Mortal Crimes 2

by Various Authors

  “Are you kidding me?” Alex said under her breath.

  Frida was armed.

  The jeep started rushing forward again.

  “Hold on!” Alex yelled as she let go of the lid and ducked down.

  Frida smacked into their rear bumper again, sending the lid of the trunk flying all the way up.

  As the jeep fell back a few feet, Frida stuck a gun out her window and let off another shot. This one went into the trunk itself, puncturing the floor right where Alex had been lying moments before.

  As soon as Alex saw Frida pull the gun out of sight, she hopped up on her knees and reached for the lid to pull it back down.

  The jeep sped forward again.

  Realizing there was no way she’d get hold of the lid in time, Alex did the only thing she could. She crouched, her feet poised and ready. Right before Frida’s vehicle hit them again, she jumped.

  She almost blew it. Her jump had been too good, sending her all the way over the jeep’s hood into its windshield, nearly bouncing her off the vehicle altogether. The only thing that saved her was throwing her arm around the top of the windshield at the last second and hanging on.

  “If only I had a camera,” Frida shouted. “YouTube gold!”

  She pointed the gun directly through the glass at Alex, but instead of pulling the trigger, she jerked the steering wheel first one way, then the other.

  Alex’s feet swung out over the edge of the car, then slammed back into the front fender, but she didn’t let go.

  Frida smiled. “Oh, you’re good. How about we go again?”

  When Frida jerked the wheel again, Alex was ready. Using the swerving vehicle’s momentum, she swung around the windshield and dropped into the front passenger seat. Caught off guard, the grin on Frida’s face disappeared as she whipped the gun toward Alex. Alex shot her hand out, grabbing the woman’s wrist, and pushing it into the dash. The gun went off, the bullet slicing its way through the passenger door and into the night.

  “Stop the car!” Alex yelled.

  Frida laughed. “Does that really work? Do people listen to you when you say stupid things like that?”

  Alex slammed Frida’s wrist against the dash again, trying to dislodge the weapon, but the assassin held on tight. Realizing she needed a different strategy, Alex swung her left leg into the driver’s side footwell and shoved it toward the brake.

  Frida blocked it with her own foot, kicking it to the side. That was fine by Alex. She hadn’t thought it would work, but she knew it would provide the distraction she needed to grab the emergency brake handle.

  She yanked it up.

  The tires screamed and the smell of rubber filled the air. Frida let up on the gas as she tightened her one-handed grip on the steering wheel and fought for control. Alex moved her foot over to the regular brake and slammed it home.

  The car came to a screeching halt in the middle of the road, the vehicle spinning sideways until it was almost perpendicular to the lanes.

  Frida let go of the steering wheel and twisted to the side, pulling with all her strength to free the hand holding the gun. When she was finally able to yank it away, the momentum brought her arm upward, pointing the gun at the sky.

  Alex thrust forward and reached for it. She wasn’t able to get hold of the weapon, but she was able to knock it out of Frida’s hand, sending it tumbling onto the jeep’s floor.

  Both women scrambled for it. Alex got there first, but Frida’s hand was right on top of hers. The gun rocked back and forth on the floor of the vehicle, its barrel pointing skyward again. Alex felt Frida’s finger slip over the trigger, so she shoved at the weapon just as it went off.

  The bullet passed through the front lip of the driver’s seat before cutting a hole through Frida’s thigh. The second shot entered Frida’s body, just below her rib cage, traveling through a lung, nicking her heart, and finally coming to rest against the C4 vertebra of her spine.

  She didn’t die right away, but it was only a matter of seconds.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  For the rest of the ride, Alex used a rope to hold the trunk lid closed from inside. Eighty-five minutes later, they reached the secluded bay southwest of Slavne with no further incident.

  The arranged fishing vessel was waiting for them.

  By the time the sun came up, they were twenty-five miles off the coast, where they met up with the Nanu, a Belgium-registered, oceanic science vessel. The Nanu was owned by the Teetaert Institute, a research firm that was itself owned—after a few additional corporate layers—by Stonewell International.

  The scientists aboard the Nanu were a bit miffed that their research trip to the Black Sea had to be put on hold for several days, while the ship made its way back through the Bosphorus and then to a Greek island in the Mediterranean Sea. The purpose of the side trip was to ferry a group referred to as VIPs who had suddenly shown up on the ship one day. But a promise of adding the missing time to the end of the voyage seemed to mollify most of the researchers.

  Alex never got the name of the island where they were dropped off. They were met at the pier by a blue sedan with black-tinted windows, and whisked away to a private airfield where a Stonewell jet was waiting.

  El-Hashim was assigned to the back row of the plane, where she sat with the two Stonewell security officers who had been waiting for them at the airfield.

  Alex took a seat in a row by herself near the front of the jet. She tilted her chair back the moment she was able and fell fast asleep.

  “Miss Poe?”

  Someone touched her.

  “Miss Poe?”

  She opened her eyes. It was one of the security men, his hand on her shoulder. She thought at first she had slept right through the landing, but no, she could hear the engines still droning.

  “Yes?” she said as she tried to blink the sleep from her eyes.

  “The prisoner has asked if she can speak with you.”

  “Uh, sure. Okay.”

  She followed him to the back. As she passed through the cabin, she could see Deuce passed out a couple rows behind where she had been. Cooper was on the other side of the plane, reading a book.

  El-Hashim sat in the middle of the back row, holding a cup of water. When she saw Alex, she nodded a greeting and gestured to the seat beside her.

  She then looked at the guard who’d brought Alex back. “May we have a bit of privacy?”

  The man didn’t move for a moment, but finally said, “Five minutes. That’s all.”

  “It’s more than enough.”

  The security man nodded to his partner, and they both moved a few rows up.

  “What do you want?” Alex said.

  “You asked me a question.”

  “One you didn’t feel the need to answer, if I remember correctly.”

  El-Hashim tilted her head, conceding the point. “I’ve had time to think.”

  “And?”

  “I will tell,” she said, glancing at the two security men. “If you will do me a favor.”

  “I don’t do favors for terrorists.”

  “I’m not a terrorist.”

  Alex shrugged. “Semantics.”

  “I simply want you to deliver a message.”

  “That doesn’t do much to change my mind.”

  “Maybe this will. The person I want you to deliver the message to is your father.”

  Alex narrowed her eyes, but said nothing.

  “All you need to say is, the committee should know that El-Hashim never forgets.”

  “And what’s that code for?”

  “I assure you, there’s nothing coded in that message at all.”

  “You will, of course, forgive the fact that I have a hard time trusting what you say.”

  “So, will you do this for me?”

  Alex looked away, shaking her head to herself.

  “You realize,” El-Hashim said. “All you need to do is say yes. I won’t actually know for some time if you delivered the message.”

  �
��And maybe the contact information you give me won’t even be for my father. Maybe it’s a way of sending a message to someone in your network.”

  “You asked me for the information. And now I am offering it to you.”

  Alex was surprised by her own hesitation. Now that she was potentially this close to contacting her dad, was she actually scared?

  “All right,” Alex said. “I’ll do it. If I decide to use your information.”

  “That doesn’t concern me. It would be very difficult to never try and reach him, I think.”

  Alex didn’t respond.

  “How’s your memory?” El-Hashim asked.

  “Excellent.”

  “Like your father’s, then.”

  Again, there didn’t seem to be the need for a reply.

  El-Hashim leaned over and whispered an e-mail address—a seemingly random mix of letters and numbers—in Alex’s ear.

  “Would you like to repeat that back to me?”

  Alex shook her head. “I’ve got it. Is that all?”

  “You want more?”

  “Do you have more?”

  “Unfortunately, no,” El-Hashim said.

  Alex stood up.

  “You’ll remember the message, yes?”

  “I’ll remember,” Alex told her, then headed back to her seat.

  *

  MCELROY WAS WAITING for them at the airport when they landed. With him was a squad of black-suited men who screamed government agency. Which one, Alex wasn’t sure.

  He smiled and shook each of their hands as they exited the aircraft.

  “Excellent work,” he told Alex. “Well done.”

  She said thanks, then stood to the side as El-Hashim was escorted off the plane.

  “It’s certainly a pleasure to meet you,” McElroy said.

  El-Hashim frowned. “Am I supposed to know who you are?”

  “I’m the one who sent the team to pick you up. But that’s not important. We won’t be spending any time together, so no need to become buddy-buddy. These men, however…” He gestured to the group of suits. “I have a feeling you’ll be getting to know them quite well.” He turned to the oldest-looking one in the group. “I remand El-Hashim to your custody.”

  “Transfer accepted,” the man said. “Ms. El-Hashim, you will come with us.”

  As the woman was led away, Cooper walked over to Alex. “Nice working with you again. It’s…been too long.”

  She gave him a quick smile. The truth was, being around him again had been better than she expected. Nice, even. The residual anger she’d felt over the last several years had receded. Maybe disappeared completely.

  “It has,” she said. “Thanks. You know, for saving my life and all.”

  “If you’d died back there, I’d be buried in paperwork. Nothing I hate more than that. I should be thanking you for staying alive.”

  “Glad I could keep the writer’s cramp away.”

  “Hey,” Deuce said, walking up and dangling Alex’s car keys in the air. “They moved your car here, so we can go. I mean, you know—now?”

  “Good working with you, too, Deuce,” Cooper said, holding out his hand. “I’d trust you to have my back anytime.”

  Deuce looked surprised by the compliment. He shook Cooper’s hand. “Thanks, man. You take it easy, huh?”

  “You, too.”

  Cooper turned to Alex. She thought he was about to hug her, but after an awkward moment, he held out his hand again.

  “Keep in touch, Alex. I mean it.”

  “I will,” she said.

  Deuce took hold of her arm. “Come on, already. I want to get home.”

  As they walked toward the parking lot, they heard footsteps running up behind them. Alex looked back to find McElroy heading their way.

  “Hold on,” he said.

  “Do we have to?” Deuce whispered.

  “Do you want to get paid?” Alex whispered back.

  “Fine.”

  They stopped and turned to wait.

  When McElroy reached them, he was slightly out of breath. “I meant what I told you when I first saw you back there. Great job. I know it wasn’t easy.”

  “It’s what you paid us to do,” Deuce said. “Speaking of which, when can we expect the check?”

  McElroy cocked his head. “The money is already transferred to each of your accounts.”

  “Crap,” Deuce said under his breath. “You mean we didn’t have to stop?”

  Alex felt the urge to elbow him in the side, but refrained and said to McElroy, “You’re welcome. Now, if you don’t mind, we’re pretty tired, so we’re—”

  “Can I ask you something?” McElroy said.

  “What?”

  “Were you able to find out anything about your father?”

  Alex frowned and shrugged. “No. She didn’t have anything beyond what you already told me.” Her father was personal business.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “I took a chance. It didn’t pay off. But we got her for you. So…” Another shrug.

  “Listen. About that. I might have some other projects coming up that you might be great for. Can I call you?”

  “Sure. You can always call.”

  “But what? That doesn’t mean you’ll answer?”

  The corner of her mouth tilted up. “Hey, Deuce, didn’t you say something about going home?”

  “Once or twice.”

  “Mr. McElroy,” Alex said. “Thank you for the opportunity. We’ll show ourselves out.”

  Epilogue

  London, England

  Two weeks later

  “Zeta Five, clear.”

  “Zeta Six, clear.”

  After the last watcher reported in, the surveillance van fell silent.

  “I don’t think he’s coming,” Duncan said.

  McElroy stared at the main monitor. “He’s close.”

  “If you say so, sir.”

  McElroy looked over at Duncan, his eyes narrowing. “I know he is. He’s gotta be. This is too tempting for him.”

  He looked back at the monitor.

  Alexandra Poe was center screen, still sitting at the table outside the Weary Horseman Pub in west London, as she had been for nearly two hours.

  Once McElroy had listened to the taped conversation Poe had had with El-Hashim on the plane, he knew this chance would come. It would have been nice if the mic had picked up whatever El-Hashim had whispered in Alex’s ear, but it wasn’t the end of the world. At some point, Alex would use the information to contact Raven, so all McElroy had to do was keep an eye on her, and monitor her electronic communications.

  The last part was actually easier than the first. Stonewell’s connection with the government gave McElroy access to eavesdropping methods ninety-nine percent of the population didn’t even know about. Following her every day was a bit more difficult. More than once she had lost her tail for hours on end.

  Cooper would have been the best person for the job, but McElroy was worried about Cooper’s personal history with Alex, and thought it best not to test the man’s allegiances at this point. He had told him nothing about the hunt for Raven.

  It was the electronic surveillance that finally paid off when, the day before, Alex suddenly booked a round-trip flight to the UK, leaving at midnight that night and returning the next afternoon. They already knew she had yet to take on another job, so the trip couldn’t have been tied to work. Which, in McElroy’s mind, meant she was making the journey for one reason only.

  This was what McElroy had been waiting for, and he was more than ready. He and his team were in the air a full two hours before Alex even stepped into Baltimore/Washington International Airport.

  While in flight, his techs back in the States pored through the data on Alex’s phone. Though they could find nothing pointing to a time and place for a meeting, they did uncover a Google Map search for the Weary Horseman. It wasn’t a guarantee of where the meeting would occur, but McElroy was confident enough to sen
d most of his team to the pub to set up while tasking two of his men to follow Alex when she arrived in London.

  And now, here they were—Alex, McElroy, his team.

  All except Raven.

  Where the hell was Frank Poe?

  *

  Alex checked her watch again.

  If she didn’t leave soon, she would miss her return flight.

  Her father was already over an hour late.

  She wondered, not for the first time, if maybe it hadn’t even been her father who replied to her e-mail. There was no way to know if El-Hashim had been telling her the truth. That’s why it had taken close to two weeks before she finally gave in.

  Knowing she couldn’t actually e-mail him from her own account, she had driven around the city until she spotted an internet café, and used one of their terminals to create a dummy account to send the message.

  She actually stopped and started over a dozen times before just writing:

  Dad,

  It’s Alex. Are you there?

  As much as she wanted to check every ten minutes after that for a reply, she knew she shouldn’t use any of her own devices, so she limited herself to finding other random computer locations every four or five hours.

  It was almost a full day before she received a reply. She was surprised when she saw it in her inbox, and stared at it for what seemed like an eternity before finally clicking it open.

  Weary Horseman Pub. London.

  4 p.m. tomorrow.

  While there was no greeting or signature, there was also no question whether she would go.

  But now it appeared she’d come all this way for nothing.

  The waiter approached her table. “Another pint, miss?”

  “No,” Alex said. “No, I think just the check.”

  She paid with cash she’d exchanged at the airport, then stood up, took a quick look around, and pulled on her jacket.

  As she dropped her arms to her side, her wrist brushed against something sticking out of one of the pockets.

  She looked down, confused, and saw it was a white envelope. She started to pull it out, but stopped when she spotted her name on the outside, written in a handwriting she could never forget.