“To answer your question, Mr. Stone, I consider myself an independent contractor. A consultant, if you will,” Travis said.
“What’s your background?” Chance asked.
Travis smiled. “We share a similar background, Detective. I spent quite a few years in the eighties as a vice detective in Miami.”
“Yeah, you probably ran around dressed like Sonny Crockett,” Chance said. “But what have you been doing after that?”
“I like to think I inspired that aesthetic,” Travis said, straightening his shirt and brushing the imaginary dust from his shoulders.
“That doesn’t explain all of this,” John said, gesturing around the room.
Travis folded his arms, leaning back in his chair as he looked around. “I’ve had a somewhat storied career, you could say. Had a couple of run-ins with the Russians, which led me to a few CIA connections. From there, I did a little work with them on and off throughout the nineties. After nine-eleven, they tapped me as one of the many people to set up the Department of Homeland Security.”
“Storied indeed,” Chance said. “Are we buying all of this? He’s like the Forrest Gump of law enforcement.”
“I’m terrible at ping pong, but I did get to shake the President’s hand,” Travis said.
John leaned against the wall, arms folded over his barrel chest, and chin tucked as he stared at Travis from under his brows. “We don’t have much choice,” he said. “If Chambers is the one that turned us on to Roland, then it sounds like we’ve all got a vested interest in seeing the CARR Group fall.”
* * *
Chicago, Illinois
“Sir, it’s Captain Hawke,” Faust’s assistant said, passing the phone to the back seat.
Faust grabbed the phone and gave her a nod to raise the privacy screen. “What’s the status on your task, Captain?”
“Asset secured,” Hawke said. “But there were some complications.”
Faust furrowed a brow. “Complications? I sent you to pick up one of your own guys and escort him to me.”
“We’ve got Mr. Blythe. But we met some resistance.” Hawke said.
“Well, fill me in,” Faust said, losing his cool. “Did a couple of mouthy suits ruffle your feathers?”
“Roland Forrester brought a couple of friends with him.”
Faust sat up in his seat. “Forrester was there? Did you kill him?”
“No. Detective Hunter helped him escape. More importantly, the other man was John Stone,” Hawke said.
“Is that name suppose to mean something to me?” Faust asked.
“For a man in your position, I imagine he would mean a lot to you. He’s the one responsible for killing Pryce Windham,” Hawke said.
“That was Marvin Van Pierce,” Faust said.
“It was Van Pierce’s team, the Hostile Response Division, but Stone was directly responsible for much of the damage that group has caused to our associates.”
“I’m really not sure how that is relevant—”
“He killed almost a dozen of your men, Kingston,” Hawke spat, his voice a low growl. “You should have done your due diligence, and provided me with the intel that John Stone was involved.”
“Diligence?” Faust leaned forward in his seat, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the phone harder. “I am spending a substantial chunk of coin for your team to intervene in the matter. If one man is too much for you to handle, perhaps I can call your commanding officer directly, and he can find another team to deal with this John Stone.”
Faust ended the call and stared at the black screen, attempting to control his breathing. His lips pulled back as he bared his teeth, hurling the device across the car, shattering a whiskey tumbler.
The privacy screen rolled down. “Is everything okay, Mr. Kingston?”
“I’m fine, Rene,” Faust said, looking out the window.
“Sir, you’re bleeding!” Rene leaned in through the small gap.
Faust touched a finger to his cheek, where he felt something hit him when he threw the phone. It came away red, glistening in the afternoon sun.
He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. “Rene, cancel the meeting. Take me back to the office.”
CHAPTER
24
Detroit, Michigan
Travis stood behind Parker, hands in his pockets. He ran his tongue across his lower lip, watching the wall of text scroll up the screen. The computer wizard kept his eyes fixed on the screen as his fingers occasionally darted over the keyboard, altering the width of the text blocks flying by.
“Can you even read that?” Travis asked.
“Not all of it. I’m only looking for patterns right now,” Parker said. “The software is doing all of the reading.”
“What’s it saying?” Travis asked.
“Nothing.” Parker turned his chair to face Travis. “Nothing we don’t already know, anyway. Perhaps you know a few details I can use as parameters to narrow our search.”
“Or you can just spill it, and tell us know what we’re actually searching for,” Chance said.
“I would if I knew, Detective Hunter.” Travis looked at his watch again. “At this point, I know what you know. The CARR Group is potentially abusing their power and forcing inmates to forego longer sentences for service with a private defense contractor, like Mr. Forrester.”
“Then let’s shift our focus,” Roland said. “Let’s find out what we can about INSEC, and take them down.”
“I’m afraid we’ve got to take these dominoes down in order,” Travis said. “All of our intel ties the two entities together, but we’ve only got dirt on CARR.”
“What about Central America?” Roland asked. “That mission was just an excuse to exterminate the locals. I was there, I saw it.”
“Unfortunately, Mr. Forrester, I’ve seen the paperwork. Central America was a legitimate operation. INSEC was hired to accomplish an objective, which they did,” Travis said.
“Yeah, and then they slaughtered the people in the villages there, after they already surrendered,” Roland said.
Chance put a hand on Roland’s shoulder. “Chambers is right. Our case against Faust is strong, and only getting stronger with each piece of evidence we find. Once he falls, that gives us more evidence to shift our focus to International Security.”
Roland’s body tensed. He lifted his chin and took in two deep breaths. “Hawke needs to go down. We have to take INSEC out.”
“I get it, kid,” Chance said. “Trust me, they’ll topple as well.”
Tires skidded across the gravel, followed by a series of short horn blasts, repeating in an obnoxious pattern.
“We’ve got company,” Chance said, drawing his pistol.
“It’s Ty,” Travis said looking at his watch. “He’s a little early.”
* * *
Ty’s car rumbled to a stop as he pulled into the safe house and killed the engine. He hopped out and tousled his fingers through his spiky hair.
“You guys look like a bunch of sad sacks. I’m here now, so we can start the party,” he said.
Millie walked around the car and unslung her backpack. “Are you Parker?”
“Yeah, that’s me. So you’re Ty’s friend?”
She stopped short of scoffing and rolling her eyes. “No. We’re not friends.”
“I brought donuts,” Ty said, pulling a white box from the back seat. “Help yourselves.” He took one and handed the rest to Roland.
“It’s after six PM,” Chance said.
“What are you worried about, Black Dynamite? Just move your cheat day up.” Ty walked over to Parker, clasping hands and pulling him into a shoulder bump.
“No gunshot wounds?” Parker asked.
“Faster than a speeding bullet, baby,” Ty said, before stuffing half the donut into his mouth.
“Mister, uh, Octane,” Travis said, extending his hand.
Ty slapped it, leaving some powdered sugar residue. “Call me Ty, pops. No need for formalities here.”
Travis brushed his hands together. “Thank you for your help. Those files should be pretty helpful to us.”
Ty just shrugged with a crooked smile and took another big bite. “Where’s John?” he asked around a mouthful of pastry.
“Right here,” John said joining the rest of the team. “I see you haven’t lost any of your charm.”
“You didn’t get any bear claws or maple bars?” Chance asked, looking into the box of donuts.
“Bear claws? What are you, a cop?” Ty asked.
Chance grabbed a donut with sprinkles on one half. “Actually yes I am. Detroit Police Department.”
“Oh. Sorry to hear that,” Ty said.
“Hey, can we focus on the task at hand?” Millie asked, following Parker and Travis to the office.
* * *
Travis organized the files from Millie’s backpack. He handed the hard drive to Parker.
“What’s this?” Parker asked, looking up at Millie.
She shrugged. “Took it from one of the computers in an executive office. I didn’t have time to crack the login screen and dig through the data, so I just pulled it.”
Parker smiled and nodded. “I think I can work with this.” He pushed his chair back, rolling to the other side of the large cubicle.
Fishing in one of the drawers, he found a spare cable and hooked the hard drive up to his computer.
“Are you going to be able to pull anything from that?” Travis asked.
“That’s the easy part,” Parker said. “The hard part will be digging through everything on here. I’ve got programs for all of that normally, but we don’t know what’s on here, so one of us will have to do it.”
Travis held his hands up. “I can barely check my emails.”
“I can do it,” Millie said.
“Who are you again?” Travis asked.
“Just a concerned citizen. My friends call me Millie.”
Travis snapped his fingers. “New York.”
Parker and Millie both furrowed their brows, sharing quizzical glances with each other.
“The remote data facility in upstate New York,” Travis said. “The press reported it as a fire, but I saw the files. There were quite a few bodies inside, most wearing first generation INSEC gear, armed with military grade weapons.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t follow,” Millie said.
“Look, I’m not here to arrest anyone. I followed the trail as best I could,” Travis said. “Kept hitting dead ends, but two details popped up several times in my search. The Greeks, and Nine Millie. That’s you, right?”
The muscles in Millie’s jaw worked as she rubbed her temples. “I hate that name.”
Travis raised an eyebrow and smiled. “We don’t always get the luxury of picking our nicknames. But who are the Greeks?”
“Let’s focus on this first,” Millie said. “Then maybe I’ll fill you in later, when I cash in the favor you guys are going to owe me.”
“Fair enough.”
“Good to go,” Parker said, pulling another chair up to the spare keyboard and mouse he set up. “Once the screen shows—”
“I can figure it out,” Millie said, sitting down.
“Now for the fun part,” Travis said, waving the first stack of pages.
CHAPTER
25
Chicago, Illinois
Troy Spragg, CARR Group’s head of security straightened his posture, held his head up, and walked with confidence into Faust Kingston’s office. He wouldn’t let the worm intimidate him today.
Faust stood facing away from the door, hands behind his back as he stared out into the evening, watching the city’s lights come to life.
“Amazing view isn’t it?” Faust asked.
Troy waited for a second before speaking. “You wanted to see me?”
Faust turned to look over his shoulder. “I asked you a question, Spragg. This view is amazing isn’t it?”
Troy stole a glance out the window and fixed his gaze straight ahead again. “Yes, it is.”
“Do you think I really built this company up, making my way right here, by hiring incompetent morons?” Faust brushed a finger across one of his cufflinks as he walked around the desk.
Raising a brow, Troy looked down at Faust.
“I seem to recall telling you not to hire amateurs to do the work of a professional,” Faust said.
“Sir, my team is quite professional,” Troy said.
“Save it, Spragg. Your Boys and Girls Club couldn’t stop one single woman from escaping with the files I sent you to retrieve.”
“She had help,” Troy started.
“Yeah, I can see that. Some Asian kid in a rice box tuner. Hardly the level of opposition that could outclass a team providing world-class security.” Faust stood toe to toe with Troy, his nose just below the security lead’s chin.
In that instant, it was Troy Spragg that felt like the smaller man, almost shrinking away when confronted. He took a step back, and heard a sound behind him. Troy turned to see a woman, even taller than he was, with the build of a professional athlete that was clearly on performance enhancing substances. She met his stare, eye to eye, her cold demeanor pinballing the man back toward the CEO.
Faust spun Troy around to face him again. “How many strikes did I say you had, Spragg?”
“One, but I can fix this. I can get the files back.”
“Too late for that, you fat, no-tusk walrus,” Faust said.
“Mr. Kingston, please. Just let me—”
Faust nodded, and the woman snaked an arm around Troy’s neck, pulling him up onto his toes. She looped her other hand around his arm, yanking it behind his back.
Troy struggled against the woman’s iron grip. Faust undid his cufflinks and rolled his sleeves up.
“No second chances,” he said, pulling the 5-carat diamond ring off his pinky. “No strike two.”
He pivoted around and dug into Troy’s ribs with a shovel hook, following with an uppercut to his solar plexus. Troy gasped as a line of drool slid down onto the woman’s sleeve.
“I’m a reasonable guy. I don’t mind paying for results, but when you fail me.” Faust snapped a fist across Troy’s face. “I demand a refund. I demand my payback.”
Troy’s body sagged, his ankles buckling under his weight. The woman grunted and hoisted him back to his feet. Faust crushed Troy’s nose with a straight right, followed by a left and right hook to the ribs.
“Let him go,” Faust said, his face twisting into a lopsided grin.
The woman released her grip, and Troy collapsed to all fours. He crawled forward and grabbed Faust’s pant leg.
“I’m sorry, boss,” he wheezed.
Faust pulled his leg free and turned to deliver a soccer kick to the downed man’s ribs. Troy rolled to his side as blood and saliva pooled by his cheek.
“Pick him up. I don’t want his last act of defiance to be messing up my floors,” Faust said. “And call Captain Hawke. Tell him to bring Blythe to the Wolf’s Den personally.”
* * *
Detroit, Michigan
Shuffling the pages to look for any missing information, Parker bit his lip and sighed. “It’s just not enough.”
Travis sat at the edge of the desk. “We’ve got a much stronger connection between Faust, and INSEC. Maybe we can turn that into something.”
“We could, but that would set us back. It would be like starting another investigation,” John said. “That might take years if we don’t have a solid trail to follow.”
“John is right. CARR Group is our best bet,” Chance said. “Roland has some dirt on INSEC, but without concrete proof, it’s useless in the courtroom.”
Travis sighed. He looked at his watch, then rubbed his eyes with his palms. Parker leaned back in his chair, propping his hands on the armrests as he stretched his neck.
“Maybe this can help,” Millie said.
She double clicked an email entry and pulled up the message. Parker leaned close to the
monitor, his eyes squinting and mouth moving slightly as he read.
Parker’s eyes widened. “John, look at this.”
John read the message. The muscles in his neck flexed as he balled up his fists. “The Four Serpents.”
“The what?” Chance asked.
“The Four Serpents,” Travis said. “A terrorist cell that John helped bust-up in Paris not too long ago. But what’s the connection?” he asked, leaning in to read the message.
“Faust handled some financial transactions between the CARR Group and Azhaar bin Hashim, the group’s leader,” Parker said.
John closed his eyes and fought to calm himself. “Get what you can, Parker. If Faust and the CARR Group are connected to bin Hashim, we can nail them for sure.”
With a nod, Parker rolled back to his computer, pulling up a window and leaning back to glance at the message again, typing what he saw as he kept his head turned. He double checked the information on his screen and hit enter.
The rest of the team watched in silence, as Parker and Millie exchanged information in short sentences. They both danced their way through digital encryption, Parker guiding the young woman as she followed his lead.
“Can you two maybe fill the rest of us in?” Chance asked.
“Those emails included access information to a secure server that the CARR Group limits to execs only,” Parker said.
“Care to elaborate?” Chance asked.
“We could, but then we would be wasting time explaining what we’re doing,” Millie said.
“I like her answer,” John said. “Parker tends to suck the intelligence out of the room when he starts speaking in his technobabble. We’ll leave the two of you to it. Let us know when you’ve got something.”
* * *
The Hard Core Page 10