by Michael Todd
“I’d want to know if I was walking into a trap.” He logged into the online auction site that doubled as their host site on which to find clients in need of their services. It was partly because he wanted to make sure their fellow illegal operatives didn’t come within a mile of this contract. But he also wanted to screw the contract initiator who had gotten his friends killed.
And maybe, just maybe, he could find out who the asshole was who actually did the killing.
“How sloshed are you?” Anja asked.
“I only had two drinks,” Savage protested cheerfully, thankful that he was alone in the elevator. “You of all people should know I have a higher tolerance than that.”
“You weren’t drinking on an empty stomach, were you?”
“Please, Anja, it’s like you don’t know me at all.” He grinned. “The hotel has a kitchen too. I had dinner before I went to the bar. Weren’t you keeping an eye on me?”
“I ran an Internet-wide search on any sites that might have issued the contract on your family,” she explained sharply. “I also kept an eye on the developing police case to make sure they haven’t realized that you’re involved in any way, all while also making sure your family is safe from attack. All things considered, I’m running two or three other operations at the same time. I don’t have time to keep an eye on you every second of every day. That, plus the fact that the cameras in the bar and restaurant area are down for repairs and you paid your tab in cash, so I couldn’t be sure what it was that you bought.”
“Huh.” He grunted to conceal his laughter. “So, you’re telling me you tried to keep an eye on me, and when you couldn’t, you decided to do all that other stuff?”
“Shut up,” the hacker retorted. “Stop talking to me while you’re out in the open like that. People might be listening from their rooms and think you’re crazy.”
“We wouldn’t want the truth about me to be out there, now would we?” He grinned but she was right. He kept his voice low when commenting as he headed into his room and locked the door behind him. “Now that it’s only you and me, is there anything you can update me on?”
“Do you really expect to be able to get anywhere near anything you would be able to shoot, stab, or punch?” she asked.
“I’m a nasty kicker too, don’t forget about that.” He drew his pistol from the holster, removed a towel from the duffel bag and laid it out on the bed, then placed his weapons onto it one by one. “I simply thought that you have an innate need to talk while you work, being your own white noise machine like I am, and I wouldn’t mind having my mind eased by knowing what everyone else is up to.”
“Ugh, fine.” She sighed and the soft squeak from her side of the comm line told him she was rocking in her office chair again. “Well, the cops have your family in custody. They’re taking statements, but it doesn’t look like they’ve tried anything along the lines of tying the investigation to whatever ties Andy might or might not have to the mob. Despite the captain’s statement on the news, no one seriously thinks there are any actual gangs involved. I assume that’s mostly because they’ve identified the three men you killed through fingerprinting and have them listed as ex-military from Bosnia, South Africa, and Italy.”
“Mercenaries.” It made sense given the nature of the contract.
“Yep. More importantly, mercenaries whose DNA and fingerprints have been found at a variety of crime scenes across the country, which means they have done considerable work in the US for about five years.”
“Professionals,” Savage concluded and began to take his weapons apart.
“Stop summarizing my updates in one word,” she snapped. “You wanted me to be white noise so I’m being white noise. Do you want me to stop?”
“Nope, by all means, keep talking.” He inspected the pistol and cleaned it carefully. There wasn’t much residue left behind when the needles moved magnetically through the barrel, but this routine was what he’d learned way back when he was taught how to use weapons. There was a sense of ritual to it, he supposed, and found the idea calming.
“Well, I’m facilitating the process of getting your family into protective custody,” Anja said. “Moving it to the top of the pile, as it were. They should have it finalized before the night is over, although they might have to spend the night in the police station to be safe.”
“In the police station is better than dead,” Savage said cheerfully. He hadn’t drunk that much. His steak and fries with a side of salad—none of which had been half bad but not fantastic either—were accompanied by a beer. He’d followed with a double of scotch as a digestif. That was the right word for it, wasn’t it? As a result, he was slightly buzzed, not enough to leave him impaired in any way but he definitely felt more relaxed. He would have growled and rolled his eyes excessively at her antics otherwise.
“Agreed,” the hacker continued. “But there’s only so much I can do on that front from here, so I’ve looked around and…”
She paused and he frowned as he focused on the odd sound that came next and wondered what it was. It sounded like a chuckle but not quite like anything he’d heard from her before.
“What is that?” he asked as he completed his inspection of his revolver and fed the needle strip in. “Are you laughing?”
“Oh yes.” She chortled, a more recognizable sound.
“What are you laughing at?”
“Would you believe me if I said that it was need to know?” she asked. “You tried that shit with me, remember?”
“No, I wouldn’t,” he replied and turned his attention to the shotgun. The routine to clean and oil it was soothing. “And you do remember how well that worked for me, right?”
“Well, let’s be honest.” The hacker paused, still chuckling uncontrollably. “You don’t have anything like my skills at uncovering people’s dirty secrets.”
“Get to the fucking point,” he commanded and this time, he did roll his eyes.
“Ugh, fine.” She groaned. “You’re no fun today, you know that? Give me a few minutes and check your phone. I’m finishing this up. You’ll love it.”
Savage simply nodded. He knew she couldn’t see him but didn’t really feel too charitable toward her at the moment. For a minute or so, he continued to work on the shotgun, then switched to the rifle before his phone buzzed. He leaned over, picked it up gently, and peered at what Anja had texted to him.
“What am I looking at here?” Savage asked when the link directed him to an online auction house.
“You’ll find the capture contract on your family if you put in Andy’s home address in the search bar,” she explained. He did so, his expression one of distaste.
“Nobody buys anything on this site that doesn’t have a picture on it, especially when they have a price that high,” she explained when his search brought up a piece of art that had no image and only the street address named. Mixed into the description, which was longer than it needed to be for that purpose, were the words Capture Alive. It was an interesting system and difficult to penetrate unless you knew what you were looking for.
“Under the description, you can see people asking about the delivery system which is code for the payments and details on the job mercs would be interested in,” she continued. “Look at the bottom—last comment, added less than an hour ago.”
“Huh.” He snorted. “Worried about delivery system. Who is running point on security? And there’s already an answer, but not from the person who posted the contract.”
“That would be me.” She sounded like she was grinning.
“I’m glad to see you’re being professional about it, PainDianaJones.” He chuckled. “And this link you posted…”
“It’s a storage site that holds the resumes of most of the pros in the country,” Anja clarified. “Basically, it’s a way for people in the business of hiring professional criminals to be able to do so across the country with a marginal degree of certainty and verification.”
“And this is…a page fo
r The Savage.” He scanned the variety of operations assigned to his name. “Houston, LA…yeah, I remember those. Rio, Lisboa…uh, I sort of remember those. I don’t think I was ever in Seoul, though. Or Bangkok. Or…most of these countries, actually.”
“In fairness, I managed to make up half the jobs in there based on ones you were actually involved in, either before or after your time in the government. But I felt I had to pad the numbers. I found old pictures of you and altered them slightly to help me with the verifications. It took considerable work, but I think I got the point across. A significant number of people have already checked the details about you and that made sure the whole contract turned radioactive overnight. No one will come forward to fulfill it, and that gives us time to deal with Banks the right way.”
“How sure are you that this will work?” Savage asked. “There have to be some people who can verify whether or not I was on certain jobs. Especially the people who actually did them.”
“Well, it’s a risk, I’ll admit, but I made sure none of the jobs I chose were claimed by anybody else,” she pointed out. “I’ve planned for something like this for a while, so I had a list ready. But worst case, it’s enough of a bluff to give us time to handle Banks and nullify the contract anyway.”
He nodded, his weapons maintenance now complete.
“Look, we’re staying in town for the night anyway,” she assured him. “I’ll make sure they’re safe come the morning, and if our cover is still solid, I’ll let Anderson know you’re ready to head back to New York to confront Banks. I have a feeling you want to exchange a few words with him.
“Words, yes,” he agreed, packed his weapons away, and pushed the duffel bag under his bed before he stretched out comfortably. “I’d like to exchange bullets with the man too.”
“I’m sure we can arrange that.” She laughed and he couldn’t help a small smile of his own as his eyes drifted closed.
Chapter Eighteen
Savage scowled at the phone. He didn’t want to make this call. It was a part of the life he had put away in the closet, and over this past week, he’d been forced to bring it out and display it like dirty laundry. It wasn’t a good look on him. He liked having the mystique of someone who had no earthly attachments. It made people think he was somehow invulnerable, which in turn made it difficult for them to read him. Even the likes of Anderson and Monroe seemed to hold him in a little awe. Anja was the only one to whom his secrets weren’t secret, and he’d made peace with himself over her particular kind of irreverence.
Despite his reluctance, he knew it was something he had to do. He dialed the number into his phone and held it gently to his ear. They were supposed to leave the police station at any moment now, so they would have their personal effects. Anja had made sure there would be a police detail on their house and with them at all times for another couple of weeks at least. It would be a little inconvenient for them, but it was better than being temporarily relocated, and certainly better than staying at the police station until they found the man or men who had survived to drive the van away.
The line took a few seconds to connect as Anja patched him through a couple of secure channels, but eventually, it rang on the other end.
“The phone is on the move, so he might be driving,” she said. “If he puts it on speaker, you’ll know to hang up.”
“How am I supposed to tell if it’s on speaker?” he asked.
“I’ll know if you don’t and I’ll kill the connection.” The phone continued to ring.
“Hello?” Andy finally answered. Savage wasn’t sure what he could say to make sure the line wasn’t being shared with anyone else, but the fact that it remained open for another few seconds said that Anja hadn’t killed the connection yet. “Hello?”
“Do you know who this is?” Savage asked and masked his voice in case anyone else might overhear.
“Yes,” the man said and a slight change in his voice indicated recognition.
“Am I on speakerphone?”
“No,” Anja grumbled and sounded impatient.
“No, you’re only talking to me, don’t worry,” Andy said. “We’re in the car at the moment. It’s nice to hear from you again Steve. It’s been a while.”
He tried to remember if they had agreed on a name or any codes, but by the sounds of it, he was on the line with Andy and Abby and Jules were close by, probably in a car with him.
“Is everyone all right?” he asked.
“Yeah, it’s been a tough night, but we’re leaving the police station now.” The man managed to keep his voice upbeat. “They’re driving us home in the back of a police car, something that’s been on Abby’s bucket list forever—right, sweetie?”
Savage nearly cracked when he heard Abby cheer in the background. So much of him wanted to at least hear her voice again. He didn’t even need to talk. If he could simply listen to a recording of her reading the phone book, he was sure he would find it fascinating.
He cleared his throat quickly.
“Is everything all right with you?” Andy continued. “How’s Sally?”
Savage had no idea who Sally was, but he assumed her addition to the conversation was for the benefit of the other people listening in. He could roll with that.
“Sally is…great, dude.” He shook his head and focused on the reason for the call. “Anyway, we’ve cornered the people responsible for what happened, and we’ve isolated the attackers. While you should probably stick with your police protectors, you should be clear to go. If all goes well, by the time the police pull the protection detail off you guys, the whole situation will be resolved, one way or another.”
“What do you mean by that?” he asked. “And how did you know…about that?”
Clearly, the lawyer was no professional in this and had almost let slip what they were actually talking about. He realized he would need to cut the conversation short.
“You’ll receive a text message a few minutes after I hang up. There will be a phone number on it. If you see anything odd or anyone following you, or even if you feel particularly paranoid and need to be reassured, call that number. Let it ring three times and hang up. I’ll call you back as quickly as I can, you got it?”
“Yeah, I’ll let you know about that softball game,” Andy replied. “Look, we’re pulling up at my place. I’ll give you a call about it later, all right?”
“Yeah, stay safe,” Savage replied. “Oh, and I already gave you the whole hurt them and I’ll kill you speech, but I want to make sure it’s still fresh in your mind, you hear?”
“I’ll let them know you said hi.” The man chuckled. Savage nodded and hung up, then stared at his phone for a few long seconds. He wouldn’t let them know he said hi. Well, not him-him. He’d simply say that Steve, their family friend, said hi, which would sustain the narrative they tried to sell but didn’t help how he felt.
“How’re you feeling?” Anja asked after he had stared at the phone for a little longer than he would have cared to admit. “Oh, wait, let me guess. You don’t want to talk about it?”
“You’re getting good at this.” Savage set his phone on the nightstand and lay on the bed. “If you couldn’t make your money with computers, I would suggest being a fortune-teller.”
“I know you don’t mean that, so I’ll let it slide,” she replied with a hint of warning in her tone. “But don’t try me, bitch.”
He couldn’t help a small smirk as he stared up at the ceiling. No, he really didn’t mean to get snippy with Anja. Despite everything, she was the closest friend he had after his death, and he didn’t know what he would do without her, both on and off the job. It was annoying that she was halfway across the world at this point since he would have liked to buy her a beer at some point.
Although her being distant was probably for the best. He knew himself well enough to know he would say or do something stupid before too long that would simply make everything so much worse. Maybe it was better that their friendship remained long-distance.
“It’s been a while since anyone’s called me a bitch,” he said softly and folded his arms behind his head.
“Well, you earned it, buddy. I’m only trying to keep it real. You can push everyone around you away all you want, but we’re stuck together. Mostly because I’ll still be working for Monroe and with you and Anderson anyway, so we might as well stay cordial with each other.”
“Agreed.” He pushed up quickly. “So, before we start braiding each other’s hair and talking about boys, what say you we go over what the plan is to eliminate this Banks character once and for all?”
“Well, Sam and Terry are running point on that operation, and they’re taking their sweet time reporting in this morning,” she advised him. “Considering that it’s already midday in New York, they’re very late in getting back to me about Banks’ movements yesterday. So, either they’re in trouble and need bailing out, or—”
“Or they’re so wrapped up in bickering that it must have slipped their minds.” He knelt beside the bed to pull his weapons out and began to prepare for his trip back. He still had time before his checkout, of course. That would be at midday for him, three hours away. Still, there was no point in lollygagging around there when the work in this part of the country was resolved, for the most part. He packed his few belongings, tucked the pistol into his underarm holster, and stowed everything else safely in the duffel. After one final survey of the room, he snatched his jacket off the chair and headed to the door.
“Aren’t you supposed to do something like wipe your fingerprints from the room before you leave or something?” Anja asked as he pulled the door shut and locked it behind him.
“That would be necessary if someone was specifically tracking and targeting me,” Savage explained as he strolled to the elevator. He was leaving so didn’t really give a shit if any of the other hotel patrons heard him talking to himself. They would probably do what normal, sane people did and assume he was talking into a Bluetooth headset or something. “The whole point would be to cover up the fact that I was in there in the first place. But considering that most hotel rooms aren’t cleaned very well between guests, there will be at least a hundred or so different fingerprint partials in there, overlapping each other and obfuscating any evidence of me having been there. If I ran a wipe of the room to clean my fingerprints, I would also clear the hundred or so others there too. That would be a more obvious indicator of my presence than if I had simply left everything as it was.”