by David Archer
“Yeah? And where’s the rule that says team members have to work together to help make the mission a success?”
“Hey, I’m doing my part. Are you trying to say I’m not doing my part?”
“No, I’m just saying you’re being a pain in Sarah’s ass. Stop doing that.”
Sarah gave a sigh. “He can’t,” she said, “I already figured that out. I never should’ve adopted him for a little brother because this is exactly the kind of thing little brothers do.”
“Heads up,” Moose said suddenly. “Limousine just pulled in, and the guy in the shotgun seat is going inside. This could be it. Got your sky copter ready?”
“It’s ready,” Neil said. “Just give me the word and I’ll set it loose.”
* * * * *
There was a knock on the door, and Broussard and Noah looked at each other. Noah nodded, and Broussard rose and went to open the door. A large man stood there, and a quick glance told Noah that he was carrying a large sidearm, probably a full auto machine pistol.
“Gentlemen,” he said, his British accent thick. “My name is Gerald, and I’m here to escort you to the conference.”
Noah got to his feet. “Mr. Broussard has already inspected me,” he said. “Would you like to confirm his findings?”
Gerald smiled and stepped inside. “I’m supposed to do just that, actually.” He stepped behind Noah and frisked him thoroughly, a search so thorough that it bordered on the obscene. “No problem, mate, ain’t nothing on you.”
Gerald turned to Broussard. “Now you, mate,” he said. “Just to be sure this bloke hasn’t turned you to his man.”
Broussard’s eyebrows went up, but he turned his back and spread his arms to submit to the search. Gerald was just as thorough with him, but pronounced him clean as well.
“Let’s be off, then, right?” Gerald asked, and they followed him out of the room. A quick ride down the elevator and stroll across the lobby led them to the front entrance, where Gerald opened the back door of a Bentley limousine. Noah climbed in first and slid across the big backseat, followed by Broussard.
The windows in the back were completely blacked out, making it impossible to see where they were going. They heard Gerald climb into the front passenger seat and the car began moving. It turned right, taking them directly past the Land Rover.
* * * * *
“Okay, they’re coming our way,” Moose said. “Don’t let the bird go until they go past us.”
They were parked on a side street, where they would be blocked from view by a building once the limousine asked them. Sarah started the Land Rover and put on the right turn signal. As soon as the limousine went past, Neil would launch the drone and send it out over the buildings to where he could see the car, and Sarah would make the turn and pull out a short distance behind the limo.
The limousine went by with the driver paying no attention to them. Neil quickly opened his door and held the drone out, then tapped his phone to launch it. He sent it straight up over the three-story building beside them, then concentrated on guiding it remotely until he had the limousine in its camera view. As soon as the car was acquired, Neil tapped it twice on the screen, telling the drone to follow it wherever it went.
Sarah made the turn and saw the limousine almost two blocks ahead already. She followed leisurely, letting the distance between them grow in order to avoid attracting attention.
“Neil, you got it?” she asked.
“I got it,” he said. “I can keep it in sight on my phone, so hang back as much as you want. I’ll let you know if they turn.”
“Okay, I’m hanging back. Just don’t lose them, Neil, please.” She sounded worried. “If they spot that drone...”
“I keep telling you to chill, don’t I? They’re not going to spot it, I disabled its navigation lights. That baby’s invisible in the night sky.”
Sarah swallowed hard. “That’s good, I guess. Now, as long as no big bird runs into it, we can at least know where they take him.”
FIFTEEN
Noah set part of his mind to counting seconds, something he had discovered he could do when he was a teenager. It was actually a technique used by many commandos, something that anyone could learn, and which didn’t require them to maintain conscious thought. The seconds ticked by and were automatically added up into minutes and hours, so that Noah would be able to tell almost exactly how long the trip took.
Just under two minutes into the ride, the car made a turn and he could tell that it was descending, probably on a ramp of some sort. When it gained speed, he concluded that they were on one of the main highways that cut through London.
Eleven minutes later, an ascending ramp and decreasing speed told him they were getting off again, and then the car turned left at an intersection. It wound its way through city traffic for seven minutes more, then slowed and turned down a much steeper ramp.
We’ve entered a parking garage, Noah thought. The meeting is probably going to be in the building above us.
The car made another turn a few seconds later and stopped. The engine was cut, and a moment later Gerald opened the rear door.
“All right, gents,” he said. “If you’ll just follow me, please.”
Noah and Broussard followed him through the dimly lit garage to an elevator. Gerald pressed a button and it opened almost instantly, allowing them to step inside. The lights in the elevator were much brighter, and Noah noticed that Gerald pressed the button for the sixth floor. They rode up in silence, and Gerald led them directly across the hallway when the elevator opened. He knocked on the door, and a woman opened it.
She looked Noah directly in the eyes. “Welcome,” she said. “It is truly a pleasure to get to meet you. My name is Deanna DiPrizio, and you, of course, are the famous Adrian.”
Noah smiled at her. “The pleasure is mine,” he said, taking the hand she offered. He bent down quickly and gently brushed her hand with his lips.
Deanna smiled and blushed slightly. “Please come in and meet the others,” she said.
Noah stepped inside and followed her around a cabinet to where a conference table was set up. Three men sat at the table, while two others stood looking out a window at the skyline with their backs toward the table. Gerald took a position by the door as if standing guard.
“Adrian, I’d like you to meet François Devereaux, James Millington and Roberto Cannellini. Gentlemen, this is Adrian.”
All three of the men rose and offered their hands, and Noah shook each one. There were six chairs around the table, and Deanna pointed to the one beside her own for Noah. Broussard took the last empty chair and they all sat down.
“I’d like to begin...” Deanna said, but François cut her off.
“So you know what it is we wish you to do, yes?”
Noah looked him in the eye. “I’m told you wish me to eliminate the Prince of Wales.”
“That’s correct,” James said, his accent marking him as British. “However, we have a very short window. The elimination must be completed within the next nineteen days. Can you do that?”
Noah turned to face him when he began speaking. “I have never failed to complete a contract that I have taken,” he said. “If I were not certain I could accomplish what you want me to do, I would not be here.”
Roberto suddenly began drumming his fingers on the table. Noah looked at him, and found the man staring directly into his face. “Here is my concern,” he said, his own accent marking him as Sicilian. “We must be certain that there will be no connection to our organization when this assassination takes place. In fact, it would be best if responsibility for it could be placed on some group from within the UK itself.”
“And do you have such a group in mind? Perhaps the IRA?”
Roberto nodded once. “They would certainly be viable as suspects. They have a long history of rejecting the royalty and British domination. Some of their more radical elements might consider a strike against the royal family to be a powerful statement.”
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br /> “The problem,” James said, “would be how to implicate them. They are best known for bombings, so if an explosive device could be used that contained certain signature elements from their previous attacks, that could work.”
Deanna looked at Noah. “Perhaps Adrian has a suggestion along this line.”
“The most incriminating evidence would be a body,” Noah said without hesitation. “I’m certain MI5 has a list of IRA members within Great Britain itself. I can arrange for one of them to be present when the event occurs, his body found shortly afterward. His death would be due to a gunshot from a Security Service weapon, allowing MI5 to take credit. Of course, there would be some circumstantial evidence arranged to tie him to the assassination.”
“And you’re certain you could arrange that in the timeframe we have set?” François asked.
Noah allowed a slight grin to appear on his face. “I have certain contacts that could provide me with an appropriate name and his location. The rest is simply a matter of logistics. I have no doubt that I can accomplish the effect you desire.”
“You’d use a bomb, then?” asked James.
“For the outcome you desire, I believe it would be appropriate. Something primitive, such as IRA has used before. Remote detonation by use of a cellular telephone would suffice.”
James nodded his head. “Be even better if the body you leave behind had a phone on him, perhaps with the detonator number in its history.”
“That is exactly my thought,” Noah said. “As I said, I can create circumstantial evidence that will lead MI5 to the conclusion you desire.”
“Then let’s discuss the fee,” James said. “Twenty bloody million? Has anyone ever paid that much for an assignment such as this?”
Noah smiled coldly. “Has anyone ever demanded the political assassination of the Crown Prince? Leaving aside the difficulty in accomplishing the assignment, considering the security around the target, you have set conditions that make it far more involved than a simple elimination. Tying this assassination to the IRA, accomplishing it in a timeframe much shorter than I normally work with and generating the particular political impact that you want requires me to take unprecedented steps. I can do what you wish, but my fee is nonnegotiable. Twenty million US dollars, and I will not even begin to plan the event until I have received half of it, transferred to an account I will provide you.”
James looked at the others, and a moment later Roberto nodded his head. François followed after another moment, then Broussard and finally Deanna. James looked at her. “Would you make the call, my dear lady?”
Deanna swallowed, then picked up a satellite phone and pressed some buttons. She held it to her ear and appeared to be waiting for someone to answer. Noah watched in silence, noting that her face seemed stressed even though she was obviously trying to conceal that fact. Her eyes widened slightly when the call was answered.
“This is Deanna,” she said. “We have met with Adrian and reached a tentative agreement. He will do what we want within the timeframe we require, under the price and terms I sent to you earlier. Do we have your approval to complete this arrangement?”
She pressed the phone to her ear as if she was having trouble hearing whoever was on the other end. She started to speak a couple of times, but each time closed her mouth again. After more than a minute, she finally said, “Yes, sir, I understand. I assure you, we have impressed upon him just how critical this assignment is. I will finalize it and speak with you again tomorrow.”
She ended the call and turned to Noah. “It appears,” she said nervously, “that we have reached an agreement. Do you have the transfer codes with you?”
Noah reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew a slip of paper, which he passed to her. She reached down beside her chair and picked up a tablet computer. She began tapping on it as François leaned toward Noah.
“A question,” he said. “We will have sometimes more need for your specialty. Will you be available to us for future assignments of this nature?”
Noah looked at him coldly. “I am a contractor, so I am always interested in working. I will look at each opportunity on a case-by-case basis, of course. I am now concerned, however, because I thought I was already dealing with the decision-makers of this organization. From the call the lovely Deanna has just made, I see that I was mistaken.”
“The call I made,” Deanna said softly, pausing in what she was doing, “was to our Executive Director. Every decision we make is finalized by seeking his approval. In all the years I have known him, he has never shown himself. None of us has ever met him, but his leadership and guidance has been invaluable to us. If you cannot accept that, I must respectfully withdraw the offer.”
Noah turned his eyes to her and sat silently for a moment. His eyes bored into her own, and then he spoke. “There are those who would speak of me the same way. I will not object, as long as this assignment and my final payment are both completed successfully.”
Deanna resumed what she was doing.
“How can we reach you?” James asked, and Noah turned to him.
“Once we have successfully concluded this contract,” he said, “I will provide you with a way to message me securely. I have someone who is very good at secure communications.”
“Hmpf,” James said. “The way ours gets buggered about, perhaps we should employ you to set something up for us. Bloody ragheads we use now seem to think email is perfectly safe.”
Deanna held up a finger to get their attention. “The transfer is done,” she said. “I’m sure you won’t want to use my computer to check, but you’ll see the money in your account when you do.” She looked around at the three men. “I believe that concludes our business tonight, unless someone has any other questions?”
All three shook their heads, so Deanna turned back to Noah. “Is there anything else we need to do at this point?”
Noah smiled at her. “Just prepare to send the rest of my payment when this assignment is complete.” He stood, and the others all did likewise. “Until then, I believe I have everything I need.” He turned to Gerald, who was standing beside the door. “Shall we go?”
* * * * *
“Okay,” Neil said when the limousine had turned into the parking garage. “I had to stop the drone from following it inside, now what do I do?”
“God, I don’t know,” Sarah said. “What if there’s a back exit out of that place? Maybe they’re just trying to be sure no one is following.”
Neil tapped the screen of his phone. “I’m taking the drone all the way around the building,” he said. “We’re on the east side, going around on the north—nothing there, checking the west side—no, no exits there, I’m going around to the south. Nothing there either, that entrance is the only way in or out.”
“Park where we can keep an eye on it,” Moose said, “but try not to be too obvious about it.”
“Don’t be obvious, he says,” Sarah muttered. “This is a wide-open street, there isn’t anywhere to hide.”
Neil suddenly leaned over the back of the front seat and pointed through the windshield. “There’s a UPS truck over there. Get behind it. You should still be able to see the exit for the garage.”
Sarah shook her head but did as he suggested. “Good grief, were supposed to be part of some super espionage outfit and the best we can do is hide behind delivery trucks. If they spot this Land Rover and recognize it from back by the hotel, we’re nailed and Noah is probably dead.”
“Oh, chill,” Neil said. “This is a silver Land Rover, that’s the most common color there is. You take off that red wig and we won’t look anything like the same vehicle.”
Sarah flipped him a bird over her shoulder as she parked behind the truck. “Can you find out what building that is?”
“Sure, give me a minute.” He pulled his computer onto his lap and started tapping keys. A moment later he said, “Belongs to an export company, Florentine Global out of Italy. These people all came here from Rome, I’d take bets
they’re all connected to this outfit.”
“Ya think? Okay, Moose, you’re on,” she said.
Moose nodded, then opened his door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. He flipped the hood of his jacket up and stood there for a moment as if deciding which way to go, then began walking nonchalantly toward the garage entrance. The garage had a single security guard on duty in the attendant’s booth, a man who was staring at a video on the cell phone in his hand and paying no attention to pedestrian traffic. Moose watched him for a moment as he approached the entrance, then quickly slipped inside and made his way soundlessly into a darkened corner.
There were a few cars parked in the garage, but he spotted Noah in the dim light and was able to keep an eye on him until he and his escorts entered the elevator. He stepped out of his concealment and continued walking until he got to the elevator itself, noticing that it stopped on the sixth floor. He pushed the up button for the elevator beside it, stepped inside when it opened a moment later, and pressed six.
When it opened again, he poked his head out and looked up and down the hall, but saw no one. He walked briskly along the hallway, listening and looking for any sign of Noah, but to no avail. He spotted an open closet and slipped inside, closed the door and took out his cell phone. He hit a button and Neil answered almost instantly.
“He’s on the sixth floor,” Moose said, “but I have no idea where. This is pretty obviously some kind of office building, but I think most of the offices on this floor are empty, this time of night. Any ideas?”
“Yeah,” Neil said. “Hang tight a minute.”
Neil had landed the drone on top of a nearby single-story building, but now he tapped his phone and let it rise into the air. He watched the image on the phone as the drone climbed up to the sixth floor, staying a couple of hundred feet away, then maneuvered it slowly around the building once more. He zoomed in the image so that he could see into the rooms that had lights on, and spotted Noah sitting at a table with several other people in a conference-style room on the west side of the building. Two men were standing at the window and looking out, but neither seemed to notice the drone.