Captive Target: Six Assassins Book 4

by Heskett, Jim

  The morning sun, filtered through thick cloud cover, made his view of the road a little better, but snow still whipped around the car. It didn’t matter. Gabe had to get home and start working through the data on these hard drives he’d stolen to find the elusive RFH.

  If Ember were still alive, she wouldn't be for much longer.

  His was the only car during the entire drive up Highway 93 from Golden to Boulder. The thirty-mile excursion took him almost two hours, his car's speed barely ever exceeding a crawl. He drove hunched over the steering wheel, hands aching, eyes scratchy and dry. A cloudy sky made the view too dark for sunglasses, but the blanket of snow in all directions caught enough light to make him squint the whole way.

  By the time he’d reached Boulder, the snow had fizzled to a trickle. Now falling at a rate like any other late October occasion. The wind shifting the existing snow around was still a problem, but Gabe could see well enough to drive through the little college town. And now, he saw other cars out and about. Crawling, high beams on, just like him.

  When he neared his building, he saw them right away.

  There were three cars Gabe had never seen before in the lot. And, half a dozen people wandering around the complex, decked out in full winter gear. But, despite the scarves and hats, Gabe could clearly identify one of these people: Yousef, the bookkeeper and intelligence officer.

  Gabe drove past the building, into the alley behind it. The rear of the building had fire escapes. Could he reasonably attempt to climb those rickety pieces of metal amid the snow and wind? Last night, he had scaled the side of a building considerably taller than this with suction cups to keep him from falling. No such equipment today.

  He didn’t know if he had a choice, though. He needed his laptop to analyze the drives, and he needed to analyze the drives to find Ember. If that meant going up the fire escape, then so be it.

  He had a view straight up to his balcony, and it didn’t look like anyone was in his apartment. The lights were still off. No shadows passed by the space he could see from his sliding balcony door.

  Maybe they didn’t know where he lived. They would find out soon enough, though. It was only a matter of time before one of his neighbors unwittingly sent them straight to him.

  Gabe reached into the car’s glove box and removed a pair of gloves lined with grippy rubber dots along the palm. The dots probably wouldn’t hold up long against the snow, but it was better than nothing. Crampons for his shoes would be useful, but there were none of those in his bag of tricks. REI probably was not open during blizzards, either.

  He raced across the back alley to the fire escape, backpack jumping around on his shoulder blades as he navigated the drifts of snow. Gripping the fire escape was like trying to handle an icicle, the cold cutting through his gloves immediately. Didn't matter. This had to be done.

  Gabe gritted his teeth and pushed himself up. Once he’d reached the second floor, he swung a leg over to his balcony and peered inside the sliding glass back door. No flashlights poking around in his apartment. Every visible shadow appeared to be static.

  He scurried over to the door and unlocked it, then entered his apartment. The absence of wind made him shudder, for some reason. This room felt intensely quiet, something he wasn’t used to.

  His eyes moved over everything, taking a quick inventory to examine if there was anything here he couldn't live without. What if he couldn’t return to this building again later? He thought about the framed pictures sitting atop the dresser in his bedroom. Would those Golden security guys smash everything in here?

  Either way, if Gabe didn’t hustle out of here on the quick, he would probably be smashed along with them. No time to save the past.

  He snatched his laptop from the bedroom and then made his way back down the fire escape, fighting the cold and snowy morning. He shuffled over to his car without incident and slid his laptop into his backpack, then dropped his backpack onto the passenger seat. A wave of bile rumbled up into his throat, but he forced it back down.

  “I need somewhere to stay,” he said to the windshield, trying to breathe to calm himself.

  Before he drove off, Gabe looked up at his apartment window. He had a feeling he would never see it in good shape again. But that didn't matter. His apartment was full of things. If Ember died, none of those things mattered.

  And now, Gabe had the tools to lead him to the next step.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  GABE

  Gabe wasn't surprised when his first attempt to knock on the door went unanswered. He tried a second time, watching the curtain out of his peripheral to see if Zach would pull it back to spy on him. After several seconds of waiting, no such luck.

  He had to be here, though. With the roads in such a cataclysmic state, no one was going out in this. Besides, Zach's car was in the lot.

  “Hey,” Gabe said to the door. “I don’t know if she ever mentioned me, but my name is Gabe. We have a mutual friend… you know, the one who’s named after a month late in the year? Please open the door. It’s freezing out here, and I’m turning into a snowman.”

  Gabe listened, and he thought he heard feet shuffling, but it was hard to tell with the wind and the weather at his back. He knocked a couple more times, making sure he thumped his knuckles hard enough to overcome the sound of the wind, but not so hard the occupant would assume law enforcement was banging on the door.

  Then, he heard clinking on the other side.

  The door opened three inches; the chain pulled tight. A pair of eyes appeared in the space. "Who are you and why are you banging on my door?"

  "I'm Gabe. I'm a friend of hers. She asked me to come by and check on you. I have been since you showed up, but now I'm staying here. Room 117, just down the way."

  Zach’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re her friend, tell me: does she like doughnuts or bagels better?”

  “I have no idea, dude. I’ve seen her eat both. If I had to pick one, I’d guess bagels, because she’s always complaining about refined sugars and how much longer she’s going to have to stay on the treadmill after eating doughnuts.”

  Zach eyed him for a second, and then he shut the door. Gabe listened to him unhook the chain, then the door opened wide. "To be honest," Zach said, "I don't know the answer to that question, either. I probably would have said doughnuts, but who knows?"

  Gabe noted Zach was holding a length of wood, with a few nails jutting out. It was thin and painted white. Gabe pointed at it. “Did you rip that off the baseboard?”

  “I left my real baseball bat back at my apartment.”

  “That would break over somebody’s head the second you tried to hit them with it. You’d be better off using your fists.”

  Zach looked down at the flimsy hunk of wood and then set it atop the air conditioner unit. “Did you drive here?”

  "I did. The roads are sketchy at the best right now. I wouldn't recommend it unless it were life or death."

  “Is that why you drove here, Gabe? Life or death?”

  “I don’t have a simple answer to that question.”

  Zach waved him inside and shut the door. “What do you mean, you’re Ember’s 'friend'? What does that mean?”

  “We work together.”

  “You’re a consultant, too?”

  Without missing a beat, Gabe said, “Yes. I’m her assistant. Only for a few months now, though.”

  Zach picked up the hunk of baseboard bat and walked it over to the section of wall missing a piece that would appear to fit Zach’s weapon. He dropped to a knee and pushed it back into place. “Where is she?”

  Gabe considered a few options, but he decided to keep it as close to the truth as possible. "I don't know. I'm looking for her, though. I have been for a couple of days, and I'm getting close. I think I'm almost there."

  “Is she… in trouble?”

  “I can’t say.”

  “Can I help you look for her?”

  “Zach, the best move you can make is to stay put and kee
p your head down. Whatever reason you have for hiding out here… if Ember told you to do it, then I would listen to her.”

  Zach sighed through his nose and retreated to the bed where he sat, hands on his knees. His eyes were red, his hair mussed. The guy looked like he’d been through a rough time.

  “I’m so… helpless,” Zach said. “I hate it. I’m not used to other people defining where I can and can’t go.”

  Gabe sighed. “Yeah, I can imagine how much that sucks. I don’t know what deal you and her have and why she told you to come here. It’s none of my business. She just asked me to stop by and make sure you didn’t need anything. So, do you need anything?”

  “Just to know where she is.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “Okay. Then, no, I don’t need anything else.”

  Gabe pointed at the wall. "I've got to get back to my room. I have some work to do, and it's time-sensitive."

  “You’re not really consultants, are you?”

  Gabe shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Zach looked like he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t. Instead, he reoriented himself on the bed so he could lie down, with his head on the pillow. “Thanks for stopping by.”

  “If you need anything, I’m in 117. I mean it. Come knock anytime.”

  Zach creaked his face toward Gabe and gave him a frustrated nod. Gabe didn’t know what else to say, so he backed out and eased the door shut behind him.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  ISABEL

  Isabel spent four days following Serena Rojas around Boulder and the plentiful suburbs of northern Denver. This assassin was as careful as could be. Even though Isabel had no reason to think Serena was onto her, the target still executed frequent evasion maneuvers like switching cars and dumping phones after a few uses.

  On the second day, Serena spent twelve hours parked across the street from Ember’s condo building, waiting and watching. Isabel surveilled from a spot behind the grocery store to the north. She admired Serena’s patience and determination. By Isabel’s estimate, the other woman took exactly one bathroom break in twelve hours.

  On the third day, Serena drove all over Boulder. Isabel tracked her as she stopped at several places to go inside and ask questions. She wasn’t as obvious as showing these restaurant hostesses and shopkeepers Ember’s picture, but Isabel had to imagine that’s what she was doing: trying to piece together a timeline of Ember’s movements.

  All of this intel-gathering would have been much more simple if Isabel could have attached a GPS tracker to her. The one she had brought with her hadn’t functioned, and her old FBI mentor Jacob hadn’t been able to get her a replacement with any haste.

  Or, it would have been easier to use FBI resources, which Isabel couldn’t do in this situation. The Bureau had some snazzy surveillance toys. But, then again, as skilled as Serena was, she might have found the good stuff, too.

  So, Isabel tracked her the old-fashioned way, noting Serena’s movements, trying to keep out of sight as she did so.

  On the fourth day, the blizzard made everything a challenge. Serena spent the night before and the morning after hunkered down at a hotel in Boulder, and Isabel stayed at a motel across the street. In the late morning, the snow and winds lessened, but it still wasn’t hospitable outside. More cars were on the road now, creeping along, windshield wipers at full capacity. Isabel had never seen weather like this before, and she did not envy those anxious drivers, trying to make sense of a city completely enveloped by white.

  That’s why, when Serena left the hotel at two in the afternoon, Isabel knew it would be for something important. She raced down into the lot to grab her rental car so she could follow Serena in a black BMW, the most recent ride she had acquired. Isabel stayed at least three cars back as they trudged across the deep snow from the west end of Boulder to the east side.

  Isabel pulled into a parking lot at a park overlooking the water. A sign for the East Boulder Community Center was barely readable, with a foot of snow sitting atop it. A few flakes still fell, but the heavy snowfall and winds had mostly disappeared. Still, getting anywhere had been a challenge.

  Serena had parked at the far end, and Isabel made sure a bank of trees shrouded her target’s view of Isabel’s vehicle. It was much harder to pull off surveillance now, with so few people traveling.

  She had to take that risk.

  Serena left the car, bundled up in a heavy coat and hat. She trudged through the thick snow toward the main building, which was not open for business today. Like a lot of places in Boulder, the blizzard had shut it down until the snowplows could make a dent in the havoc.

  Serena must have an important meeting if she was willing to brave this weather.

  Isabel waited and watched from her car as Serena took up a position under an awning, tapping a boot on the snowy ground. This went on for three minutes, four minutes. Serena kept her eyes forward. She didn’t check her phone or cast covert glances around or give any hint she was nervous about being there.

  And then, after five long minutes of watching Serena stand in the cold, a figure appeared from the far side. A tall man, muscular-looking, although it was hard to tell for sure, based on his appearance. He was in jeans and a heavy coat, with a thick wool hat covering his dome. His feet kicked up piles of snow as he crossed over toward the building.

  There was something familiar about him, though. Isabel couldn't see most of his face, but she had a feeling she knew this guy. He stopped in front of Serena, and she reached out to shake his hand.

  And then, he moved a step to his right, putting his face in clear view from Isabel’s hiding spot.

  When the realization hit her, her mouth dropped open. She knew this guy. “No. Really?”

  Isabel opened her car door and stepped out. She didn’t know why she was breaking protocol like this, but something compelled her to act. The appearance of this man could mean a great number of things, and she had to know more.

  It couldn’t wait.

  She swung the scarf around her neck and jabbed her hands in her pockets as she pushed through the snow. Still trickling down, still adding to the milky layer all over everything. They didn’t notice her at first, but Isabel kept her movement toward them slow and careful. Serena was likely armed.

  When Isabel pulled within a couple of dozen feet, the guy spun toward her, and Serena pulled back toward the building. A trained move, pushing up against a firm surface to prevent a sneak attack from behind.

  Serena shot a hand to the inside of her jacket. But, the guy motioned a meaty arm toward her, waving her back.

  “No,” he said, “it’s okay. I know you. Don’t I know you?”

  “Yes, Layne. My name is Isabel. You are Ember’s neighbor, right?”

  "Somebody better tell me what's going on here," Serena said, her hand still perched inside her coat. She had a deep voice, and her face portrayed angry confidence. Her dark eyes darted back and forth between them.

  “I’m going to reach for my badge inside my coat pocket,” Isabel said, holding up the hand she intended to use. “Please, do not draw your weapon. I’m unarmed.”

  Serena pursed her lips, kept her hand in place, but said nothing. Isabel reached back and opened her badge to show them her credentials. "My name is Agent Isabel Yang, and I'm with the FBI. You are Serena Rojas, and you've been contracted by someone at the Bureau to kill Allison Campbell, AKA November Clarke. Am I on target so far?"

  Serena still said nothing, but Layne put his hands on his hips. “How do you know all this?”

  “That’s not important. Why are you here, Layne?”

  He tilted his thick neck toward Serena. “We work together sometimes. I’m just advising here, not directly involved.”

  The pieces were starting to fall into place for Isabel. “It’s not a coincidence that you live down the hall from Ember, is it?”

  Layne shook his head. "I've been her neighbor for a year, give-or-take. But I also split t
ime between there and a cabin I own in southwest Colorado. I volunteered to keep an eye on her as a favor for friends in the FBI."

  “Marcus Lonsdale?” Isabel asked.

  Layne frowned. “No, sorry. I don’t know who that is. I don’t get out to DC much these days.”

  Layne seemed genuine, but Serena’s lips had twitched a little at the mention of the name. That confirmed to Isabel that Marcus was involved. He’d hired her to succeed where Isabel had failed last week. Failed at neutralizing Ember.

  “Who do you work for?” Isabel asked, looking toward Layne.

  He shrugged. “I’m retired. I don’t work for anyone. But, when I do work, it’s not for who you think. It’s not any letters you’ve ever heard of.”

  Isabel had to assume he meant the same nameless agency Serena had come from. Some little spy shop set up in the basement of a nondescript building, with agents sent out to handle dirty work that could never have the US government's name on it. Isabel had heard of these operations but had never seen one in action.

  "None of this explains why you are here, interrupting our meeting," Serena said. She had finally taken her hand out of her coat interior. "Or why you've been following me for the last four days."

  Isabel pursed her lips. She hadn’t been as clever in her surveillance as she’d thought. “I’m here to ask you not to complete your mission. Do not kill Allison Campbell, or Ember Clarke.”

  “Why?”

  “Because there are forces at work here that you don’t know about. Because Ember is misguided, but she’s not a bad person. Because we need more information before we can act. There are secrets here that need to come out.”

  “What secrets?” Serena asked.

  Isabel let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m working on it.”