The Hunter v-1

by Tom Wood

  ‘Have you heard anything about the police finding her body?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then think again.’

  Sykes couldn’t keep still. His fists were clenched down by his sides, knuckles white. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘He didn’t find her,’ Ferguson said.

  Sykes was as confused as he looked. ‘What?’

  Ferguson explained it for him. ‘Either he contacted her first or perhaps she contacted him, but that hardly matters. What matters is she realized she’d become a target so agreed to meet him.’

  ‘But why? And how did she know before Reed got to her?’

  ‘Because she’s smart. Tell me if I’m wrong, but that’s why we used her.’

  ‘Yeah, but…’

  ‘Maybe she’s smarter than we thought. Maybe Kennard made a mistake and revealed his identity, so when he died she put two and two together. Or either of them could have become suspicious and deliberately broken protocol. Who knows?’

  ‘I guess that makes sense.’

  ‘So,’ Ferguson continued, ‘she runs to her cousin’s apartment in Paris, unaware that we know about it. She’s frightened; she doesn’t know what to do; she’s got nowhere else to turn, and so she goes to Tesseract for help. Maybe offering to tell him what she knows if he gives her the drive. Either he’s desperate and agrees or goes there to kill her and changes his mind and they decide to work together. She knows more, he’s more capable, so each can help the other. I would say that’s a pretty shrewd course of action.’

  Sykes frowned hard. He’d been frowning a lot recently. ‘So what are we going to do?’

  ‘We sit back and wait,’ Ferguson said with annoying calm. ‘Either Tesseract will kill her as a precaution or maybe just for revenge once she’s no longer useful. That’ll solve one little problem if nothing else. Then Tesseract will disappear with the flash drive, and we’ll never hear from him again. We won’t get the missiles and we won’t get rich, but we’ll get to keep our freedom. Considering everything that’s happened so far I would consider that a victory.’

  ‘Or?’

  Ferguson walked out of the hall and into the spacious kitchen. Sykes followed.

  ‘Drink?’ Ferguson asked.

  ‘I’ll take a beer,’ Sykes answered after a second’s deliberation.

  Ferguson’s thick eyebrows moved closer together. ‘I was thinking more like juice or water.’

  ‘I’ll skip then.’

  ‘Suit yourself,’ Ferguson said. He opened the fridge and took out a carton of grapefruit juice. He poured himself a tall glass. ‘Or,’ he continued eventually, ‘they’ll contact us and try and do a deal. I think this is more likely. They’ll offer us the information if we leave them alone.’

  Sykes exhaled heavily. ‘Okay. And if they do, will we?’

  Ferguson looked shocked. ‘Of course not, you idiot. Where’s your head? No, we won’t leave them alone. If we do this right we can manipulate their coming together to give us an opportunity to take them both out and retrieve the drive in one go. We get our hands on those missiles and come out cleanly.’

  ‘You really think we can still pull this off with everything that’s happened?’

  Ferguson stared at him with something approaching disgust. ‘I’ve got myself out of deeper holes than this, Mr Sykes, and still managed to smell of roses.’

  ‘What about Alvarez?’

  The old CIA man sighed as though the whole conversation was beginning to bore him. ‘Alvarez is nothing more than a Boy Scout. I’ve never thought particularly highly of him. All he does is follow the path of least resistance. Look, what’s just happened is actually a good thing for us in a way. It’ll give the idiots in the department some more wild geese to chase. And all the while they’re being led further and further away from us. If Procter, Chambers, and Alvarez had a brain between them they would be looking for how someone could have found out about Ozols in the first place. Instead they’re trying to do things the other way around. They’ll never get anywhere that way. So keep your cool and this will all be over soon enough. And, with a bit of luck, when it is, there will be tens of millions of dollars waiting in numbered accounts for us both. I take it you still want to be rich? I know I do.’

  Sykes nodded his agreement. ‘I was thinking,’ he said, ‘it’s almost a shame we’ve got to kill Tesseract. I mean, the fact that he’s come this far shows how good he is. We could really use him on our team, couldn’t we? He’d make a great asset. Maybe we could bring him on our side.’

  ‘I’ll forget you said that.’

  Sykes swallowed the dry nothing from his throat. ‘Sorry.’

  Ferguson glared at him. ‘Have I not taught you anything, Mr Sykes? Never apologize. Ever. At worst it’s an admission of culpability, at best it just makes you look like a fucking chump.’

  CHAPTER 53

  London, United Kingdom

  Tuesday

  13:56 CET

  Rebecca sat on a comfortable leather sofa in the reception area of Hartman and Royce Equity Investments, feeling a little nervous but confident those nerves weren’t showing. Seif’s company was located on the nineteenth floor of the striking Canary Wharf tower — fifty storeys of glass and steel that loomed over the rest of London’s skyline. The view was stunning. Rebecca concentrated on the glittering flow from the reception area’s tranquil water feature and let the hypnotic reflection of light relax her.

  The click of heels caused Rebecca to turn her head. Approaching her was the receptionist, Melanie, a stunning brunette with a delightfully friendly manner and a porn star’s physique squeezed into a flattering pinstripe. Melanie had greeted Rebecca courteously, all big white smiles and practised small talk, insisting on fixing her a coffee while she waited. Rebecca found it very hard to say no to her.

  Melanie offered the espresso in a small china cup with a saucer. Rebecca took it and wasn’t surprised to find Melanie made a killer espresso. Strong with just a hint of bitterness. Rebecca couldn’t remember having a better one.

  ‘That’s fantastic, thank you.’

  ‘My pleasure.’ Melanie’s glossy lips formed a smile. ‘Anything else you fancy, just let me know.’

  While Melanie walked back to her desk, stilettos clicking and a certain strut to her walk, Rebecca wondered whether there was more to the offer than the obvious. No, couldn’t be.

  ‘She seems friendly,’ the voice in her ear said.

  Rebecca brought the espresso cup to her mouth. ‘Very.’

  ‘I think she likes you.’

  ‘You jealous?’

  She took a sip while she waited for his reply.

  ‘Of what?’ he asked after a moment.

  ‘Nothing, it was a joke.’

  ‘I don’t get it.’

  She sighed. ‘Never mind.’

  ‘Don’t get on too well with her. We want her to forget you the second you walk out the door.’

  ‘Got it.’

  Rebecca sipped her espresso while watching partners and employees exiting the elevator after long lunches. Nobody gave Rebecca a second look as they passed through the reception, sometimes pausing for a word with Melanie on their way through. Rebecca was just another client or visitor. One of dozens of new faces that must appear every day. There was little need to disguise herself.

  His voice came through Rebecca’s earpiece again. ‘Still no sign of him yet.’

  ‘Okay,’ Rebecca said without moving her lips.

  He was outside watching for Seif’s return. He’d been in the area since the morning performing surveillance, observing Seif arriving, leaving for lunch. They’d left Paris in the middle of the night. Tesseract had stolen a car and driven them to Calais, where a ferry had taken them across the Channel. A train had brought them to London. She’d slept during the journey.

  They travelled as a couple, even though her companion wasn’t doing that great a job of pulling it off. Rebecca could tell he was used to operating alone and had limited personal experien
ce to draw on. She was better, helping to pick up his slack, but she could tell he didn’t like the physical contact it entailed. She expected he wasn’t used to people touching him except those he had to pay to. He had tried hard not to let his unease show, and Rebecca did her best not to let on that she noticed.

  He didn’t trust her either, that was obvious, even if she had shown herself an ally, and it was hard to be a convincing couple when one partner was constantly looking out for signs of betrayal. Well, maybe looking out for signs of betrayal was part of being in a relationship, but Rebecca imagined most men worried more about their partners cheating than organizing their deaths. Thankfully the situation was only temporary. Rebecca wasn’t exactly keen on his company either.

  It was clear he disliked everything about what he was doing too, even if he didn’t explicitly say. All his actions were controlled, and she knew that rushing his work was something he usually did everything to avoid. He preferred to plan his actions meticulously, the kind of operator who’d learned a long time ago that the more time spent on the drawing board, the fewer surprises in the field. Now he had to operate with half the facts in a quarter of the time.

  His voice came through the earpiece again. ‘Okay, he’s walking through the lobby now.’

  ‘Gotcha.’

  Two twenty PM and the elevator doors opened. A large man stepped out, his considerable bulk encased in a tight-fitting navy blue suit. He had a square face and a flattened, off-centre nose, the legacy of a life of brawls. He wore a serious expression that matched his very serious build. Rebecca noticed he was wearing a gun under the left arm of his suit. In Britain he wouldn’t be able to carry it legally, bodyguard or not. Tut, tut.

  Following him came a man she recognized instantly as Elliot Seif. He was short and thin and looked just like he did in the Web site picture. His skin was heavily wrinkled and looked as if it didn’t get to see much of the sun. What was left of his hair was combed over to the side. He carried a black leather laptop case.

  After Seif came a second bodyguard, similarly sized and dressed as the first. Seif acted as though they weren’t there, simply chatting away on his cell. The bodyguards walked at his pace, stopping when he stopped to exchange a few words with the receptionist, keeping his phone muffled against his chest as he gazed adoringly at her. Melanie flirted with him shamelessly.

  Rebecca could feel the eyes of the bodyguards skim over her quickly, but she continued to read through the latest copy of National Geographic as if she didn’t even know they were there. The article on elephant-seal migration patterns was fascinating, if a little on the condescending side.

  Leaving Melanie faking a laugh, Seif continued on his way between his bodyguards. It was quite a statement to have not one but two personal bodyguards. Seif evidently felt a considerable need to protect himself, or perhaps they were there more for show. Rebecca thought they probably made a good impression on certain less-desirable clients who no doubt had bodyguards themselves.

  As soon as they had left she stood and turned towards the receptionist.

  ‘Restroom?’

  Melanie pointed in the direction Seif had gone. It was the only corridor. ‘That way, third door on the left — it’s marked.’

  Rebecca smiled. ‘Thank you.’

  She walked with brisk, long strides, heading down the corridor, reaching the corner in time to see Seif and his bodyguards enter the last office at the end of the hall. The second bodyguard took up position outside the door, adopting a comfortable pose, legs slightly apart, hands clasped before him.

  She imagined that while Seif was in his office there would always be a bodyguard outside the door. He looked Rebecca’s way but she was already heading into the restroom.

  Back in the foyer Melanie caught her attention.

  ‘Ms Oswald,’ she began, showing an earnest look, ‘I’ve just had Mr Brice on the phone. I’m afraid he’s been unavoidably detained and won’t be back today. He apologizes profusely for the inconvenience.’

  Rebecca looked disappointed. ‘That’s a shame.’

  ‘Mr Brice wonders if you’ll be able to reschedule for later in the week.’

  ‘I’m flying back to New York tomorrow so that won’t be possible.’ She paused for a second, pretending to think. ‘But when I’m here next month I’ll make sure to book another appointment.’

  Melanie nodded. ‘Okay, I’ll let Mr Brice know.’

  ‘Good-bye.’

  ‘Good-bye, Ms Oswald.’

  Rebecca noticed her expression change as Melanie slipped out of receptionist mode and into her real self. ‘And maybe when you’re here next I can show you around the city. There are some fantastic sights to see.’

  Rebecca nodded, slowly, uncomfortably. ‘I can imagine.’

  She headed to the rendezvous point, a bar/cafe alongside the plaza outside Seif’s building. There were maybe a dozen tables outside and probably a dozen more between the plate-glass windows that served as the shop front. All the tables seemed to be occupied, men in suits, women in suits, the odd casually dressed person looking severely out of place and feeling it.

  She’d tried to spot him as she approached, and even standing right outside didn’t help. He’d specifically said he would be on a table out front. For a long horrible moment she thought they’d got to him, and she looked around frantically, sure she would be next. But instead she saw him nursing an espresso with a copy of some London newspaper open next to his cup. He hadn’t seen her; his focus was purely on the newspaper, and she was glad he hadn’t seen her panicking. She didn’t call or gesture to get his attention, but stood observing him for a moment, enjoying the rare feeling of watching him in secret.

  He turned over a page, took a sip of his coffee. She was surprised to find he looked so normal sitting alone with his newspaper, no different from the city workers surrounding him. In the sunlight he was even handsome.

  Rebecca reminded herself he was quite literally the exact opposite of normal and made her way between the tightly packed tables and people. She sat down across from him. A steaming espresso was waiting for her.

  ‘Why were you watching me like that?’ he asked without looking up.

  ‘Oh, uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to. It’s just I didn’t see you straight away.’

  ‘If you had I’d need to consider changing my profession.’

  She wasn’t sure if it was a joke or if he were serious. He tilted his head up to look at her. His expression showed nothing. It never did. He was as close to inanimate as she imagined a person could be.

  ‘Seif takes his computer out to lunch with him,’ she said.

  ‘Then he’ll take it everywhere.’

  Rebecca said, ‘I think you can rule out the office as a strike point.’

  ‘Elaborate.’

  ‘There are a lot of employees and one of his bodyguards stands outside his office door, and he’s not going to let you past in a hurry. I’m sure you could force your way, but if anyone else enters the corridor, which is highly likely, they’re going to see the two-hundred-plus pounds of meathead lying slumped on the floor.’

  ‘I wouldn’t do it that way, but my way wouldn’t be easy. The same bodyguard won’t be posted there all day. The tedium would make him lose focus. They’ll rotate, probably once every couple of hours. If they’re smart, these times will seemingly be irregular and changed on a daily basis. There’s no way of anticipating a changeover. How did Seif’s bodyguards behave inside the office?’

  ‘Alert, watchful, even with a hot receptionist to stare at.’

  He nodded. ‘They evidently paid attention during their protection class about the danger of complacency in familiar environments. If they didn’t let their guard down in the office they won’t anywhere.’

  ‘Then they’re good.’

  He shrugged. ‘They’re good and bad. Big and scary is great for pushing through crowds but makes them bulky and slow, but while they look like dumb apes they’re armed and very observant. Seif didn’t hire them
just for show.’

  ‘You saw that they were carrying?

  He nodded, showing no surprise, no alarm, nothing.

  ‘Handguns?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes,’ he answered. ‘What were they wearing under their raincoats?’

  ‘Suits.’ She smiled. ‘You looking for fashion tips?’

  ‘What kind of fit?’

  ‘You are looking for fashion tips.’

  ‘Loose, tight, what?’

  ‘Tight enough to need repairing if they bend over too fast.’

  He nodded.

  ‘Is that good?’ Rebecca asked.

  ‘It might help.’

  ‘Listen, I really think this is a bad idea. If it was just Seif it would be different, but these two guys change everything. They’re like hawks, big mean hawks with guns. You won’t get near him without them making you.’

  ‘If Seif is a target of the clean-up, I’ll have to take any opportunity that comes my way. Seif owns a London apartment as well as the mansion in Surrey, right?’

  ‘Right. We’re going to have to split up,’ she said. ‘I’ll reconnoitre his apartment, you his house. If he turns up at the apartment, I can call you. Either way, you can avoid the bodyguards. Stealth it.’

  ‘And how are your breaking and entering skills?’

  She sighed. ‘Okay, good point. But what are we going to do now? We didn’t anticipate he would have two armed guards.’

  She took a sip of her espresso. It wasn’t a match for Melanie’s.

  The man she knew only as Tesseract said, ‘When you’ve finished that, I want you to wait a little while and get yourself a large cappuccino or something that you can drink slowly while you keep watch. Let me know the second you see him leave. If he does, phone his office and ask to speak to him. They should tell you if he’s coming back or not. If he’s not, try and follow him, but better you lose him than one of his bodyguards sees you.’

  ‘Okay, but where are you going?’