of things, he’s important.”

  My body went rigid and my blood ran cold. The man in the photo was my old base commander from Naples, who’d fired me last year. Why in the hell was this guy here, and why did he have me under surveillance? One thing was for sure, I was going to find out, and quickly.

  Handing the phone back to Dean, I shook my head. “That motherfucker.”

  He gave me a curious look. “I take it you know the guy.”

  I nodded. “You could say that. His name is Commander Clark Kevlin.” Glancing over at him, I said, “Get on the phone with Andrew, and tell him to call Lazarus. Things are about to get ugly with the US government.”

  He frowned. “Why?”

  I pointed over at the building. “I’m going to have a conversation with these bastards. If things go sideways, you’ll know right where I am.”

  He grabbed my arm and pulled me further down the wall. “Are you stupid? You can’t just go over there. He might shoot you.”

  I shook my head. “Doubt it. He hasn’t got the balls.”

  Dean shook his head. “This is a really bad idea.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, but having him in the middle of my business could be worse, considering what we’re dealing with right now.”

  “Fine.” He pulled out his phone. “Be smart and don’t step inside the building. We have no idea what’s inside.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  I pulled out my wallet and made my way down the street. There I presented my Interpol ID to the guard whose nametag read N. Bernard. “Hello, Bernard. Would you be so kind as to let Commander Kevlin know I’m here, and that I’d like to have a word with him?”

  Bernard’s lips twisted into a disgusted snarl. “Just what in the fuck does Interpol want with the commander?”

  I arched an eyebrow. “That’s none of your concern. What is, however, is just how much shit you’re going to be in if he finds out I was here and you didn’t tell him.”

  His gaze tracked up and down me as he shrugged. “Whatever.” He stepped back and tapped out a text before returning to his post. “There, I told someone you’re here. Let’s see if they think you’re important enough to disturb the commander.”

  It wasn’t long before Kevlin and six of his men came out of the warehouse and made their way over to the gate.

  He wore a sour expression when he stepped toward me. “Goddamn it, Randall. What in the fuck are you doing here?”

  I folded my arms. “I live here. What the hell is your excuse?”

  His cheeks burned crimson as anger flared in his eyes. “That’s none of your business, soldier.”

  The corners of my lips twitch downward. “Guess your man here forgot to tell you. I’m not with the government any longer. I’m the director of the Uncommon Crimes Department at Interpol.”

  The information caught him so off guard that he nearly stumbled back. “What? Since when?”

  Well, that was unexpected. “A week or so after coming home. Care to tell me why the US government is spying on me, or do I need to run this up the flagpole? Trust me, the latter option won’t turn out well for you.”

  He regained his composure. “I’m here to collect some data that was stolen.”

  I gestured for him to continue. “What type of data?”

  He frowned. “I was under orders to collect your file and have it shipped out, but before everything could be collected, someone took what we had.”

  I blinked. “What? Why?”

  He shrugged. “Above my paygrade. I figured they wanted to forget you ever existed. I know I do.”


  “Whose authority were you working under?”

  Shaking his head, he sighed. “He went by the name of Mr. Smith.”

  I furrowed my brow. “Really? That’s original.”

  He gave me a dismissive wave. “That may be, but with the amount of pull this guy’s got, I’m not questioning things. He had a clearance level I’ve never even heard of before. So, when the data went missing, he directed me to recover it, and ensure your safety at any cost.”

  I craned my neck from side to side. “If and when you hear from Mr. Smith again, tell him to get in touch. As for protecting me, I’ve got that covered.”

  He laughed. “You expect me to just walk away?”

  “Do whatever you want.” Pausing, I took a deep breath. “Does the package you’re looking for have a bunch of files, a portable drive, and disks in it?”

  Narrowing his eyes, he said, “It does.”

  “Great, tell Mr. Smith I have the package, and that if he has anything else he’d like to contribute, to give me a call.” I reached into my shirt pocket, pulled out my card, and handed it to him. “Now that everything’s settled, you can return to Italy.”

  He grimaced. “While I’d like nothing better, I’m under orders—”

  I held out my hand to stop him. “Then get new ones, and do it quickly.”

  Commander Kevlin stepped closer and jammed a finger into my chest. “I never made my feelings about you a secret, so you know that being here in the first place chaps my ass. But unlike you, I follow orders.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t care. Tell Mr. Smith what I told you. That should be enough to get you out of my city.”

  Chapter 10

  After Dean finished reading me the riot act, he sent me to my room to think about what I’d done. Which meant he’d asked me to go to Heather’s and not walk up to any more armed guards hoping they wouldn’t shoot me in the face.

  That was probably for the best, because the only thought in my mind was who this mysterious Mr. Smith was and how he fit into my life.

  Heavy footsteps thudded up the stairs. A moment later, Gabriel tapped on the open office door. “Hey, Heather’s home.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “If you want, I can step out for a bit while you two settle in for the afternoon.”

  I shook my head and checked my watch. “Absolutely not. You’re a guest, not a servant. Besides, it’s nearly lunch and I’m going to assume you’re hungry.”

  Patting his stomach, he grinned. “I am a bit peckish. Want me to see what I can find in the kitchen, or are you going to order out?”

  I got to my feet and let out a chuckle. “Wow, is it ever obvious that you’re young and single.”

  He furrowed his brow. “Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Shaking my head, I said, “Well, for starters, she’s been rather stressed lately with the whole her-house-might-be-cursed thing. Then I tell you it’s okay for you to stay here without consulting her first…so you might see how I’d like to let her decide what we’re going to eat.”

  Realization hit him. “Oh…ah…yeah. Good point.”

  Heather’s heels clicked against the wooden steps. When she topped the stairs, she walked over and wrapped Gabriel in a hug. “Good to see you.” She stepped back and put her hand on her hip. “What are you two talking about?”

  I smiled. “Food. Any ideas?”

  She glanced up at Gabriel and then over at me. “Pizza? And after that, one of you needs to hit the grocery store to pick up some supplies since I didn’t have a chance to do it on my way home.” Gesturing at me, she grinned. “He eats like a horse, and the pantry is practically empty. There’s a list on the door there to ensure you get the essentials.”

  I chuckled. “We’ll get the shopping done this afternoon.” My stomach growled, and I patted it. “But I’m thinking we should place that order.”

  Heather grinned. “Probably a good idea.” Her gaze landed on the corner of the desk. Pointing at the box, she asked, “What’s that?”

  Gabriel winced and took a step toward the stairs. “Tell you what, let me order the pizza. That’ll give the two of you a chance to talk.”

  Well, that was supportive. Okay, so I know self-preservation is the strongest instinct, but you’d think with the speech he’d given me earlier about keeping me alive, he would’ve thrown me a lifeline.

  I waved and guided Heather into the office. “Funny you should ask. Have a seat, and we’ll talk about it.”

  Her voice constricted. “Is it something about my grandfather?”

  Doh. I’d been so self-absorbed I hadn’t even considered her thinking it was about Henri.

  “No, no…sorry. It’s my stuff…well, my past in particular.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  I sighed. “You’re about to.” Gesturing at the seat in front of the desk, I sat in the one next to her. “This was a conversation I was hoping we wouldn’t have to have, but since someone’s started digging, it’s become necessary.”

  Up till now, I’d brushed over my past in broad strokes, but with the arrival of the box, it was time to put it all on display. Even with the provided documents, photos, and digital files, it took me the better part of an hour to explain the job I’d done for twenty-eight years.

  When I was finished, she was quiet for a long time. Finally, she looked up at me. “Let me get this straight. According to this Commander Kevlin, he was ordered to gather up a bunch of information about you then spy on our home. Is that right?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. It would seem that the same man who gave Kevlin his instructions had a hand in my termination as well.”

  She frowned. “That’d be the Mr. Smith you referred to earlier?”

  I grimaced. “Correct. All things considered, I should be grateful to the guy. It was under his authority that they cut me loose instead of lobotomizing me with a high-caliber bullet…but I’m struggling with it.”

  Heather reached out for the box and pulled it to her. “You found that in here?”

  Frowning, I said, “Yeah.” I picked up a set of papers and showed her the email that had saved my life. “These are the orders that were handed down.”

  She nodded and put the papers into the box. “Okay, I’m going to need all of this and anything else that came with it.”

  My throat constricted, and it was hard to catch my breath. “Wait, what? Why?”

  Her jaw tightened. “I want to know just how involved this Mr. Smith is in your life. If I were to hazard a guess, he’s been pretty influential when it’s come to you, whether you know it or not.”

  My heart continued to race at the thought of losing control of the contents. “What makes you think that?”

  She put her hand on my arm. “Think about it. Mr. Smith sent you home at the very time you needed to be here.”

  I shook my head. “He had no way of knowing I’d choose to come to New Orleans and not Montana.”

  Heather rolled her eyes. “Please, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you’d never return to Montana unless it was absolutely necessary. Andrew was the only choice…and before you say there’s no way he could’ve guessed you’d visit Andrew, you’re wrong. You were set adrift, and you’re a man who likes an anchor. Your previous employment acted as such until it was unceremoniously severed, so the next logical choice was to visit the only living family you didn’t hate. While there was a chance you could’ve done something else, it was highly unlikely.”

  As much as I hated to admit it, she did have a point. “Okay, but what are you going to do with that stuff?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I’m going to use it to track this guy down and find out what he has in mind for you.” She leaned back in her seat. “He’d better hope I approve, otherwise—”

  “But—”

  She gave me a sad smile. “If you’re worried about what I’ll think of you after this, don’t.” Before I could raise a counterargument, she continued, “I’m quite familiar with the type of m
an you are. From what I can see here, and what I know personally, you’ve always tried to do the right thing. Granted, it’s been messy…both your past and your present. But you should know by now that I’m in this for the long haul. If I wasn’t, I’d have every reason to be gone by now.”

  Memories of the dead rolled through my mind. “You say that, but you haven’t seen everything that’s in there.”

  She shook her head. “What am I going to find? You told me about the souls you absorbed during your encounter with Walter. I know you were captured and tortured for one hundred and thirteen days. I know you’ve survived things you shouldn’t have, and that people have died at your hands.” She held up the box. “These are merely details. What’s important is this Mr. Smith.”

  I let out a long breath. “What makes you think the key to finding him’s in there?”

  She shrugged. “Just the familiarity with which he wrote the note. I’m betting he’s popped up in other places. Let me do this while you handle Duncan and the Gotteskinder.”

  I looked over at her. “Do I have a choice in the matter?”

  She grinned. “No, you don’t.”

  I got to my feet and gestured at the door. “Fine, let’s go see if the food’s here yet.”

  Heather put the box under her arm. “I’ll put this away and be right down.”

  That was my cue to go, and while I wasn’t keen on this idea, that she hadn’t tossed me out of the house was reason enough to trust her. “Okay, see you in a few.”

  I made my way to the kitchen where Gabriel was placing four boxes on the bar near the table.

  He turned to me with a grim expression. “Everything all right?”

  I shrugged. “Hope so.” Gesturing at the food, I asked, “What’d we get?”

  He waved a big hand at the boxes. “A margherita, hot soppressata, a cheese, and a pepperoni.”

  My stomach turned at the last two. “Just so we’re clear: good, good, grease slick, and an abomination.”

  Gabriel grinned. “Never tried this place, so maybe. Then again, it’s supposed to be decent.” He scratched the back of his head. “Since I didn’t know what she liked, I gambled.”