Nash had been scanning the open road, using binoculars, following the curve that allowed him to see what was approaching from a good distance away.
“Keep the faith,” he said.
“When Rackham finds out we’ve been sitting here instead of looking for Cooper, we’ll need more than faith on our side.”
“You think?”
“Nash, he could go crazy.”
“Not when we bring him the prize,” Nash said, “and here she comes.”
He thrust the binoculars into Macchio’s hands. When Macchio trained them on the spot, Nash indicated he saw a 4x4 Jeep moving in their direction and recognized it as the vehicle Cooper and the woman had been in when they had been at the crash site.
“That’s the vehicle registered to Laura Devon,” Nash said.
He fired up the SUV.
* * *
WHEN LAURA DEVON’S 4X4 came around the last bend before the approach to Hardesty, she was forced to slam on her brakes to avoid crashing into the big, black SUV parked across the road. Two armed men were waiting in front of the SUV, weapons aimed directly at her. She recognized them both as men from the facility.
Her first instinct was to reverse away until common sense took over. There was no way she could avoid any shots fired at her. The road was too narrow for her to make a fast turn. She sat and stared at the armed pair. One of them stepped out of the SUV and pointed his SMG at her.
“Get out and walk over to us,” Nash ordered. When she hesitated he raised his voice. “Let’s go.”
Devon opened her door and stepped out of the Jeep. She held her hands clear of her sides as she walked toward the SUV. Macchio opened a rear door for her to get in.
“I don’t believe it,” Devon said. “This already happened once before.”
Nash smiled. “Déjà vu. We missed you. The invitation stands. Your room’s still available. We’ve a way to go and this weather isn’t getting any better. Time to move.”
Macchio watched as Nash got the woman settled in the rear seat, then joined her.
“Let’s get out of here,” Nash said.
Macchio swung the SUV around Devon’s abandoned car and they headed back along the road.
“Don’t plan any trips to Vegas,” Macchio said over his shoulder. “You’re on a losing streak right now.”
“It must be down to the company I keep running into.”
She slumped against the back of the leather seat. Her thoughts were centered on Cooper. She knew he was determined to return to the facility to face Rackham. That concerned her. He still hadn’t recovered 100 percent, and for what he was contemplating that could prove his undoing. During her short time with him, he had proved his capabilities. At his peak he would have handled matters with ease—but right now Matt Cooper was not at his best. The people he would be going up against wouldn’t allow him any consideration for that. They would use anything to put him at a disadvantage.
And that would include using her as a pawn.
Chapter 10
“I don’t like all this waiting around,” Roger Conklin said. “Where are these mothers?”
His partner, Sid Groesch, used to Conklin’s grumbling, ignored him. He flexed his shoulders under the heavy raincoat. He wouldn’t admit it, but Conklin had a point. It had been a long wait for Rackham’s buyer.
“They’ll show. Rackham called it, so they’ll come.”
“Yeah? What if they come out shooting? Tell me who gets hit first?”
“This isn’t the O.K. Corral,” Groesch pointed out.
“Easily said. We know those Koreans are pissed the way the first deal went sour. Might be they’ll want the merchandise without paying. Kind of revenge for almost getting screwed before.”
“I don’t think so. They won’t want to blow away their supplier. From what I’ve heard, if they fuck about with Rackham, there won’t be any chance if they want seconds.”
“Yeah? Well, I don’t think Rackham is the hotshot he makes out to be. If he’s such an ace, how come he almost let that FBI undercover guy walk in and nearly screw the operation? Answer me that.”
“As long as he foots the payroll, I don’t give a damn if he’s Daffy Duck. I’m in this for the money, not a merit badge.”
Conklin lapsed into a sullen silence. He stared across the empty landscape, watching a thin mist of rain spiraling in off the low hills. He slung his SMG, thrusting a hand inside his raincoat and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He lit one with a disposable lighter and sucked in smoke.
“Chopper comin’ in,” Groesch said, pointing at the jagged line of wooded hills. Conklin followed his partner’s finger and made out the dark outline of a medium-size helicopter coming their way.
“About damn time,” he muttered.
Groesch banged his fist on the metal door behind them. When the door opened and Rackham appeared, Groesch said, “Looks like they’re here.”
The helicopter, a silver-and-black Sikorsky, swung in over the concrete and settled. The rotor wash created a spray of rain that bounced off the front of the building and soaked the two men outside.
“Son of a bitch,” Conklin yelled.
The whine of the chopper’s engine wound down. The passenger door opened, and two men stepped out of the aircraft and ran to the building. Rackham stood just within the opened door, and he ushered the two North Koreans inside.
“Doing a good job, guys,” Rackham said to Conklin and Groesch as he walked by.
The door slammed shut.
“The more I see that jerk the less I like him,” Conklin said.
* * *
RACKHAM SHOOK HANDS with his guests and led them to the enclosed office structure at the side of the building.
“After our last unfortunate episode, I decided this would be safer,” he said. “Less chance of being seen.”
The lead North Korean, his face impassive, simply nodded. His name was Jun. There was no more to his title than that.
The second Korean, no name at all for him, said, “We should conclude our business as quickly as possible.”
“Fine,” Rackham said. “I understand your caution.”
“We need the virus,” Jun said. “But what happened gave us concern.”
“The FBI, according to my sources, was hoping that by placing a man undercover they would locate our facility. We dealt with him before he was able to transmit any findings back to his people.” Rackham passed over a flash drive. “You’ll see what I mean when you view the recording.”
Jun managed a smile when he realized what Rackham meant.
“How did the entrapment come about?” Jun’s man asked.
“The FBI try as many means as they can to make an arrest. The sting operation was one of them. By a miscalculation someone from another agency found out and walked in when our man was making the deal. The man who was impersonating one of your people was shot as well as our representative.”
“A messy affair all around,” Jun said.
“Have you found your missing man?”
Jun shook his head. “He must have been intercepted after he journeyed to attend the meeting. We may never find his body. If he does still live, we will deal with him. Failure is not an option we favor.”
“In truth no one really profited from the meeting.”
“So you will be able to complete our order?”
“Yes. Within the next twelve hours I’ve been told. When that’s done, we’ll abandon the current facility and relocate elsewhere. I’ll give you the location and we can conclude our negotiations.” Rackham smiled. “Business goes on, gentlemen.”
He indicated the case sitting on the small table. Jun crossed to it and snapped the lid open. The glass vial rested in the sponge lining. Jun inspected it carefully before closing the l
id and securing the catches. He picked up the case and nodded to his companion. The man handed over the leather bag. Rackham placed it on the table without even checking the contents.
“Once we have analyzed the item I will contact you,” the nameless man said. “Our man is capable of analyzing the sample in a few hours.” He glanced at the bag handed over to Rackham. “You do not wish to inspect the contents?”
“Do I need to?” Rackham said. “This is about trust between us. We both want a successful outcome. How would betrayal benefit anyone at this stage?”
“Have the consignment ready as soon as possible. We wish to move the operation forward. Our timetable has been advanced.”
“Have a safe journey,” Rackham said.
He escorted the two North Koreans to the door and stood watching as they returned to the waiting helicopter. As the rotors began to turn, Rackham told Conklin and Groesch to step inside. Conklin closed the door as the displaced rain slapped against the building.
“Time to get out of here,” Rackham said.
“First good thing I heard all day,” Groesch stated.
Rackham walked by and went inside the office. He was standing at the table, his back to Conklin and Groesch as they joined him.
“At least we got the money this time,” Conklin said, starting to feel a little less aggrieved.
“Yeah,” Groesch agreed. It made getting soaking wet worth it.
“When do we get paid?” Conklin asked.
“Right now,” Rackham said.
He turned around, his right hand coming out from under his jacket with a P226. He fired without hesitation. The first slug took Conklin between the eyes; the second hit Groesch just above his left eye. They hit the floor together. Rackham stepped forward and stood over their jerking bodies. He deliberately fired two more 9 mm slugs into their heads, the through and through shots removing the backs of their skulls and spreading bloody brains across the floor.
Rackham slipped his cell phone from his pocket and keyed in a number. When it was answered he said, “Come and get me out of here.”
He took the bag and made for the door. He stood waiting and saw a large SUV roll into view. It sped across the concrete and came to a stop. Rackham stepped outside and pulled open the passenger door. The SUV swung around and picked up speed.
“Any problems?” the driver asked, glancing at the leather bag Rackham had placed between his feet.
“None worth mentioning,” Rackham said.
He turned to look at the driver.
Lise Delaware moistened her curving lips as she concentrated on her driving. Her eyes gleamed with some inner thought.
“Groesch and Conklin? You’re certain they’re both dead?”
“Three shots each to the head,” Rackham told her.
He heard the sharp inhalation as she savored the words, saw the way her hands gripped the wheel, the knuckles showing white with tension. Her smooth, flawless cheeks reddened with a noticeable flush.
“Good,” she said, her voice husky.
“Most women get turned on by the sight of diamonds,” Rackham said.
“I’m not most women.”
That, Rackham had to agree, was the understatement of the decade.
Lise Delaware was the extreme in everything she said or did. From the way she dressed to her skills in the bedroom, the woman excelled. Rackham had sampled it all and always came back for more. He enjoyed her company, and he found her organizational abilities second to none. Within the group she held a position of power that allowed her to dominate her male colleagues. Some didn’t like that, but they never questioned her position. Delaware was top echelon, and if she continued to endorse Rackham there was no one who would voice a complaint.
“Cooper?” she said quietly, changing the subject. “Where do we stand with him?”
Rackham reached up to touch the still-raw gouge around his neck under the turtleneck sweater he wore. The wound still hurt, and he had promised himself he would exact some revenge for what Cooper had done to him.
“Bastard is still evading us. Staying one step ahead. He’ll want to take us down. No question.”
“Greg, we have to get our hands on him. If he talks to the right people, it could all go up in smoke. The government will make us disappear.”
“Think I don’t know? Lise, please don’t start quoting Code 18 at me. I understand it well enough.”
“If we get away with this, we’ll have money to burn. If we don’t and they catch us, it’s goodbye to sunny days and green grass. They’ll bury us so deep we’ll never need sunshades again. Alternatively we could be executed.”
“I always did admire your way with words,” Rackham said.
“Then we need to find Cooper.”
“That’s why I’m cutting off outside links so we don’t have strays hanging around.”
“Like Groesch and Conklin?”
“They were just guns for hire. Not really part of the main team. We couldn’t afford to have them running around loose.”
“So let’s get your people back on Cooper’s trail. Keep the production team working 24/7. If the Koreans like the sample, they’ll be coming back for more. We need to be ready for them.”
“We will be. The batch will be ready in hours. I look ahead, Lise. We have other interested parties. Even if the Koreans pulled out, we can offer the virus elsewhere.”
“I do understand the concept, Greg, and I have impressed it on the organization. It’s hard work sometimes. They have this innate ability to reduce everything down to dollars and cents without any thought that to make money you have to invest in time and patience.”
“I’m not criticizing you, Lise. With this virus we have no choice but to be careful. Any break in protocol and we could end up like Pembury and the others.” He smiled. “Though they were unwilling victims.”
“We have that on our side. None of the group is going to come down and start banging on the door demanding to be let in. Those people are too scared to come within a hundred miles of the facility. They can whine and bleat all they want. As long as they run interference within their individual departments, we’ll be fine. That will give us the stretch to do this properly before we pack our bags and move on.”
“Counting the profits.”
She smiled at him, dropping a hand on his thigh, her nails digging in. “Money isn’t everything. I know enough to understand that.”
Rackham’s phone shrilled. He answered the call. Delaware turned her head slightly and caught a glimpse of the expression in his eyes. What she saw pleased her. When Rackham ended the call, during which he hadn’t spoken a word, he glanced at her.
“That was Nash. It appears he has been using his initiative. He’s retaken the woman who was with Cooper. He’s returning her to the facility. It gives us an edge. Cooper will try to rescue the woman. When I spoke to Cody earlier, I told him how to handle it. Wound Cooper if they have to but don’t kill him. I want that guy back.”
“Call Nash back,” Delaware said. “Get him to send a team to Hardesty. Get them to check out the place.”
“Why?”
“A feeling. Just in case Cooper shows his face there. Let’s cover all the bases. Send in a few men. We can spare them to look the place over. Humor me, Greg.”
“Woman’s intuition?”
Delaware shrugged. “Maybe. Then we can go to the safehouse knowing we’re covered.”
“If Cody does get his hands on Cooper, I can wait. In fact the longer I wait the more I’ll enjoy it when I get around to dealing with him. We’ll go to the backup house. As soon as the virus batch is ready it can be brought to us.”
Delaware digested the information. “This is getting more interesting all the time.”
“I get the impression all this is turning you on, Li
se.”
“You aren’t wrong, love,” Delaware said, her ragged tones an indication of her arousal. “If we have time when we make the deal, I’ll be forced to show you just how much.”
Rackham flinched slightly as her nails dug deeper into the flesh of his thigh, and for a few seconds he forgot about Cooper, the virus and the vast amount of money they were liable to make from the upcoming deal.
Chapter 11
Joshua Riba had slowed the red SUV and swung it off the road, entering the parking area outside the diner. There were no other vehicles in sight. He cut the big V8 engine and sat scanning the area before he climbed out and locked the vehicle. He pulled his leather jacket over the holstered .45-caliber Colt Peacemaker revolver he carried in a cross-draw holster on his left hip, adjusted the fit of his black Stetson and made his way to the diner’s entrance.
Standing over six feet tall, with a leanly muscled body, Joshua Riba was a full-blooded Apache from New Mexico. Apart from his white cotton shirt he was dressed in black, right down to his Western-style leather boots. He was a direct descendant of an Apache warrior called Charriba, a man who had fiercely resisted the coming of the white man and had fought a running battle with the U.S. Army. Riba still had family living in New Mexico, but they were peaceable and existed alongside the whites on their own terms. Riba was a fully licensed P.I., maintaining a good relationship with his people that helped combine the modern alongside the traditional.
He was here in Hardesty on a personal mission. Looking for the man he now knew as Matt Cooper. When Riba had first come into contact with the man he had used the name Belasko. That had been a while back during the Zero incident, when Riba had become involved in the affair and had sided with the man. Since then they had maintained a loose contact. In the short time they had worked together Riba had come to admire the enigmatic man.
Now he was looking for him. Cooper had vanished, and Riba had been drawn into searching for him by a man named Hal Brognola. Riba’s association with Brognola had also been during the Zero affair.
Brognola’s call on Riba’s personal cell phone had come out of the blue, and the P.I. had picked up on the man’s concern.
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