by Ty Patterson
‘Zeb! She’s the biggest pop star in the world,’ and then she punched him in the arm when he smiled briefly.
‘Beth, Meghan, they listen to her. Call her.’
‘Call?’ she frowned. ‘But what about —’
‘It’s time to stop hiding.’
Chapter Thirty-Three
Nikolai wasn’t a happy man. He had watched, horrified, as the ad campaigns ran. Vasily tried to interrupt him a few times and slunk away when the Russian swore savagely.
The sisters had outwitted him. It galled him. It also scared him. He had been careless in his early years. Power and money had swayed his head. He had tied up as many loose ends as possible, but there were still a few in America who had heard of him or met him.
Hidalgo, for example. Thinking through all his dealings and the people he had met, he calmed himself with the thought, they don’t know anything about me other than my name.
He didn’t know how the Petersen women had known of Russian involvement.
And then he thought of Grigor Andropov. There had to be a connection.
The phone on his desk rang, the sound chilling him.
Only one man had that number.
His sponsor, his protector, in the Kremlin.
‘Da,’ he said, trying to sound confident, then fell silent as the tirade began.
‘I will make it right,’ he told the man when the angry words stopped. ‘But I need your help.’
He winced when another flood started. He held the phone away from his ear and waited for the man to draw a breath.
And said just one sentence.
‘I need Razor.’
He summoned Vasily when he hung up. ‘Those bids on those two sisters. Did you accept any?’
‘No,’ the hacker said, moistening his lips nervously. ‘You told me to —’
‘Don’t take any bid. Let the game run.’
‘But those sums will keep going up,’ Vasily protested. ‘We have to accept a bid. There’s a timeline.’
‘We’re changing the rules. We won’t take any bid. The players will think they are still competing with each other.’
‘What happens to the characters?’
‘There’s another player. He will take care of them.’
‘No one new has registered,’ Vasily frowned.
‘This one does not sign up.’ Nikolai grinned wolfishly, his confidence returning. Razor never failed.
‘What about Angie Konstantin?’
‘Are there any bids on her?’
‘Yes, a Mexican shooter.’
‘Accept it.’
Hidalgo called on the fourth day of the ads, by which time there were some leads the sisters were pursuing.
‘There’s someone who wants to meet you,’ the fence told them.
‘We’ll only meet Nikolai.’ Meghan twirled a curl of hair and mouthed Hidalgo at her sister.
‘You have to meet this man,’ the fence said urgently. ‘He is taking a huge risk in coming out.’
‘Coming out of where?’
‘To meet you.’
They met Hidalgo and his mysterious contact in a crowded fast-food joint in Queens that evening.
They had made the fence drive to several restaurants before finally giving him the correct location.
Less time to set a trap, Meghan thought, as they waited in their SUV and watched the establishment’s entrance.
‘You’re in place?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Bwana chuckled in her earpiece.
He and Roger cased the rear of the restaurant, while Bear and Chloe were slouched down in another vehicle at the front. The four of them would come crashing, ready for war, at the slightest sign of trouble.
An hour later, Hidalgo showed up. By his side was a figure wearing a raincoat, even though there was no sign of rain.
Meghan raised her binos but couldn’t make out his face.
‘Where are you?’ Hidalgo demanded on her phone.
‘Who’s with you?’
‘He’s … you’re watching me?’
‘Of course, we are,’ Meghan snorted.
‘He’s the one who wants to meet you.’
‘You’re good to go,’ Bwana rumbled in her earpiece. ‘No heavies. No shooters. I miss the days when we had someone to kill.’
Beth entered the establishment first and waited by the door, checking out the interior.
Meghan joined her after a while, and they headed to where the fence sat, the second man with his back to the entrance.
Beth sat next to the stranger, while the older sister slid beside the fence.
‘Look under the table,’ Meghan commanded.
Hidalgo snuck a peek. His face turned red. ‘You have guns on us.’
‘Yeah. We’ll use them, too, if this is a trap.’
‘My customers are deserting me,’ the fence said through gritted teeth. ‘My network knows I moved weapons for Nikolai. Your ads have scared my clients. I should be holding guns on you.’
‘Try it and see where it gets you,’ Beth glared at him.
‘Felix,’ the stranger broke his silence. ‘Let’s tell them and get out of here.’
His voice was rusty, as if speech were alien to him. His eyes were dark and still, his head shorn of all hair. A graying stubble on his chin, hands spread on the table, nails clean.
Calluses on the sides of his hands, Meghan noticed.
Hidalgo breathed deeply, controlling himself. He nodded his head at the stranger.
‘Meet Francis Jurado. He is dead.’
Chapter Thirty-Four
‘Dead?’ Beth blurted.
‘That’s what the world thinks.’ Hidalgo’s face lightened at the surprise on her face.
‘Spill,’ Meghan commanded.
‘I was Nikolai’s man,’ Jurado said, looking around casually.
He’s sweeping the place. Sectioning it. Taking in everything, the way we do, Meghan thought. He is no low-level heavy.
‘What do you mean by that?’ her sister asked.
‘I was his trouble-shooter. I made his problems go away.’
Hidalgo leaned forward to whisper, ‘Jurado was Nikolai’s killer.’ He shrank and raised a hand placatingly when still eyes bored through him.
‘What Hidalgo said,’ the shooter continued, when the fence stayed quiet. He had no accent; his English was good. ‘A client didn’t pay on time, I reminded him. A customer backed out of a deal, I backed him out of life. I enforced Nikolai’s reputation.’
‘So, what happened? Why aren’t you working with him still?’
‘Nikolai was getting out of the arms business. He had some loose ends. He asked me to take care of them.’
‘And then?’
‘He sent Razor after me.’
‘Razor?’ both sisters asked simultaneously.
‘You haven’t heard of him?’
‘No.’ Beth replied.
‘That’s because he is the best killer I have come across. He never fails. He’s Russian. Based in New York. He serves his master in Moscow. No one knows who that is.’
‘Not Nikolai?’
‘No, even Nikolai can’t afford him.’
‘Why did he send this Razor after you?’ Meghan tried to make sense of what Jurado was revealing.
‘I told you,’ the shooter said impatiently. ‘Nikolai didn’t want anyone alive who could recognize him. I was one of them.’
‘He left Hidalgo alive.’
‘That’s because Felix does business with cartels as well. No one wants to deal with them. Besides Felix has a stand-up reputation.’
Meghan snorted.
‘Is true,’ Hidalgo insisted and subsided into silence at a glare from Jurado.
Beth put on a smile as a server approached, took their orders and went away. ‘Why are you telling us all this?’
‘Because you poked the bear,’ the fence snarled. He looked around hastily and lowered his voice. ‘There’s a good chance Nikolai will send Razor after you. It is possible he will come after me, too,
and Jurado.’
‘He left you alone all this time,’ Beth said, not hiding her disbelief.
‘This time is different.’ Hidalgo shook his head vehemently, his command over his language slipping, revealing his fear and frustration. ‘You are ruining his business with these ads. He doesn’t care anymore.’
‘He doesn’t know about Jurado.’
‘Razor will finish you, first. Then come after me. He will torture me. I won’t be able to hold back about Francis.’
Beth considered the men in front of them. Hidalgo’s fear was palpable. Jurado was more composed, but a muscle twitched in his cheek.
‘Razor never fails, and yet here you are?’
The killer waited for the server to lay out their order and took a pull on his drink.
‘We had finished moving a shipment from Hidalgo’s warehouse on the river. Everyone had gone. It was raining. I was running to my car when he came out of nowhere. A shadow wearing a raincoat. I had never seen him before, but I had heard of him. I realized why he was there. I brought up my gun. He moved so fast, the next thing I knew I was on my back, a knife in my side. He stood over me and shot me twice in the chest. I lost consciousness. He probably thought I was dead, because next thing I know, Hidalgo is leaning over me.’
‘That was the final shipment,’ the fence took over. ‘I had forgotten something at the warehouse and hurried back. Found Francis. He was barely alive. I knew what had happened. Dragged him away, put him in a safe house, and when he recovered, gave him a new identity.’
‘Jurado isn’t your real name?’
‘No,’ the killer eyed a customer who had come too close to their table. The look was enough. The man walked away hastily. ‘I had another name.’
‘What?’
‘It doesn’t matter. That life is behind me.’
‘You have turned into a saint?’
‘No. But I don’t break the law anymore, if that’s what you are asking.’
‘What do you do now?’
‘I build houses. Help in charities.’
Beth stared at him skeptically.
Jurado looked back impassively. ‘It was me who asked Felix to set up this meeting. You should know who is coming after you.’
‘You don’t look scared.’
‘I lived a particular life,’ the killer shrugged. ‘Dying was an everyday possibility.’
‘We can call the cops, you know,’ Meghan sucked her drink noisily and flashed a smile when a family looked their way. ‘Have you arrested before you leave this joint.’
‘For what?’
‘You confessed to being a killer.’
‘It’s your word against mine.’
‘We are recording this.’
‘You are not,’ the killer moved, held his left arm placatingly when the sisters pointed their guns at him beneath the table. He brought out a device with his right hand. ‘A jammer. It interferes with any listening device’s frequency. Even your phone’s.’
Maybe he is who he claims to be, Meghan thought with reluctant admiration.
‘What does Razor look like?’
‘I never saw his face, but from what I have heard, he is my height. Close-cropped hair. Black eyes. Clean-shaven. No marks on his face.’
‘You just described hundreds of thousands of men in this city.’
‘That’s one reason he’s successful.’
Jurado rose. Hidalgo followed suit. The meeting was over.
‘Wait,’ Meghan stopped them. ‘Why should we believe you?’
The killer removed a transparent foil from his right thumb and pressed the digit against a glass.
‘Run that print. It will take you to a murder that was never solved. A gangbanger who had lived too long.’
Chapter Thirty-Five
The sisters sat in silence for several moments after Jurado and Hidalgo had left.
‘What do you make of that?’ Beth swirled the remains of her drink and swallowed the last sip.
‘Why would he make that up?’ Meghan said slowly.
Beth scrunched her face, thinking, and then shook her head. ‘Beats me.’
‘We have to assume that was the truth. That print should be easy enough to run.’ The elder sister raised her hand for the check and paid it when the server arrived. ‘As if these attacks weren’t enough, we now have a mysterious Russian killer to deal with. Someone who reports to yet another shadowy person. Did I tell you everything about this case sucks?’
‘About a million times.’
‘We have to tell Zeb.’
Zeb listened silently when Beth narrated their meeting with Hidalgo and Jurado.
‘Razor?’
‘Yeah. You’ve heard of him?’
‘Nope. He’s not lying.’
‘Who? Jurado?’
‘Yeah.’
‘That’s what we figured, too.’
‘Be careful.’
‘Yeah —’
A startled exclamation stopped her. Angie’s voice. That’s all? Be careful! they heard her say.
‘She’s listening in?’ Beth asked, astonished.
‘Yes. You’re on speaker.’
‘Why?’
‘She said she would start talking if I didn’t.’
The sisters looked at one another, astounded, and burst into laughter. Fearless Zeb scared by Angie Konstantin’s threat of conversation.
‘You are not in the house?’ Meghan asked him, still chuckling.
‘Nope.’
‘You’re planning something?’
‘Yeah.’
Angie couldn’t control a shiver when the call ended. ‘Razor. Even that name scares me.’
‘That’s the purpose.’ Zeb slid down his seat until his eyes were level with the window frames of his SUV.
Angie’s call with the pop star had been long. He had motioned her to keep going whenever she came close to hanging up.
He had listened in detachment as the two women caught up. The heiress’s circumstances, Rios’ upcoming tour, labels, dating — the two women covered a lot of ground. It was a full ninety minutes later when Zeb nodded and the call ended.
They were now in his ride, parked on the street well away from the apartment. Clear view of the street, West 144th in Harlem, the spire of a church visible in the distance against the night sky. Unhindered view of the approach to the building.
That call had been seven hours back. It was ten pm now. The city was slowing down. Traffic was easing.
He drank from a bottle of water and offered her another. She shook her head, settled down and closed her eyes.
No complaints from her. Not one question about why we’re doing this.
He had to admit he was liking Angie Konstantin.
The hours rolled on. Zeb didn’t move. He was comfortable. Alert. The night was his.
Until it wasn’t.
They came at two am.
Kloops attacked at the same time. Zeb didn’t know if there was any significance to that.
A large vehicle, resting low on its wheels, rolled up to the building’s drive.
Nothing happened for several moments. Checking out the building, watching for traffic, watching if the parked vehicles in the street are empty.
Zeb was confident they wouldn’t be detected. The SUV had a custom paint job and was layered with enough technology to foil thermal imagers pointed at them.
A whiff of exhaust as the vehicle revved.
Maybe it’s just innocents. Hungover students deciding whether they should break up and go home or continue partying.
A door on his blind side opened, and three pairs of feet emerged.
Three figures darted towards their ground-floor apartment. Dark clothing, their faces shrouded.
Zeb moved only to withdraw his Glock. Heartbeat steady. The woman beside him, asleep, breathing softly.
The sound of breaking glass came to him even through the distance. Something flamed and flew inside.
A Molotov cocktail.
More windows shattered.
Angie jerked awake, her eyes widening, her mouth opening.
He held her arm, calming her, eyes on the intruders who had now disappeared inside the house.
Assault rifles opened up. Lights started turning on in the building. Less than a minute later, the men emerged, hustling towards the waiting vehicle.
Angie shrank in her seat. He could feel her trembling.
‘Can they see us?’ she asked nervously.
‘No.’
Zeb lowered his window just enough to hear angry shouts from the vehicle, and then it burst into motion.
He waited till it turned around a corner and then started his ride.
‘What are you doing?’ Angie clutched at his arm, fear on her face.
‘Got to ask them some questions.’
Chapter Thirty-Six
Meghan’s phone buzzed at the same time that Zeb sped off in pursuit.
She woke instantly, her hand reaching for the Glock by her bed.
Her apartment was empty.
She checked the time. It was late.
Picked up her phone and smothered a groan.
Hidalgo.
‘What?’ she asked angrily.
‘I couldn’t sleep,’ the fence replied. No apology in his voice.
‘So?’
‘There was something else Francis was meaning to tell.’
She sat up straighter, sleep suddenly the furthest thing from her mind.
‘What?’
‘He heard Nikolai on the phone, at the warehouse. The Russian was speaking to someone.’
‘Who?’
‘Francis didn’t get that.’
‘What were they talking about?’
‘Some kind of game.’
‘What?’
‘A game. Video game. You know those things that kids play these days. Always glued to a screen.’
‘Video game?’
‘Yeah. Francis said it surprised him, too. He never figured Nikolai to have an interest in those.’
‘Anything else?’
‘No. I thought you should know. I know it’s not significant …’ Hidalgo trailed off lamely.
‘Felix,’ Meghan cupped her phone between her shoulder and ear and slid into a pair of jeans and a tee. ‘You don’t know how important that was.’