Standing didn’t want to tell the SEALs about the two dead FBI agents, so he just shrugged again. ‘Good question,’ he said. He nodded at Kaitlyn. ‘We should get back to LA,’ he said.
They stood up and all three SEALs shook Standing’s hand. ‘I meant what I said, you need anything, just ask,’ said Fenn. ‘Give me your phone.’ Standing handed over his mobile and Fenn tapped in his number. ‘You need us, we’re there for you,’ he said, and gave the phone back to Standing.
Standing went to the bar and paid his bill, and also paid for the food and drinks of the three SEALs. ‘We need to go to Pasadena,’ he said as they walked back to the Chevrolet.
‘Pasadena? Why?’
‘That’s where John Keenan lives. The guy that was following your Polo. I took his driving licence. I need to talk to him.’
‘Now?’
‘I figure if we drop by in the middle of the night we’re more likely to catch him at home,’ said Standing.
11
John Keenan lived in a small Spanish-style single-storey house in a quiet street on the outskirts of Pasadena. Standing parked some distance away and looked at his watch. He had left it until just before three o’clock in the morning before driving to the house, figuring it was the best time to make an unannounced home visit. Kaitlyn was sitting in the front passenger seat, wearing the long black wig that they had bought in the charity shop in Santa Monica. She looked totally different. Standing had one of the Glocks in his lap. He couldn’t see any security cameras around the house but there was a burglar alarm box and as Keenan was in the security business, Standing was fairly sure the house wouldn’t be easy to break into.
‘I should take my gun,’ said Kaitlyn.
‘Best you don’t,’ said Standing. ‘Leave it in the car. Just ring the bell.’ He shoved a roll of duct tape in his jacket pocket. ‘Once he comes to the door, you get back in the car and wait for me.’
‘What are you going to do to him?’
‘Ask him a few questions, that’s all.’
‘Are you going to hurt him?’
‘I’m not planning to.’ He grinned. ‘Not much, anyway. Kaitlyn, this guy is trying to kill your brother. If I have to slap him around a bit to find out what’s going on, then so be it.’
She nodded solemnly. ‘Okay.’
They got out of the car. The street was deserted and well lit. They walked across the road and up the driveway to the front door. There was a small porch and Standing stood to the side and pressed his back against the wall. He nodded at Kaitlyn. She stepped forward, pressed the doorbell, and stepped back. They waited for thirty seconds and when nothing happened he motioned for her to ring again. This time they heard footsteps and the door opened a few inches. It was on a security chain. ‘Who is it?’ growled a man.
‘I’m so sorry to bother you, but my dog has got into your back garden. Can I get her, please?’
‘What?’
‘My dog. Sasha. She’s pregnant and she’s got a bladder problem, so I have to take her out all the time and she ran off. She went into your garden.’
The man unlatched the chain and opened the door wide. ‘Do you have any idea what time it is?’ It was Keenan. Standing moved quickly and jammed the barrel of his Glock under Keenan’s chin. He pushed him into the hallway and kicked the door shut behind him.
‘Is there anyone else in the house?’ Standing hissed. ‘Tell me, because if there is and they burst in on me, I’ll have no choice other than to shoot them.’
‘There’s no one here,’ said Keenan. ‘Just me.’ He was naked underneath a blue towelling bathrobe.
Standing kept the gun jammed into the man’s neck as he marched him through to the sitting room. He made him sit down on a wooden chair with arms, and gave him the roll of duct tape. ‘Tie your ankles to the chair,’ he said, gesturing with his gun.
‘You’re the Brit,’ snarled Keenan. His face was bruised and one of his eyes was puffy from where Standing had hit him after his car had crashed off the road.
‘Just keep your mouth shut and do as I say,’ said Standing. ‘Tie your ankles to the chair.’
Keenan glared at Standing, and then did as he was told. He used the duct tape to bind his left ankle to the chair, then did the same to his right. Standing gestured with his gun.
‘Now tape your left arm to the arm of the chair.’
‘It’d be easier if you did it,’ said Keenan.
‘Yeah? And it’ll be a lot more painful if I put a bullet in your arm. Just do as you’re told.’
Keenan opened his mouth to say something but then had a change of heart and followed Standing’s instructions. Once the left arm was secured, Standing stepped forward, placed the gun on the table and quickly bound Keenan’s right arm to the chair.
‘What the fuck is this about?’ asked Keenan. He didn’t seem the least bit frightened and he stared unflinchingly at Standing.
‘Why are you trying to kill Bobby-Ray?’ asked Standing.
Keenan’s forehead creased into a frown. ‘Say what?’
‘You heard me. You were following us from the airport.’
‘That’s right. We had the sister under surveillance.’
‘Because you want to find Bobby-Ray.’
‘Damn right. He killed a client. And one of my men.’
‘So you want revenge, is that it?’
Keenan’s frown deepened. ‘What the fuck is your problem?’ he hissed. ‘You ran me off the road, remember? You tipped over our car and damn near killed us.’
‘You were trying to get me off the road.’
‘To talk to you. We’d realised that the sister wasn’t with you and that you were on to us.’
‘So you decided to kill me.’
‘You’ve got this the wrong way around. You tried to kill us. Any one of us could have easily died in that crash.’
‘And what about the drive-by shooting at the motel?’
‘What motel?’ Keenan seemed genuinely confused by the question.
‘The Sunset Motel in Van Nuys,’ said Standing. ‘Where Bobby-Ray was holed up. Two SUVs armed to the teeth killed a motel employee and nearly took out me and Kaitlyn.’
‘That wasn’t our people,’ said Keenan.
‘So you say. But then you would say that, wouldn’t you? Seeing as how you’re tied to that chair and I’m holding a gun.’
‘Why would Redrock want to hurt you or Bobby-Ray’s sister? It’s Bobby-Ray we want. And when I say “want” I mean to talk to, not to hurt. We just want to know what happened.’
Standing stared at Keenan in silence. The man appeared to be telling the truth, and it had never made any sense that Bobby-Ray’s employers would try to kill them.
‘What happened at this motel?’ asked Keenan.
‘Bobby-Ray had told Kaitlyn he’d wait for her there. We looked through the window and saw a body on the floor. We thought it was Bobby-Ray so we broke in, but instead we found two dead FBI agents. A motel employee pulled a shotgun on us and two SUVs turned up and started shooting.’ He shrugged. ‘Kaitlyn and I were okay, so we got out of there.’
‘Two FBI agents, you say?’
‘Roy Johnson and Michael Kelly. They’d both been shot.’
‘By Bobby-Ray? Are you telling me that Bobby-Ray killed two FBI agents?’
‘I’m not psychic, how would I know?’ said Standing. ‘It looked to me that whoever did it used Johnson’s gun.’
‘Bobby-Ray would have been more than capable of that,’ said Keenan.
‘But do you think he’d shoot Feds?’
‘I don’t know what to think any more,’ said Keenan. ‘We’ve got a dead client and three dead bodyguards and Bobby-Ray’s on the run. If you’d asked me a week ago if I thought he’d go rogue I’d have laughed in your face. But now? I don’t know.’
‘If he had gone rogue, he wouldn’t have called me for help, surely.’
‘But if he’s done nothing wrong, why not talk to me? Why not talk to the cops or the FBI? If
he’s got nothing to hide, all he’s got to do is tell us his side of the story.’ He nodded at his bound wrists. ‘Why don’t you untie me and we talk about this over a drink?’
Standing stared at the man for several seconds, and then nodded. ‘Okay, but you won’t be offended if I keep the gun?’
‘We’re on the same side,’ said Keenan. ‘What did you say your name was?’
‘I didn’t. But it’s Matt.’
‘Okay, Matt. There’s a letter opener over there on my desk. Get this tape off me and I’ll open a very good single malt.’
Standing went over to the desk and picked up a miniature silver sword. He used it to cut the tape from Keenan’s ankles, and then did the wrists. He moved away, the letter opener in one hand, the gun in the other. Keenan grinned as he rubbed his wrists. ‘You can relax, Matt.’
‘I’m relaxed.’
‘I’m not going to jump you.’
‘You’re welcome to try.’
Keenan looked him up and down. ‘Former special forces?’
Standing said nothing.
‘SAS?’
‘How about you open that whisky,’ said Standing.
‘See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil,’ said Keenan. ‘I get it.’ He stood up and walked over to a cabinet. As he took out a bottle of whisky and two glasses, Standing put the paperknife back on the desk. Keenan splashed whisky into the glasses and then handed one to Standing. ‘Here’s to you, Matt,’ said the American and they clinked glasses and drank. Standing nodded his appreciation. It was a very good whisky.
Keenan waved him over to two winged chairs close to the window and they sat down. ‘Who was the girl at the door?’ he asked, then realisation dawned. ‘That was Bobby-Ray’s sister? Why don’t you invite her in?’
‘Let’s just leave her where she is,’ said Standing. He put the gun on a side table. He watched Keenan thoughtfully as he sipped his whisky again. ‘How much do you know about what happened at the Russian’s house?’ asked Standing.
‘We’ve only got the word of the surviving Russian bodyguard, and we haven’t been allowed to talk to him. So the intel we have is second-hand, courtesy of the LAPD. The bodyguard told them that they had arrived home in the late afternoon. They were in two vehicles. The client and five bodyguards in total.’
‘Including drivers?’
Keenan shook his head. ‘Plus the drivers. Bobby-Ray was in the client’s vehicle, front passenger seat. Kurt Konieczny was in the front passenger seat of the lead vehicle. There were two Russian bodyguards in Kurt’s car and one in the car with Bobby-Ray and the client. They drove up to the house and Bobby-Ray and Kurt went inside with the client, along with the three Russians.’ He sipped his whisky. ‘Once the client was safely inside, the cars drove to the garage area and parked up. The client was in for the night, so normal procedure is for the team to make sure that the house is clear, check the alarm system and then leave. One of the bodyguards went upstairs to check the bedrooms and while he was there Bobby-Ray shot Kurt and the two Russian bodyguards and then shot the client. The surviving Russian came downstairs and Bobby-Ray shot at him and ran off.’
‘Ran off? Literally? He just legged it?’
‘There were two security guards at the driveway entrance and they heard the shots but didn’t see Bobby-Ray. He got out through the garden at the rear of the house.’
‘And the bodyguard who went upstairs, did he shoot at Bobby-Ray?’
‘He says so.’
‘And the cops checked it out?’
‘There’s bullet damage that backs up his story. That’s what the cops said.’
‘And it was Bobby-Ray’s gun that was used to kill the client and the bodyguards?’
‘No question of that. The cops have the gun.’
Standing frowned. ‘So Bobby-Ray left the gun behind?’
Keenan nodded. ‘The magazine was empty.’
‘Even so. You don’t throw away a perfectly serviceable weapon. Especially if you’ve just used it to shoot people.’
Keenan shrugged. ‘He was under pressure. And under fire.’
‘Yeah, about that,’ said Standing. ‘Bobby-Ray shoots three trained bodyguards, one of whom is a former Navy SEAL, shoots the client, and then somehow fails to hit the bodyguard on the stairs? Does that sound likely to you?’
‘Like I said, he was under pressure. The cops found Bobby-Ray’s gun in the garden. His fingerprints and DNA were on it, and it was definitely the gun that killed the client and the bodyguards. And it matched rounds in the hallway where he’d shot at the bodyguard on the stairs.’
‘And knowing that, he still dropped his gun?’
Keenan held up his free hand. ‘I hear you,’ he said.
‘But do you? You seem to think that Bobby-Ray killed the client and three other men, including a friend and a former colleague.’
‘That’s not true. I’ve got an open mind. But the fact that Bobby-Ray didn’t immediately come to me or the cops suggests he has something to hide.’
‘Or that he doesn’t trust you.’
Keenan’s eyes narrowed. ‘What are you getting at?’
Standing smiled coldly. ‘Like you, I’m keeping an open mind. But if Bobby-Ray has done what they’ve said he’s done then I don’t see why he’d be calling me.’
‘Maybe he wants you to get him out of the country.’
‘Maybe,’ said Standing. ‘After it happened, he didn’t call you? He didn’t get in contact?’
Keenan shook his head. ‘He ditched his company phone. Never heard from him again.’ Keenan took another sip of whisky. ‘We could spend all day talking about maybes and ifs,’ he said. ‘But until we talk to Bobby-Ray, we’re just whistling in the wind.’
‘We need to talk to the surviving bodyguard.’
‘We tried. It’s not going to happen.’
‘Because?’
‘Because he’s left the country. He’s back in London.’
Standing put down his drink. ‘How the hell was that allowed?’
‘He’s not a suspect. He’s a witness. He has no criminal record and the cops had no reason to detain him. He was fully cooperative and has promised to come back in the event of a trial.’
‘That’s very public-spirited of him. The cops should have at the very least told him not to leave town.’
‘I don’t think they had any reason to do that.’
‘Because they’re sure that Bobby-Ray is the killer?’
Keenan nodded but didn’t say anything.
‘What’s the guy’s name?’ asked Standing.
‘Nikolai. Nikolai Lipov. But if you’re thinking of talking to him, forget it. We sent one of our people to talk to him in London and Lipov beat him to a pulp. These dead FBI agents you found, what did you say their names were?’
‘Roy Johnson and Michael Kelly,’ said Standing.
Keenan went over to his desk and immediately Standing’s hand went for the gun on the side table. Keenan froze and smiled. ‘I’m getting a pen,’ he said. ‘It’s a very nice Montblanc but it’s no match for your Glock.’
Standing nodded but kept his hand close to the pistol as Keenan reached out for a black pen and a small leather-bound notebook. He wrote down the names. ‘I haven’t heard anything about two Feds being shot but I’ll check,’ he said.
‘There’s something you need to know about that,’ said Standing. ‘There was a silencer on Johnson’s gun.’
Keenan frowned. ‘Silencers are illegal in California,’ he said.
‘Legal or not, what would a Fed be doing with one?’
‘They were definitely Feds?’
‘They had FBI shields.’
Keenan chuckled. ‘You can buy them online,’ he said. He put the pen and notepad away. ‘Let me check them out. So what are you planning to do?’
‘I don’t have many options,’ said Standing. ‘Like you, I want to talk to Bobby-Ray. And the way things stand, I don’t see that happening.’
‘He hasn’t con
tacted his sister?’
‘Just the once, after it happened. He told her to contact me and to take me to the motel. Obviously he’s gone to ground again and I assume he thinks that whoever is trying to kill him is able to tap phones and monitor emails.’
‘That’s not as easy as it sounds.’
‘It is if the government is involved,’ said Standing.
‘What are you thinking? FBI? CIA? NSA?’
‘Who knows?’ said Standing. ‘It might just be someone who has access to their technology, officially or otherwise.’
Keenan frowned. ‘I don’t follow you.’
Standing drained his glass. ‘Everyone’s so busy looking for Bobby-Ray that nobody seems to be taking any interest in the victim. He’s a Russian, right? A Russian who only recently moved to the States. And someone fearful enough to be hiring bodyguards. Maybe he had enemies in high places.’
‘There was an attempt on his life in London,’ said Keenan. ‘That’s why he moved to the States.’
Standing frowned. ‘There was nothing in the papers about that.’
‘It was hushed up,’ said Keenan. ‘Some sort of poison, that’s what he said.’
‘You met him?’
‘I had a preliminary briefing with him to assess his needs. He had minimal security in London, which he realised was a mistake, obviously. We put together a security proposal and as part of that Bobby-Ray was assigned to his inner circle.’
‘Who did he think wanted him dead?’
Keenan shrugged. ‘He didn’t say.’
‘Did you ask?’
‘Of course I asked, but he was vague. Said that all of the oligarchs are under threat.’
‘From the Kremlin?’
‘He wasn’t specific and he made it clear he didn’t want to go into details. He said our job was just to protect him and that it didn’t matter where the threats came from.’
‘Is that normal?’
‘It depends,’ said Keenan, pouring himself more whisky. ‘We are sometimes paid to look after some pretty shady characters. It’s understandable that they wouldn’t want to go into the details of who they’ve pissed off.’
‘And you think Koshkin fell into that category?’
‘Difficult to say for sure. But yeah, maybe.’ He sipped his whisky. ‘You realise we’re on the same side here, right? It’s in my best interests to prove that Bobby-Ray didn’t go rogue and kill our client. If I can’t prove that, no one is going to trust my company ever again.’
Last Man Standing Page 10