‘You know that John’s dead, Bobby-Ray. He was shot in the house where Koshkin was killed. Paul Dutch is dead, too.’
‘I know. I know.’
‘Bobby-Ray, they’re saying you did it.’
‘What?’
‘They’re saying you killed them. And two cops.’
‘I wasn’t there, Faith. It was nothing to do with me.’
‘Then you need to tell the LAPD that, Bobby-Ray. I’ll pick you up and we’ll get our lawyers involved and we’ll get this sorted.’
Standing was frowning over at Bobby-Ray. ‘What?’ he mouthed.
‘It’s okay,’ mouthed Bobby-Ray and he flashed Standing a thumbs-up. ‘Faith, listen to me. I’ve got evidence that proves I didn’t kill Koshkin and Kurt and the Russians.’
‘What sort of evidence?’
‘Nikolai Lipov killed them. I’ve got the gloves he was wearing and the silencer he used in my gun the night he shot Koshkin.’
There was silence for several seconds before she spoke again. ‘How did you get them?’ she said eventually. ‘You said you weren’t in the house.’
‘I wasn’t. But I have the evidence and it proves he’s the killer, not me.’
‘Then you need to give that evidence to our lawyers. Then we can go to the LAPD and make this right.’
‘It’s too dangerous, Faith,’ said Bobby-Ray. ‘They’re trying to kill me.’
‘Who are? Who’s trying to kill you?’
‘I don’t know. The cops, maybe. Or some crazy Russians. There’s all sorts of shit going on.’
‘And I can help you, Bobby-Ray. Bring the evidence to me and we’ll go and see the lawyers.’
‘If I get picked up with the evidence by crooked cops then I’m dead,’ said Bobby-Ray.
Standing grinned and gave Bobby-Ray the thumbs-up.
‘Where is it? This evidence?’ asked Hogan.
‘A left-luggage place, near the airport.’
‘Then I’ll see you there,’ she said. ‘You can give it to me, and I’ll take it to the lawyers.’
‘I’m not talking to the cops,’ said Bobby-Ray. ‘Not yet.’
‘You don’t have to,’ said Hogan. ‘I’ll take the evidence to our lawyers and they’ll make sure it’s protected. Then I’ll get them to advise us on what to do next. You can stay under the radar until all our ducks are in a row.’
‘That’s what you said last time, Faith.’
‘It’s got more complicated since then, what with John being killed. But we can bring you in, Bobby-Ray. I swear.’
Bobby-Ray kept quiet, as if he was considering her offer.
‘Bobby-Ray, are you still there?’ she asked eventually.
‘I’m here, Faith.’
‘Where’s here?’
‘Just a motel.’
‘I’ll come there.’
‘No,’ he said quickly. ‘All right, I’ll see you at the left-luggage place. Three hours from now. I’ll text you the address. But come alone. I’ll give you the evidence and we’ll take it from there.’
‘You’re doing the right thing, Bobby-Ray,’ said Hogan.
‘Just make sure you come alone,’ said Bobby-Ray, and he ended the call.
‘Do you think she bought it?’ asked Standing.
‘I think so. But she’s a smart one.’
‘You told her about the evidence. She needs to get that, and this is her only chance.’
‘She’ll bring back-up.’
‘Let’s hope so. Because we need her on CCTV working with the Russian mafia. If we have that, we can tie her into the killings.’
‘She’s going to try to kill us, Matt. You know that.’
Standing raised his beer bottle and grinned. ‘She can try.’
48
Standing parked the Escape a short walk away from the left-luggage outlet. He had his Beretta in his belt under his jacket and Bobby-Ray had his gun tucked into the back of his jeans. They walked towards the shop, eyes watchful. It was three o’clock in the morning and there was no traffic on the roads. They had left Kaitlyn in the motel. She had wanted to go with them but they had insisted that it was too dangerous.
The woman standing in front of the shop was short, not much over five feet, though her high heels added a couple of inches. She had shoulder-length dyed blonde hair pushed back from her eyes with a pair of Dior sunglasses, which seemed incongruous to Standing, considering that it was the middle of the night.
She was wearing a dark-blue suit and carrying a Louis Vuitton shoulder bag. She smiled and waved when she saw Bobby-Ray and walked towards him, her high heels clicking on the pavement. ‘I’m so glad to see you,’ she said. ‘We’ve all been so worried.’
‘This is my friend, Matt,’ said Bobby-Ray. ‘Matt, this is Faith Hogan. My boss.’
Hogan held out her hand. Her nails were bright red and pointed. She had a firm grip when she shook and the nails bit into his flesh. ‘Pleased to meet you, Matt.’ She released her grip on his hand. ‘But I have to say I was expecting Bobby-Ray to be alone. You didn’t say anything about bringing a friend when we spoke on the phone.’
‘I’m the one who put the evidence in the locker,’ said Standing. He took out his wallet and used his credit card to open the door. ‘After you,’ he said.
She smiled and stepped inside. As Standing moved to follow her, three big men in bomber jackets ran up holding guns. One grabbed Standing by the collar and jabbed a gun into his neck. Another pulled Standing’s Beretta out, while the third kept his gun aimed at Bobby-Ray’s face. ‘Faith, what’s going on?’ asked Bobby-Ray. The heavy reached around Bobby-Ray’s back and relieved him of his weapon.
‘Let’s take this inside, shall we?’ said Hogan. She held open the door and the three heavies pushed Standing and Bobby-Ray through.
When they were all inside, Hogan closed the door. The three heavies stepped back, keeping their guns trained on Standing and Bobby-Ray.
‘Who are these guys?’ asked Bobby-Ray. ‘Are they with Redrock?’
‘From the bad clothes and the body odour, I’d say they’re Russians,’ said Standing.
‘Fuck you, suka,’ growled one of the heavies.
‘There you go,’ said Standing.
‘I wouldn’t go upsetting them, if I were you,’ said Hogan. ‘They’re already very unhappy at what you did to their friends.’
‘So you’re in with the Solntsevskaya?’ said Standing.
‘Just get the evidence out and we can be on our way,’ said Hogan.
‘You’ve no intention of taking it to the cops, have you?’ said Standing.
‘Just do as you’re told,’ said Hogan.
‘And if I don’t? What will you do? Shoot us?’
‘We’ll do whatever’s necessary,’ said Hogan.
Standing smiled. ‘You know it’s over for you, don’t you?’
She frowned. ‘What are you talking about?’
Standing pointed up at the small black dome in the corner of the unit. ‘CCTV,’ he said. ‘Everything you’ve done has been recorded and is on the company’s mainframe. You and your mafia friends with guns.’
She smiled coldly. ‘No one’s going to be checking the footage,’ she said. ‘They only do that if they think something’s wrong and there’s been no damage, no violence, nothing. No harm, no foul. Now open the locker.’
‘Go fuck yourself.’
A white SUV pulled up at the side of the road. Hogan smiled. ‘Here we are,’ she said. ‘This might change your perception of the situation.’ The rear door of the SUV opened and another heavy got out. He was bearded and wearing a heavy black leather jacket. He looked around, then reached into the back of the vehicle and pulled out a girl wearing a sweatshirt and cut-off jeans. The heavy marched her towards the shop, a gun jammed up against her neck. It was Kaitlyn.
‘You bitch!’ shouted Bobby-Ray.
‘Is that any way to talk to a lady?’ said Hogan. ‘Now, if you continue to give me any problems, just think what will happen
to your lovely sister. What these guys will do to her …’ She faked a shudder. ‘Well, better we don’t go there. Just give me the evidence.’
Standing glared at her as he walked over to the locker. He tapped his date of birth on the keypad and the locker opened.
‘Stop!’ shouted one of the Russians as Standing reached inside. Standing slowly stepped back, raising his hands to show that he wasn’t a threat. The heavy groped inside the locker and pulled out the evidence bag. He handed it to Hogan. She looked at it and smiled. ‘And these will have Lipov’s fingerprints on them?’
Bobby-Ray nodded. ‘If you give them to the cops, they’ll know that Redrock wasn’t involved in the killing.’
‘That’s not going to happen,’ she said. ‘Right. Outside.’
The heavy holding Kaitlyn had reached the window of the shop. He still had his gun pressed against her neck. It was a Ruger SP101 hammerless revolver with rubber grips. It was a .357 magnum but the calibre was irrelevant because at that range anything would kill. The heavy saw Standing looking at the gun and he grinned, showing two gold front teeth. He jabbed the barrel savagely against Kaitlyn’s neck and she yelped.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Standing, turning to look at Hogan. Three figures appeared from behind the shop. Stephen Fenn, John McNally and Simon Farrant. All were dressed casually in sweatshirts and tracksuit bottoms and all were holding Sig Sauer P226 MK25s, the favoured handguns of Navy SEALs. The heavy holding Kaitlyn kept his gun pressed into the side of Kaitlyn’s neck and backed away from the SEALs as they covered him with their weapons.
Standing grabbed the evidence bag off Hogan. ‘Everyone needs to stay calm,’ said Standing. ‘If bullets start to fly then the cops will come and the CCTV will be checked and that’ll be that.’
‘So what are you suggesting?’ said Hogan quietly.
‘You just walk away. I’ll give the evidence to the cops and the heat will be off Bobby-Ray. Redrock is clean and you get on with whatever it is you do for the Russians. We don’t care. We just want to get out from under all this shit. You can tell Markov that he’s in the clear, the cops aren’t going to be looking at him or the Solntsevskaya organisation. They’ll have the evidence that Nikolai Lipov was the killer and he’s dead.’
‘Lipov’s dead?’ asked Hogan.
‘As a doornail.’
‘How did that happen?’
‘He cut himself shaving. In London.’
Hogan’s eyes narrowed. ‘You killed him?’
Standing flashed her a tight smile but didn’t say anything.
Hogan continued to stare at Standing, but then she shook her head. ‘That’s not going to fly,’ she said. ‘If we walk away, you’ll go to the cops. You’ll show them the evidence and the CCTV footage and then they’ll come for me. I’m not stupid. There’s no way you’ll keep quiet about this, not after everything that’s happened.’
‘So you can run,’ said Standing. ‘It’ll take them time to go after you. You’ve got money. All your Solntsevskaya connections. I’m sure they’ll fix you up with something in Moscow.’ Standing looked at his watch. ‘I’d go now if I were you,’ he said. ‘The clock’s ticking.’
She continued to stare at him with undisguised hatred.
‘Tick tock. Tick tock.’
Hogan slowly raised her right arm. Within seconds half a dozen men came running down the stairs from the upper level of the mall and fanned out behind the Navy SEALs, big men carrying an assortment of weapons including Uzis and MAC-10s.
Hogan smiled at Standing. ‘I’ll see your three Sig Sauers and I’ll raise you a hell of a lot of firepower,’ she said. ‘Now hand me that evidence bag and step outside.’
Standing shook his head. ‘I’m not going anywhere with you,’ he said. ‘If you want to kill me you’re going to have to do it here. And we’ll fight back, and that’ll cause so much damage the cops will come.’
‘I know, and they’ll check the CCTV. But if you do that, you and Bobby-Ray and the lovely Kaitlyn will be dead.’
Outside the shop, the heavily armed new arrivals were taking the Sig Sauers off the Navy SEALs.
‘We’ll be dead anyway if we go with you,’ said Standing. ‘You can’t afford to leave us alive.’
‘Let’s take this one step at a time, shall we?’ said Hogan.
‘You leave my sister alone!’ shouted Bobby-Ray. He roared and lunged at Hogan but one of the heavies clubbed his gun against the back of his head and he fell to his knees.
‘We’re not going anywhere, Faith,’ said Standing quietly. ‘Because if we walk out of here, we’re dead.’
‘Oh, you’re going,’ said Hogan. ‘You’re walking out with us or you’ll be carried out, but you’re going.’
The man behind Standing prodded him in the back with his gun. Standing started to count under his breath. One. Two.
‘We don’t have all night,’ said Hogan.
Bobby-Ray got to his feet, shaking his head.
Three. Four. Five. Standing knew he had to fight. If he left with the Russians, he was a dead man. Better to die fighting than to be shot in the back of the head.
‘Are you counting?’ asked Hogan. ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’
Six. Seven. Standing’s mind was racing but he couldn’t see that he had any options. Not survivable ones, anyway. Eight, Nine.
Outside the shop, the Russian thug holding Kaitlyn fell to the ground. His gun clattered on the tarmac next to him. His face was a bloody mess. He’d been hit by a large calibre round. Kaitlyn staggered back, her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide with terror.
A second Russian fell. His Uzi clattered on the ground. He juddered once and then went still. There was blood on his chest. Hogan frowned. ‘What the hell?’ she said.
The man at Standing’s shoulder was staring out of the window. Standing elbowed him in the stomach, then backfisted him in the face. Standing grabbed the gun and slammed the butt into his temple. He went down, out cold.
Standing pointed the gun at the remaining heavies. ‘Drop them,’ he said, his finger tightening on the trigger. They did as they were told and raised their hands.
Outside the shop, a third thug went down, his MAC-10 falling from his lifeless fingers. The rest of the Russians dropped their weapons and raised their hands, looking around them fearfully as they tried to work out where the shots were coming from.
Bobby-Ray got unsteadily to his feet. ‘Snipers,’ he said. ‘Fenn brought snipers.’
‘I don’t think they came with the SEALs,’ said Standing. Hogan was staring out of the window, clearly confused by what was happening.
A convoy of black vehicles sped along the road and came to a halt at the entrance of the mall. There were five SUVs with tinted windows and two windowless vans. The side doors of the vans slid open and men in overalls rushed out. Men in suits carrying Glocks piled out of the SUVs. Within seconds, the men in overalls had carried the Russians who had been shot into the van.
Three of the suits came into the shop, grabbed the Russians there and bundled them out. Two men in overalls came in and picked up the man that Standing had knocked out. They dragged him outside, zip-tied him, then carried him over to the vans.
Standing went outside. ‘Who are you?’ he asked one of the men, but he was ignored.
The guys in suits quickly and efficiently zip-tied the wrists of the surviving Russians. Their weapons were loaded into one of the SUVs, which quickly drove off, and the zip-tied heavies were put into the vans with their dead colleagues. The side doors slid closed and the vans sped off down the road accompanied by two of the SUVs.
Hogan walked out of the shop, frowning in confusion.
Fenn, McNally and Farrant picked up their Sig Sauers and stared after the departing vehicles. ‘What the fuck just happened?’ asked Fenn.
There were two SUVs still parked at the side of the road. The front passenger door of the lead vehicle opened and a man climbed out. He was in his late fifties but still fit, with a strong jaw that he
jutted up as he walked over to the left-luggage outlet. He was wearing a dark-blue blazer, a pale-blue shirt and a dark-blue tie with black stripes. His shoes were tasselled, the black leather gleaming as if they had just been polished.
The three Navy SEALs moved to block his way.
‘Who are you?’ asked Fenn, his gun down at his side.
‘That’s not really your business, son,’ said the man.
Fenn gestured with his gun. ‘You should just turn around and get back in your car, old man. You’ve no idea who you’re messing with.’
The man’s eyes tightened a fraction, but he continued to smile. He had a chunky gold ring on his right ring finger and a Rolex Submariner watch on his left wrist. ‘You’d be wrong there, son,’ he said. ‘I know exactly who I’m messing with. You’re Petty Officer Second Class Stephen Fenn, a valued member of SEAL Team Six. Your colleagues are John McNally and Simon Farrant, and gentlemen, I would like to thank you all for your service and I admire the way you stepped up to help a friend and former SEAL. But your work here is done and it’s time for you to drive back to Coronado.’
Fenn frowned. His gun was still pointing at the ground, but he began to raise it.
‘Just in case you’re thinking of getting physical in any way, I suggest you take a look at those green dots dancing on your chest,’ said the man amiably.
Fenn looked down and his eyes narrowed when he saw the two green dots over his heart. They were joined by a third.
Fenn looked up at the adjoining building but couldn’t see the snipers.
‘It would obviously be very awkward indeed if this should escalate, Petty Officer Fenn. You can trust me, Bobby-Ray is in good hands.’
Two men in dark suits were walking purposefully over from the SUVs. They were in their mid-thirties and had the look of men who had served in special forces.
Fenn looked over at Standing, but Standing was equally confused.
‘Who are you with?’ asked Standing.
‘That’s really no concern of yours, Mr Standing,’ said the man. ‘But I’d like to think that I was a friend of Daniel Shepherd and if he was here I’m sure he’d happily vouch for me.’ He held out his hand for the evidence bag. ‘I’ll take that if you don’t mind.’ Standing gave it to him and the man slid it into his pocket.
Last Man Standing Page 29