The Black Directive (P.I. Jude Wyland Thrillers Book 1)

by Blake Dixon

  “Not sure yet.” He had a half-formed plan to trip Rubin up, get him to confess his ties to the mercs and what he’d done to Sarah, and to Kane. But it would be risky as hell — and it hinged on whether Kane’s identity had been compromised. He didn’t think so, but there was always a chance.

  They’d reached the main gully wall, and Natalie was just boosting herself over the top ledge. “All right. Who’s next?” he said.

  Kane jerked his head up. “You go. I’ll be faster than you, and this way you’ll have coverage up there and down here.”

  “Who says you’re faster?”

  He smirked. “I didn’t just get my ass handed to me a few hours ago.”

  “Oh. Right.” The adrenaline had covered it up for a while, but he had to admit he’d gotten a little stiff and sore standing back there.

  A lot stiff and sore, he amended silently as he started the climb.

  He finally reached the top and collapsed. Kane was right about being faster, so he didn’t have a lot of time to catch his breath before they were all on the ridge, ready to get the hell out of here. They’d been lucky so far.

  But that luck ran out when they came up on the rows of storage buildings and spotted a second dark sedan parked alongside the one they’d driven here, and a man standing between the two cars peering into the windows, his weapon drawn.

  Ray Rubin.

  Jude signaled them behind the nearest building, out of sight. At least the director was alone. No sign of Vecchio or any of the other mercs. Maybe they could still make this work.

  “Fuck,” Kane breathed. “We gonna stand here until he leaves now?”

  “We can’t. He knows we’re here now — or at least, he knows I’m here.” Jude risked a glance around the corner. Rubin was still inspecting the sedan, moving slowly toward the trunk. At least the gun was still lowered.

  That half-formed plan he’d been considering was their best shot now.

  “Okay, listen,” he said. “I’ve got an idea.”

  Chapter Forty

  The steady hum of the light fixtures all around the storage units, a low but constant breeze, and the rush traffic from the highway that passed this place served as a backdrop to dampen softer sounds, like whispers and footsteps. Jude hoped it would be enough.

  He gave it a few minutes, and then walked out into the central corridor between the two rows of buildings. In full view of the deputy director. Still, he’d closed half the distance before Rubin finally realized he was coming.

  The man’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t holster his weapon, but he also didn’t raise it as he strolled out to the corridor and stopped, waiting. “Wyland?” he called. “That you?”

  Less than a minute and he was standing in front of the man who’d murdered his partner. Giving no indication that he knew.

  “Hello, Ray.”

  “You look like hell.” Rubin leaned aside slightly, looking past him. “Where’s Kane?”

  He hesitated for effect. “Dead.”

  This was the riskiest part of the plan. If Rubin knew Kane’s merc handle, if he’d given up his identity to Vecchio, he had no doubt the deputy director would shoot him on the spot. He’d know the mercs were looking for Kane right now, that he was still very much alive. And the man already had his gun out, so there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it.

  “Christ,” Rubin practically spat. “How?”

  Jude managed not to shudder in relief. “I took your advice and shot him in the back,” he said. “After he defected to the mercs and had them try to kill me. You were right, Ray. He couldn’t be trusted.”

  A dark look flashed across Rubin’s face. “Where’s the body? I’ll need to send a team to collect him.”

  “Good luck with that,” Jude said. “He’s in some warehouse down by the Burlington Crown. Him and three dead mercs. The Black Strings probably cleaned the place out by now.”

  “Well. I suppose they have.” The tightness eased from his features until his expression was a careful blank. “But if he’s down there, what are you doing out here?”

  “Heard them mention an address while they were beating on me. I came out here to find it, and the GPS pointed me here.” He held both arms out, gestured around. “Don’t see anything but a bunch of storage buildings, though. I was thinking I’d try to get a warrant to search them.”

  “Huh,” Rubin said. He looked past him again, longer this time. “Yes, it looks like there’s nothing out here.”

  Keep him talking. Kane and Natalie should be in position by now. He didn’t dare look toward the sedans or the building between the vehicles and the road. “So, Kane told me something before I shot him,” he said. “He claimed he was innocent.”

  Rubin huffed. “There’s no innocent bone in that man’s body,” he said. “But I’m curious now. Innocent of what?”

  “Killing Sarah.”

  “And you believed him?” Rubin laughed softly. “Who did he try to pin it on?”

  “He said you killed her.”

  “Really.” The faint amusement vanished. “Why would I do that?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  “This is ridiculous, Wyland,” he said. “How hard did they hit you in the head?”

  “You know, maybe I could understand. Even forgive you for it. It’s the job, right? Always the job. There’s just one thing I’m not clear on.” He broke off, deliberately stepped back and cut a gaze beyond Rubin, toward the parked cars.

  Rubin turned to look.

  It was just a glance over his shoulder, but it was enough time for Jude to draw his Beretta. As he raised the gun, Rubin raised his just as fast. Stalemate.

  Jude glared at him. “How long?”

  “What?”

  “How long have you been working with the Black Strings, Ray?” He refused to blink, but Rubin wouldn’t either. “Before Sarah. Before Kane went in, I know that. So what’s the deal here? What’s the endgame?”

  This time, his laugh was cold. “You’ve lost your mind, Wyland. Cracked under the pressure.”

  “I saw you.” Jude kept the gun steady. Caught the flicker of motion from the corner of his eye, just behind Rubin. “There is something here besides the storage place. A bunker, down there past the tree line. I saw you go in there and pay them off.”

  Rubin wasn’t smiling any more. “Well. That is a shame, Agent Wyland,” he said. “It’s too bad you’re going to die in the line of duty. Don’t worry, though. Since you’ve been reactivated, you’ll have full departmental funeral benefits.”

  “So you’re just going to gun me down?” he said. “I thought you wanted Kane to make it look like an accident.”

  “He told you that, too.” Rubin sighed. “You know, I didn’t mind killing Sarah. She was getting greedy. Thought she could blackmail me, after she found out about my … partnership with Vecchio. I really didn’t want to kill you,” he said. “But you had to drag that psychopath back into this. You couldn’t just do your job.”

  The confirmation that Ray Rubin had killed his partner left him cold, but he pressed on. “How are you going to kill me, when we’ve both got each other dead to rights?”

  “Simple. Because you won’t,” he said. “If you were going to shoot me, you would’ve done it already.”

  “Oh, I absolutely would shoot you. I’m sure you have your doubts, but that’s all right.” This time, Jude grinned. “Just don’t doubt for a second that he won’t.”

  “What the hell are you—”

  He stopped talking instantly as Kane pressed the muzzle of a gun to the back of his head. “Director Rubin,” he said, calm as a frozen lake. “Make me a happy man and give me a reason to pull this trigger.” He pushed harder, until the man gasped. “Matter of fact, I’m not sure I need a reason. I’ve already got three years’ worth of them.”

  With a vicious sneer, Rubin raised his arms slowly. “I see you’re working with your old partner again, Wyland,” he said, biting off every word. “How long do you think it’ll
be before he slips the knife in your back instead of mine?”

  “Stop talking.” Jude reached out, twisted the gun from his hand and shoved it in his own waistband. “You’re under arrest, asshole.”

  His eyes widened briefly. “You’ve got to be kidding,” he said. “This is all your word against mine. An ex-agent who left on bad terms and a goddamned lunatic who’s been scrubbed, versus a deputy director. And you think anyone’s going to listen to you?”

  “They don’t have to listen to me.” Jude pulled out his phone and showed Rubin the active recording app on the screen. “They’re going to hear it from you.”

  Rubin snarled. “Son of a—”

  “It’s not just their word, either.” Natalie emerged from behind the sedans with a grim expression and her weapon out, trained on Rubin. “How about an active senior agent with a sterling record? By the way, I’ve got a team headed here to bring you in for debriefing.” One corner of her mouth lifted. It was not a happy expression. “They aren’t going to debrief you politely.”

  Without warning, Rubin moved. Fast.

  He dropped beneath the gun at his head, at the same time lunging for Jude. He’d jerked the piece Jude had tucked in his waistband free and lifted it before Jude could readjust his aim. His finger was on the trigger. A shot rang out.

  Rubin staggered and fell.

  Jude stared from the deputy director to Kane, who was holding his gun at a slightly downward angle with smoke curling from the muzzle. “Damn it, we needed him alive! What he said wasn’t enough to clear you.”

  “Relax, Boy Scout.” Kane prodded Rubin with a foot, and the man groaned and stirred. “It was just a .22 to the leg. He’ll survive.” A grin twitched across his lips. “Can’t say I didn’t enjoy the hell out of that, though. Mind if I do it again?”

  Jude managed to smile back. “Much as I’d like to agree, I think you should hold off for now,” he said. “We need him conscious. He’s still got a lot of talking to do.”

  “Exactly.” Natalie was already crouching beside the deputy director, a set of handcuffs at the ready. “And he can start by telling us where they’re keeping Valerie Noakes.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Nine hours of overnight interrogation, and Ray Rubin still insisted he had no idea where the girl was. In fact, he seemed to find it hilarious that they kept asking.

  Last night Natalie had transmitted all the evidence against Rubin to D.C. headquarters, and then checked the three of them into a nearby hotel. Separate rooms. She hadn’t even questioned whether Kane would take off. After a solid six or seven hours of sleep and a hot shower, Jude was starting to feel functional again by the time they arrived at the field office.

  This morning there was a new deputy executive director in from Washington to head things up. His name was Clancy Boyd, and he looked like the last time he’d smiled was sometime in the 1960s. He’d restored Natalie’s position as lead agent on the Noakes case. Right now he was in the interrogation room with Rubin, while Jude and Kane stood watching from observation.

  So far they’d learned that Rubin’s main objective had been Senator Bromwell. Despite the CIA’s official stance against the man, Rubin wanted him in the governor’s office. He wouldn’t say why. That, at least, explained why he’d removed Natalie when she went after Bromwell so hard, and even why he’d hired Jude as an investigator. He wanted the field team steered off the mercs’ scent so they wouldn’t find out about his involvement, and he’d known Jude would recognize the apparent setup with the garrote in the little girl’s room.

  If it was a setup. Maybe they actually had gotten sloppy during the kidnapping. But Rubin was damned convincing in his insistence that the Black Strings hadn’t taken Valerie.

  He was also far too smug for a man facing a boatload of federal charges.

  Boyd was coming out of the interrogation room. As the door shut behind the other deputy director, Rubin turned his head to face the one-way glass. “Wyland. Kane. I know you’re there,” he said. A cold smile crept across his face. “You don’t really think I won’t be able to get out of this. Do you?”

  Jude actually thought there was a good chance he’d slip the charges somehow. But he wasn’t going to think about that yet. They still had a job to do — Valerie Noakes had a little more than twenty-four hours before her kidnappers took action, one way or another.

  And once again, they were back to square one trying to find her.

  “Gentlemen.” Director Boyd had come into observation. “I’m afraid the news isn’t good.”

  “Yeah, we know,” Kane said. “He has no idea where the kid is.”

  “While that’s true, it isn’t what I meant.” Boyd gave him a hard look. “Mr. Kane, Director Rubin’s confession regarding the death of Agent Thorne may clear you of that particular charge, but not all the others.”

  Kane went still. “What others?”

  “Where should I start? The list is very long,” he said. “Over a one-year period, you racked up at least six counts of murder, fourteen counts of aggravated assault, eight counts of bribing or manipulating a public figure—”

  “Hold it,” Kane snarled. “You mean while I was undercover with the mercs? Where Rubin sent me? I had carte blanche deniability. Full protection.”

  “Not according to our records, you didn’t.”

  “Yeah, he did,” Jude said. “At least that’s what he was told. That’s the exact same story Ray gave me — that Kane had full Agency clearance to do whatever it took to gain their trust and get actionable intel.”

  “We have no record of that.” Boyd sighed briskly. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kane, but unless we find evidence to the contrary, you’ll have to remain in custody.” The hard look returned. “Frankly, given the extreme nature of your crimes, I’m inclined to see you incarcerated even with proof of deniability.”

  Jude took a half-step in front of Kane, in case he was inclined to see Director Boyd lose a few teeth. “You’re not sending him back to the hotbox. Period.”

  “Hotbox?” A dry blink served as Boyd’s indication of surprise. “No, of course not,” he said. “He’ll be returned to the federal penitentiary where he’s served the last three years.”

  “Oh, that’s it. I’m gonna pull his spine out through his asshole.” Kane slammed a palm against the one-way glass. “You hear me, Rubin, you sick son of a bitch?” he shouted. “I’ll rip that stupid smile off your face and make you eat it!”

  “Mr. Kane—”

  “Don’t you speak to me, you goddamned shirt. You brass are all the same.” His eyes glittered with cold promise. “You really think I spent the last three years in a federal fucking pen?”

  “Director Boyd, he was in a hotbox at the Bahamas black site. I flew down myself to get him out, along with Agent Moore,” Jude said. “You can get confirmation from her.”

  Boyd’s mouth pressed to a thin line. After a long moment, he said, “The provisional executive release is still in effect until the conclusion of this investigation. At that point, Mr. Kane will be taken into custody and remanded to a federal prison. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to process Director Rubin.”

  The fury coming off Kane could’ve set the air on fire as Boyd left the observation room.

  “Goddamn it,” Jude said. “Listen, I won’t let them pull this stunt. All right? You’re not going to any kind of prison.”

  “Yeah. I am.” Kane made a weary gesture, and most of the anger drained from him. “I didn’t kill Sarah. But I’ve done … well, everything that brass-plated asshole just rattled off, and more. Shit you can’t even imagine.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “They won’t cut me loose. But that’s all right,” he said. “Federal prison, it’s not so bad. At least I’ll get three hots and a cot.”

  Jude grunted, not quite an agreement. More that he’d drop it for now — but somehow, he’d make sure Kane never went back behind bars. “So now what?” he said.

  “Same as always,” Kane said with a half-shrug. “We do the job
.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Natalie met them in the conference room. And she took a bit of offense to the latest development.

  “What do you mean, they’re sending you to prison?” she said. “They can’t do that—”

  “They can. And they will.” Kane cut her off with a brusque tone. “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. Just work the case, while we still can.”

  She sent a concerned look at Jude. “Isn’t there anything we can do?”

  “Yeah. Find evidence that Ray Rubin is a lying sack of shit.” He frowned at nothing in particular. “Anyway, we have to keep going. Valerie is running out of time.”

  “Like I need to be reminded of that.” Natalie paced a few steps, stopped and glanced at the window. “We have zero leads left,” she said. “Right now, I need to move forward with the ransom. I have a meeting with financial about the funding request in fifteen minutes.” She glanced at her watch. “Okay, ten minutes.”

  “What about the press conference?” Jude said. “That was the original demand. Noakes is supposed to withdraw from the race.”

  “Right. I have a couple of guys contacting the media, setting that up for first thing tomorrow morning. We just have to find the D.A. and prep him for that.”

  Jude frowned. “What do you mean, find him?”

  “He went to work this morning, but he’s not in his office.”

  “And you’re not concerned about that,” Kane said dryly. “Like, I don’t know, maybe these scumbags decided to skip the hassle with the kid and go straight for the source. Bump off Daddy instead.”

  Natalie gave him a searing look. “You know, if I wasn’t aware of your personal issues, I’d be really pissed at you right now.”

  “Oh, I haven’t even started getting personal yet.”

  “Anyway,” she said firmly. “It’s not that unusual for a district attorney to not be at his desk all day. We’ve left messages for him. If he doesn’t get back to us soon, we’ll contact his security detail and find him that way.” She held up a finger and turned to Jude. “Speaking of,” she said. “We checked into Vault Securities, and Noakes hired them directly. Rubin had nothing to do with it.”