The Spy Game

by Remington Kane

  Hanover released a sigh.

  “They succeeded in an unprecedented fashion… and they went undetected for a time. We don’t know the extent of the data breach, however, it’s catastrophic.”

  “That’s why we’re forced to use someone like yourself, a career criminal,” Benedetti said. “You’ll be able to infiltrate Bishop’s organization, while our operatives might be identified and murdered.”

  Tanner looked at Hanover.

  “That was how you lost the eight men you mentioned yesterday, Bishop used facial recognition technology to identify them?”

  “Yes. Our analysts’ best guess is that Bishop’s data may contain ninety-two to ninety-four percent of our agents, but so far, he’s murdered a hundred percent of them. I won’t risk any more of our operatives until I’ve tried a different option. You’re that option, Tanner.”

  “Why not equip your people with eyeglasses like the ones I wore earlier? I was told they were developed to counteract facial recognition.”

  “We did that, along with elaborate disguises, it failed miserably. Like his father, Bishop has a fine scientific mind. We suspect he’s developed an advanced method of facial recognition. We also have such technology, but ours is in its early stages.”

  “I’ve read about it recently. I thought it was years away from becoming reality,” Tanner said. “And Owen Bishop must have downloaded the data somewhere besides this data drive you mentioned. He could have copied it a hundred times.”

  “That’s a possibility, yes,” Hanover said, “but Bishop would retain control of those copies, and if he stored them in a computer cloud we would have discovered them. As you can guess, the NSA has been conducting an exhaustive search for the data. Our own hackers have covertly invaded every computer in Bishop’s organization and come up empty as well.”

  “Owen Bishop is highly intelligent and displays narcissistic tendencies,” Benedetti said. “Our profilers think it would be in step with his personality to have one copy of the data. And if there are more copies somewhere, he would be the only one who would be able to access them.”

  “When I kill him and grab the data drive the threat should be ended.”

  “That’s correct,” Hanover said. “And threat is too weak a word. Owen Bishop could dismantle decades of work and leave the country in a vulnerable position.”

  “Bishop is smart enough to make money with the data as well.”

  “Yes, it’s our fear that he’ll begin selling his services to anyone that can pay. Imagine your friend Joe Pullo with the ability to unearth an undercover cop in his midst just by paying Bishop a fee. Now imagine that same scenario playing itself out across the country.”

  “There would be an epidemic of dead cops,” Benedetti said.

  “Joe wouldn’t kill a cop or a Fed. It’s bad for business.”

  “In any event,” Hanover said. “You see what we’re up against. We must retrieve the data Bishop has and end him. If not, covert police and intelligence operations would come to a standstill.”

  Tanner thought over what he’d just been told, and a question came to his mind.

  “Why isn’t Bishop already selling the information?”

  “It’s possible he is,” Benedetti said. “We’ve gathered intelligence that makes us think someone has contacted large criminal organizations. That someone has made claims they have a way to detect our undercover agents.”

  “I see why you’re desperate enough to consider using me, but you can relax now. I’ll get the data drive and kill Bishop for you. Once I do, you’re never to bother me or Sara again.”

  “You don’t get to set the rules around here, Tanner, we do,” Benedetti said.

  Tanner ignored her and spoke to Hanover.

  “We have a deal?”

  “We do,” Hanover said, then he stood, to reach across the wide table and offer his hand. Tanner shook and found surprising strength in the older man’s grip.

  “When do I leave and where am I headed?”

  “We believe Bishop is in Italy. You and Miss Benedetti will board a jet in one hour. Everything you need will be provided for you. While in-flight, Miss Benedetti will school you on the techniques and methods we refer to as tradecraft.”

  “I don’t need instruction and I don’t need Benedetti tagging along.”

  “No one cares what you want or don’t want. While you’re working for us you’ll have a handler, and that will be me,” Benedetti said.

  “That is non-negotiable, Tanner,” Hanover said, “and, I think you’ll find Miss Benedetti will be a great help to you. She speaks four languages, one of which is Italian.”

  “Fine,” Tanner said. “But I won’t need a translator. I can speak Italian fluently, as well as certain dialects spoken there. And I’ll tell you right now that I don’t take orders. I’m not a soldier, a spy, or an agent. What I am is the best killer in the world.”

  “Then do what you do best,” Hanover said, “and kill Owen Bishop.”

  “He’s the only thing standing between my being able to keep Sara out of prison. As far as I’m concerned, he’s already dead.”

  7

  The Plan

  By eight o’clock, Tanner was on a private jet with Vanessa Benedetti and headed for Rome.

  During the flight, Benedetti made calls to contacts in Europe to make certain everything would be ready for their arrival.

  While she was on the phone, Tanner looked over the details of the false identity he’d been provided with. His cover name was Steve Ryan. He was a native of Oklahoma and the beneficiary of a small trust fund a great-grandfather had set-up for him. Steve Ryan was also a man with a history of protesting the government.

  According to the phony biography, Steve Ryan had traveled to Europe during the summer while a sophomore in college. Ryan had decided to drop out of college and stay in Europe after meeting a young woman. He subsequently spent over two years in Italy. The equally fictitious young woman was a political activist and had infected Ryan with her beliefs. At twenty-four, Ryan had returned to the United States. His passion for the young woman had faded but not his fervor for protesting.

  After being arrested at an anti-government rally that had ended in a battle with the police, Ryan was exonerated of any acts of violence.

  Disenchanted with America, Ryan was returning to Italy. Benedetti assured Tanner his cover would withstand scrutiny if anyone were to check.

  Benedetti finished with her phone calls and began questioning Tanner about his cover identity. Tanner answered her questions easily without making an error. Benedetti should have been pleased he was a fast learner with an excellent memory, however, she did not appear to be so.

  “How the hell did you memorize those facts so quickly? Do you have a photographic memory or something?”

  “What I have is a trained memory, and this is not the first alias I’ve used.”

  Benedetti cocked her head.

  “Who are you really? As far as we can tell you popped into existence in 1998 while using the name Xavier Zane.”

  “I’m surprised you know that much.”

  “When did you start working as a hit man, Tanner? You must have been damn young.”

  “I was young. I also trained for years to become an assassin.”

  “You mean to become a Tanner. I’m aware you’re not the first man to go by that name. In fact, I’ve been aware of you for some time.”

  “Why is that?”

  “You came onto my radar when the decision was made to farm out delicate assassinations through the Burke corporation. Hanover and I protested, however we were wasting our time. Thomas Lawson wanted that program, and what Lawson wants, Lawson gets.”

  “He didn’t want to be kidnapped and left to die.”

  Benedetti narrowed her eyes. “And Garrett didn’t want to lose a finger and have his knee blown apart.”

  “He had hurt a friend of mine, Benedetti. That usually results in pain and suffering for the people involved.”

&nb
sp; Benedetti’s gaze softened, and she wore a sly smile. “Remember, Tanner, you promised not to harm me.”

  “I’ll keep that promise.”

  “I hope so, but first, you have to survive this assignment. That’s where I come in. I’ve developed a plan that will result in you being accepted as a member of Bishop’s group.”

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “A man was arrested the other day for a petty crime who is a known member of Bishop’s organization. While he was in jail we arranged to have him killed and make it look like he had a heart attack.”

  “Why?”

  “To cause a vacancy to open up in the rooming house he lived in. You’ll be filling that vacancy and use the opportunity to become acquainted with other members of Bishop’s group. In particular, we want you to make friends with a man we know by the single name of Vinchanzo.”

  Benedetti handed Tanner a manila folder that contained photos of a dark-haired man in his thirties who had a large nose and fleshy lips.

  “Vinchanzo isn’t very high up in the organization, still, he is a place to start. I expect this phase of the operation to take no more than three weeks.”

  “Why so long?”

  “What, Tanner? You think these men make friends easily. Not only will you be a foreigner, you’ll also be under suspicion because of the timing. Bishop has to know we won’t stop trying to find him and kill him. By moving slowly now, we’ll alleviate much of the suspicion you might face as a newcomer to the group.”

  “Still, three weeks seems excessive.”

  “That’s the plan, Tanner, stick with it. Make sure you run into Vinchanzo at the local pub or show up where the man eats. During your conversations, bring up politics and rant about how unjust everything is. Vinchanzo is a fanatic. He won’t be able to stop himself from spouting his own anti-government rhetoric. Once he’s sure you think like him, he’ll invite you to a protest.”

  “There’s a huge one planned for this week in Rome. I saw that on the news.”

  Benedetti pointed a finger at him.

  “No. That would be moving much too soon. You can mention the protest rally in conversation but don’t attempt to get invited to attend it. That would seem suspicious.”

  “Your plan is too cautious. By the time I move up the ladder to where I’m close to Bishop, the man could already be selling the information.”

  “I understand that, and you need to realize that you’re our last shot at this man. We can’t afford to rush things.”

  “I’m not a covert operative, but I am excellent at breaching a target’s security. Let me do this my way and Bishop will be dead by the end of the week.”

  “If you were to go gunning for the man in your usual manner he might decide to place the information for all to see on the internet. He’d have nothing to lose if he faced death,” Benedetti said, as her voice rose, and her face reddened. After closing her eyes for a moment, she spoke in a calmer voice. “Stick to the plan, Tanner. I know what I’m doing, and I’ve been involved in hundreds of successful operations.”

  “But never in the field, am I right?”

  “Yes, that’s correct. I’m still the best handler of covert operatives the agency has ever had. Follow my instructions and we’ll get through this just fine.”

  Tanner gave a non-committal nod, then made a request.

  “Tell me everything you know about Owen Bishop.”

  “I sent a file to the phone I gave you. However, there’s not much in it. The man is a bit of an enigma, and he’s become a recluse.”

  “Then give me everything you know about his organization. When I know how it’s managed I’ll have insight into its leader.”

  Benedetti made a derisive sound. “What, now you’re an analyst?”

  “No, Benedetti. I’m the best killer in the world.”

  “Or maybe just the luckiest.”

  “If I was lucky I wouldn’t be on this jet with you.”

  Benedetti crossed her shapely legs, causing her skirt to rise up.

  “Most men find me attractive.”

  “Not once they get to know you,” Tanner said.

  Benedetti slammed her laptop shut and moved to another seat.

  8

  Reaching Out To A Friend

  Sara stood on the balcony of her penthouse apartment and looked out at a breathtaking nighttime view of Manhattan. She hardly noticed it. Her mind was filled with thoughts of Tanner and the danger he would undoubtedly face while working for the CIA.

  It infuriated her that she’d been used as a pawn by Lyle Hanover in order to get Tanner to go on a mission. A mobster named Moss Murphy had also used her as bait recently. Sara was determined to not be a liability to Tanner. Murphy was dead by Tanner’s hand, but she could pay back Hanover herself.

  Since Tanner’s departure, she had been on the computer trying to find out about Lyle Hanover and had only discovered one photo of the man that was years old.

  The anger she felt at being used by a government official was the closest thing to hate she had experienced since the days when she was out to kill Tanner. Those feelings scared her because she knew such rage hurt the one generating it as much as, if not more than, the person it was directed toward.

  Sara closed her eyes and took in a long, slow breath. She would not blindly lash out for being slighted, however, she was unwilling to drop the matter.

  Lyle Hanover had to be taught a lesson. More importantly, Sara felt she had to fight back. Only days earlier she had agreed to marry Tanner, a man who had any number of enemies. She’d be damned if she would allow herself to be used again by someone seeking to hurt Tanner.

  She had spoken the truth when she’d told Tanner she never worried about him. She knew his capabilities and considered him able to handle anything. She wanted Tanner to feel the same way about her, and to not worry about her. If he were to fear for her safety every time he left their home, the distraction could make him vulnerable.

  When an idea occurred to her, Sara walked back inside and reached for her phone. After finding the number she needed she paused before dialing, as she remembered that a listening device had been placed inside her purse. There was a chance her phone was being monitored as well.

  After grabbing a light jacket, Sara left the building and walked to a nearby store where she bought a cheap cell phone. Another few blocks of walking took her to a coffee shop. After settling at a table, she dialed a number, then waited for the party she called to answer.

  She cursed beneath her breath as she remembered the person she was calling was in a later time zone. The phone rang until it was connected to a voice mail account, and she was glad she hadn’t woken the other party up in the middle of the night.

  Sara left a quick message that included the number of the phone she was using. Afterward, she realized she was hungry as well as tired. She was thinking of returning home to eat when the phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  The man on the other end of the line was someone Sara considered a friend. His name was Jacques Durand. When Durand spoke in a cheerful tone, his French accent was plain to hear.

  “Sara Blake, it makes me so happy to know you haven’t forgotten me.”

  A smile lit Sara’s face even as a pang of guilt ran through her.

  “This isn’t entirely a social call, Jacques, still, you are not someone I’d ever forget.”

  “You have trouble?”

  “I have need of information concerning a man named Lyle Hanover.”

  “I know the name, but not the man. Does this involve Tanner?”

  “Yes, Hanover used me to get Tanner to agree to do something dangerous. Now Tanner is off to Italy and going up against God knows what. I do not appreciate being used, Jacques.”

  “I would think not, nor do I like it when people abuse my friends.”

  “I was hoping you could tell me what you know about the man. I found nothing on the internet that would help.”

  “Are you still in New York City, Sara
?”

  “Yes, and I’m sorry about calling you so early. I forgot about the time difference.”

  “You didn’t wake me. I’m just a few hundred miles north of you. I’ve been attending a conference in Montreal. Give me your address and I’ll meet with you tomorrow. I’ll need a few hours to gather the information you need.”

  “No, it’s too much to ask you to travel here to see me.”

  “Not at all; I will help you any way I can. I don’t know what you have planned, but Lyle Hanover is a powerful man. My advice is that you let your vendetta go.”

  “It’s not a vendetta, Jacques, it’s a necessity. I don’t want Tanner to be worried about me or to ever consider me a liability. I need to fight back when provoked like this; I will not be a damsel in distress that needs rescuing.”

  “Anyone who considers you weak is a fool.”

  “Do you have a pen handy? I’ll give you our address.”

  “You and Tanner live together?”

  “Yes, and we recently became engaged.”

  “Are you happy, Sara?”

  “I was ecstatic until Lyle Hanover entered the picture.”

  “Good, I’m happy that you’re happy, now tell me where to find you.”

  Sara recited her address and heard a sound of appreciation on the other end.

  “A penthouse apartment? I see that Tanner doesn’t like to slum.”

  “It’s not really his style, even so, he knew I’d love it.”

  “I’ll try to make it to New York by late-afternoon.”

  “Call me and I’ll pick you up at the airport. You’ll also be my guest. We certainly have enough room here.”

  “I look forward to it, and I’ll gather as much information on Hanover as I can while remaining discreet. It would not be good to let the man know you’re looking into his past.”

  “Thank you, Jacques. I mean that, and I know Tanner will appreciate your help as well.”

  “Just what do they have him doing, Sara?”

  “I don’t know the details; however, it involves a man named Bishop.”