“He’ll never bother anyone again. That I can promise you.”
“Good. Very good. I’m sorry to be so upset; it isn’t you that I’m upset with. I would like to ask you to keep watch over this situation. I will have Ryuki call your Don Bianchi and arrange it. As soon as June is free, I want to be told.”
“I’ll do everything I can.”
The phone line went dead, and Levi figured that conversation could have gone a lot worse than it did. He didn’t know the infamous mob boss, not really, and when it came to a person’s family being in danger, it was hard to guess how that person would react. In Levi’s experience, that reaction was almost never logical.
Levi glanced at his watch and figured Denny would be at the bar. He dialed him up and listened to the phone ring several times and it then went to voice mail. It was a Friday night—Denny was probably swamped.
His phone buzzed almost immediately, and he put it to his ear. “I’m guessing you’re busy tonight.”
The voice that responded wasn’t Denny’s, but Doug Mason’s. “It’s not too bad, I was looking into where Nicholas Anspach disappeared to. You really kicked a hornet’s nest with that kidnapping rescue you pulled off. The FBI folks are buzzing around looking for you; you might want to throw them a bone. But I wouldn’t tell them that Potomac Metals over in Springfield has Anspach’s car and is in the process of shredding it. You’ll be answering questions until you grow old.”
Levi stared at the phone and couldn’t fathom how Mason could know any of this. Even Levi didn’t know what Dino was doing with Anspach’s car.
“I’m sure you’re wondering what my deal is. Let me make it really simple. I’ll clear up this FBI thing for you. All I want you to do is take a quick flight over to Seattle for me.”
“Seattle? What for?”
“Don’t worry about the Wilson girls. They’re going to be fine.”
“Do you know where they are?”
“That doesn’t matter. Focus. Seattle.”
“Why do you want me to go to Seattle?”
“Remember those kids I talked about? Anyway, let me help you out before someone gets a wild hair and puts you on America’s Most Wanted. Think of this as getting what you want by helping me out with this child trafficking problem we have. We have a lead for a West Coast drop, but the drop isn’t the issue. We need to know both who ordered these kids, and who’s responsible for smuggling them into the country.”
“How am I supposed to even know where to start?”
“Lucy will meet you at the terminal in Seattle. She’s spent the last two years prepping for this assignment.”
“And you want me to start after, what, a couple minutes of talking on the phone with you?” Levi replayed the conversation he’d just had with Mister Tanaka. “I have responsibilities I need to take care of, here.”
“First of all, I wouldn’t put you out there unless I knew you could do it. Remember, I’ve been watching you for a long time. And as to your so-called responsibilities, I’ll watch the Wilson girl for you. She’ll be fine. Besides, this shouldn’t take long.”
“This is messed up, and you know it. I barely have an idea who or what you are, and you’re expecting me to just go on your word, buy a ticket, and just see what happens?”
“Ah, you’ve got a point. I’ve been monitoring you for so long, I sometimes forget that you haven’t run a mission yet. This is how it will work. It’s almost eight in the evening. You’ll have an American Airlines ticket waiting for you at Dulles, leaving at five a.m. By then I’ll have smoothed things over with the folks who are looking for you. Lucy is already in the air and will meet you at baggage claim in Seattle. I’ll take care of the rest. It’s as simple as that.”
Levi breathed in the salty air and panned his gaze across the shoreline. “You said the FBI is looking for me? Why hasn’t O’Connor given me a call?”
“His phone accidentally got wiped, and so did your records on the high side computers.”
Levi had heard the term “high side” before. It was what the intelligence community called the computer system that held classified material.
“So, you’ve made me invisible?”
“Not really. Wiping the records on a computer is simple enough, but people have memories. They know you’re out there. I need to make a few calls. Oh, and don’t go back to your hotel. It’s being watched. I assume you didn’t leave anything there you needed, right?”
Levi paced back and forth. “No, I never do. It’s all in my trunk.”
“Good. I’ve got you a room next to the airport. I’ll text you the information. It’s prepaid and they won’t ask for ID.”
Levi stopped, stared at nothing in particular, and shrugged. “Okay, Mason. I’m not sure I believe any of this is legit, but I’ll play. If this works out, I may have some favors to ask.”
“Of course you will. You don’t even have to ask. I’ll work on it and see what can be done.”
The phone went dead, and Levi wondered if Mason could read minds, was nuts, or something in between.
###
Levi squeezed his way through the crowds in the SeaTac airport, following the signs to baggage claim. It took him nearly ten minutes to get through the hordes of people, and it was only then that he realized that it was the weekend just ahead of Thanksgiving. A busy time for travelers, and a time he’d much rather be at home.
Finally, he got to the end of the main terminal and passed a lone security guard in the hallway watching to make sure nobody tried going the wrong way, breaching security.
The baggage claim area was mobbed with people, and just as Levi began wondering how he’d ever find Lucy in this place, the crowd parted. Standing not more than twenty feet away was the tall Asian woman whom he’d now encountered in a handful of different states.
As she walked toward him, he caught the scent of jasmine. He offered to shake her hand but she refused. “I don’t like to be touched. No offense. Did you have any luggage?”
“Hold on a second,” Levi said. “I have no problem with the no-touch thing—that makes things very simple—but I didn’t imagine you kissing me and grabbing my arm back in New York, did I?”
Embarrassment flashed across Lucy’s face, and was quickly replaced by a cocked eyebrow and a frown. “You seem to remember that incident much better than I do. Like I said, I don’t like being touched.”
“But you touching others is okay?”
She ignored the question. “Do you have any luggage you’re waiting on?”
Levi shrugged the black canvas backpack off his shoulder and held it up by its strap. “Everything I have is in here.”
“Then follow me.”
She led him across a sky bridge that eventually brought them to the light rail station. Lucy bought two tickets, and within minutes, they were standing on a crowded train heading north.
Holding onto the loop hanging from to the metal rails bolted onto the ceiling, Levi noticed that Lucy looked distinctly uncomfortable among the people jostling one another in the crowded cabin. Well, at least her no-touching issue wasn’t specific to him.
But he could tell she was genuinely uncomfortable, so he tried distracting her from the inevitable unwanted body contact everyone experienced on a crowded train. “Where are we heading?”
“International District. Into Chinatown. My car is there, and I’ll show you the office.”
“The office?”
Lucy gave him a sly grin. “You’ll see. Doug said he’d have some stuff waiting for you.”
Levi’s interest was piqued.
A voice over the intercom announced Othello Station, Columbia City, then Mount Baker. With each stop, the train grew less crowded and Lucy looked less stressed.
Eventually, the train began to slow and Lucy motioned to the door. “International District, Chinatown” was announced, and when the train doors slid open Levi followed his new partner out of the train and across a business par
k full of modern buildings.
They were in downtown Seattle, a place he’d never before explored, at least not beyond the airport. The smells and scenery were completely different than those in New York. Everything looked new and clean.
They walked past a store called Uwajimaya, where an older Asian man was outside roasting nuts in front of what looked like a Japanese supermarket. But then they stepped into Chinatown, and that’s when things began to look a bit dingier—a bit more like home.
The buildings were older. The streets narrower. The streets signs were all written in both English and Chinese—though as far as Levi could tell, he was the only Anglo in the neighborhood. Still, it was a pleasant area, mostly middle-aged or elderly could be seen walking back and forth for groceries or whatever else people did in this neighborhood.
“You said there’s an office here?” Levi asked in Mandarin, the only Chinese dialect he knew.
Lucy gave him a sidelong glance as they walked through the old neighborhood. She held an amused expression and responded in rapid-fire Mandarin, “I’m impressed. Unlike Mason, who seems to know everything about everyone, I have to wonder why you speak Mandarin. And why do you speak it with a German accent?”
“Well, I might ask why you have a slight Russian accent when you speak English.”
“You first.”
Levi chuckled. “Well, I’m Amish, or at least I grew up that way. And my first language was Pennsylvania Dutch, which has many of the same intonations as German.”
“Huh. I’ve never heard of one of our kind coming from an Amish background. Aren’t you pacifists or something?”
Levi shook his head. “I’m not exactly something my community would approve of. And what about you? It is a Russian accent, isn’t it?”
They crossed Weller Street and ducked into a very narrow side path called Canton Alley.
“I suppose the accent comes from when I was first brought into my husband’s home. He acquired a Russian tutor for me. She taught me English and Japanese.”
“A tutor? How young were you?”
“My parents were very poor farmers in Guangzhou. That was when the construction cranes came in, consuming much of the farmland to sacrifice it for the city. My parents couldn’t afford to feed everyone, so I was ten when my husband bought me.”
Levi was about to say something, but she waved him off.
“It was a good arrangement. My parents could then afford to feed my brothers and sisters, and I had a good life. Especially when we moved to Hong Kong. A life of privilege. Of tutors and training. Little did I understand how useful that would become when my husband was killed by a rival gang member.”
Lucy stopped at a five-story red-brick building that looked abandoned and run-down. Trash littered the alleyway to one side, and the whole area gave off a faint smell of urine. This place looked like any number of locations Levi had been in when he was in Asia. Lucy whispered, “Do you see those three marks on the bricks?”
Levi looked where she pointed. Three small divots marked the age-worn bricks at eye level. Two of the indentations had a glassy sheen to them.
“This is the entrance to the office. Using both eyes, look into the lenses.”
Levi put his face up to the wall, almost as if giving the bricks a kiss. And as soon as he was within inches, he saw something flicker behind the clear dime-sized glass lenses and heard a metallic click.
Lucy pushed at the bricks, and they swung open noiselessly on a hidden hinge. They stepped inside, and the wall closed behind them.
Levi found himself at the end of a long, brightly lit, white corridor. An armed guard stood at the other end of the hallway behind what looked like bullet-proof glass with a slit for his MP5 submachine gun.
“Follow me,” Lucy walked past the guard whose face was frozen into an expression of indifferent malice.
They both stood side by side in front of a blank wall while a series of lights scanned them both from shoulder to forehead and back down again. With a soft metallic click and a whir, the wall in front of them lowered until it was flush with the floor, revealing another short corridor. This corridor led to a plain room with a table and a row of tall, gym-style lockers.
Lucy motioned toward the lockers. “One of those is for you.”
“What is this place?” Levi asked.
Lucy sat at the table and stretched her arms above her into a languid and alluring pose. “It’s kind of hard to explain. We’re part of a thing that doesn’t have a name, but over the last couple years, I’ve learned that Doug’s reach is kind of astounding. In fact, I’ve never met another person who works for him, except for you. But”—she motioned toward the lockers—“it seems he has more than just us. I’ve only met with Mason in person a handful of times, including yesterday. Usually, when he needs to get me something, he texts me and I’ll go into the local office and something will be waiting for me in my locker.”
“So there’s lockers in New York as well?”
Lucy crossed her legs, and Levi struggled to keep his eyes on her face. “So far, I know about the offices in DC, New York, and here in Seattle. For all I know, that’s the only drop-off points there are, or maybe he has them everywhere. I just don’t know.” She motioned toward the lockers. “Anyway, let’s get a move on. We’re just here so you can pick up whatever he left for you.”
Levi turned to the wall of lockers. Each had a digital nameplate on them that was full of X’s, except for two: one with Lucy’s name, one with his. As he stepped toward his locker, a light flash on either side of the nameplate, and with a metallic snick, the door opened.
On the shelf at the top lay a pair of night-vision binoculars, a Glock 19 with an in-waistband holster, two fifteen-round magazines, a few boxes of nine-millimeter ammo, a manila folder, and a money clip.
Levi thumbed through the wad of cash, then held it up. “This pretty normal?”
“Twenty-five hundred dollars, each and every time.”
There was one more thing in the locker. In the open space below the shelf was a large guitar case. “A guitar?” Levi said.
“I doubt it. Open it, and let’s see.”
Levi pulled the case out of the locker, popped it open and smiled.
It was a rifle—and not just any rifle. The barrel was twenty inches long, and it came with a heavy bipod attached to the front, a muzzle brake, a long silencer, and a top-of-the-line Leupold scope. A sticky note on the barrel said it was zeroed to one hundred yards.
Levi ratcheted the bolt action on the rifle. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Exactly. This action moves like it’s slicked down with butter.” He gave Lucy a crooked smile. “This is a top-grade sniper rifle.” He checked one of the boxes of ammo and noted the handwritten characteristics. “It’s a .308, and Mason’s given us subsonic rounds.”
Lucy walked over and gave an approving nod as she dragged her finger lightly over the gun’s barrel. “This’ll be useful. I figure since part of this trip will be in the woods, we might need something to kill a bear, moose or maybe Bigfoot.”
Levi admired the gun one last time before putting it back in the case. “Well, I don’t know about Bigfoot, but this rifle is a beauty.”
“Smart that it was packed in a modified guitar case,” Lucy said. “On the Seattle streets, even in Chinatown, it would be a bit much to be seen carrying that slung over your shoulder or even in a normal gun case.”
Levi turned his attention to the manila folder. Inside was a single sheet of paper: a photocopy of an incident report. Levi skimmed through it.
Approximately one-hundred surveillance photos of a woman who has been identified as Helen Wilson were found in Nicholas Anspach’s residence, located in the nightstand of the master bedroom. These photographs were taken with what we believe to be a long-range zoom from an elevation of approximately fifteen feet.
A Bushmaster .223 rifle was also found in Anspach’s garage.
It has a sixteen-inch barrel with a one in nine-inch twist. Several boxes of fifty-five grain .223 subsonic ammunition were also found. One box is missing ten rounds. The magazine in the gun has seven rounds.
In the attic, a box of ballistics gel finger molds was found. Prints were taken and run through IAFIS. Most had no match, but one print came back with an identification hit: Giancarlo Fiorucci.
Levi gritted his teeth. It now made sense why Gino had looked at him like he was crazy when he squeezed him about the black car. So many things made sense, now.
He closed his eyes and replayed in his mind what Anspach had said when he brought up the black SUV.
“Levi, I’m not at all familiar with the case, but if you have those security tapes, we have people here who specialize in enhancing video images. You never know, we might be able to get a license plate.”
The bastard must have gotten cold feet, trashed his own car, and laid the blame on some random guy who just happened to be a Mafia associate. It made a good story. But the pictures of Helen at his home and in his office told a different story. He was obsessed with the redhead.
Levi flipped the report over and continued reading.
Approximately 1350 grams of C-4 were recovered from a toolbox in Anspach’s garage. Trace composition analysis confirmation is pending, but preliminary results show it to be a match for the explosives used in the Wei/Nguyen bombing.
He grabbed the phone out of his pocket, dialed a number and almost immediately Dino answered. “Hey, what’s up?”
“How’s our guy?”
“He’s ready when you need him.”
“Good. It’ll be soon.”
“Gotcha.”
Levi hung up and smiled.
“That’s a smile that tells me someone’s going to die,” Lucy remarked matter-of-factly.
He turned to her. “So, what’s our next move?”
Lucy picked up the guitar case by its handle. “We’re off to Frost Creek, which is about three hours by car. Then we’ve got some off-roading to do.”
Levi couldn’t remember seeing that name on any map of this area. “I assume you’re going to fill me in on the details on the way there?”
The Inside Man Page 20