The Spy Game (A Tanner Novel Book 21)

by Remington Kane

  Alyona stared down at the photo. Her hands began to quiver as tears flowed down her cheeks.

  “Ivan is alive? I was told by the authorities he had been shot and killed before making it across the border.”

  The old woman broke down and wept hard. Sara reached across to grip her hand, but Alyona yanked free of her. It took several minutes until she composed herself and spoke again.

  “I actually mourned this bastard at first, even knowing that he had used me. All my love for him died after I was tortured… and I lost my sweet little Valencia. And now, to discover that Ivan has been alive all this time and living a prosperous life… I…I… please, leave me alone. I can’t talk anymore.”

  Sara stood as Alyona began crying again, and she and Durand left the room. As they were walking down the corridor and headed to the parking lot, Sara wiped at her own tears.

  “I knew I would be opening an old wound, still, I had no idea she had believed a lie all these years.”

  “The Soviet government kept many secrets, Sara. It’s not surprising they wouldn’t admit that Hanover had successfully infiltrated their research facility and made it back to America.”

  Sara looked over her shoulder toward Alyona’s room.

  “I want to stay here for another day. I want to speak to her again when the shock wears off.”

  “All right, but she doesn’t seem as if she’ll be much help to you.”

  “On the contrary, Alyona Petrov might be perfect.”

  “You’ve come up with a plan?”

  “Maybe. I’ll know once I’ve spoken to Alyona again.”

  “The poor woman. She must truly hate Hanover.”

  “That’s what I’m counting on,” Sara said.

  21

  Double Agent

  Tanner rapped his knuckles lightly on the driver’s side door of the limousine while pointing his gun up at the face of its driver. He had moved along the length of the vehicle while crouched low beneath the level of the windows.

  The guy had been in the process of lighting a cigarette; he fumbled it along with the lighter he was holding. Tanner still had the gun he’d plucked from the hand he had severed with the machete. When the man inside the car saw it pointed at him, he held out his hands to show they were empty.

  Tanner made a twirling motion with a finger to indicate that the man should lower the window.

  “All of them,” Tanner whispered in Italian.

  When the man complied, and every window was down, Tanner could see that there was no one else inside the car. He leaned on the driver’s window sill and spoke to him again in Italian.

  “Did Cal Vernon send you?”

  “I speak English. I’m a Canadian.”

  “I don’t care what language you use, just answer my question.”

  “Mr. Vernon sent me, yes. I’m his driver. He wants to talk to you, Ryan.”

  “In Florence?”

  “He’s nearby. He left Florence after learning that the attack on Mr. Langren failed.”

  “You admit Vernon was behind that?”

  “Why not? I can always lie later.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Tremblay.”

  “Where does Vernon want to meet? I’m not walking into a trap.”

  “There’s a wine bar three or four blocks east of here.”

  “I know, I’ve driven past it.”

  “Mr. Vernon will meet you there in an hour. I’ll be with him, but that’s it. Will you come?”

  “I’ll be there, but from where I sit, I’m already on the winning side.”

  “I like Scott Langren, but he can’t compete with Mr. Vernon. Just so you know, Mr. Vernon pays well. He’s a man who understands that loyalty comes with a price.”

  Tanner lowered the gun. “I’ll listen to him.”

  “I hope you join us. I think I’d rather work with you than against you.”

  “I’ll see you in one hour,” Tanner said.

  Tremblay drove off. When he was out of sight, Tanner began walking in the other direction. He was heading to the wine bar while circling around to it and casting an eye about for a trap or an ambush. Tanner made a point not to look at the car that contained Langren’s remaining bodyguard.

  The man would follow him to the wine bar and see him meet with Cal Vernon. Depending on what Vernon said, Tanner might have to kill the bodyguard, then return to the veterinarian’s house and kill Langren. In any event, he would choose a path that would get him closer to his target, Owen Bishop.

  The wine bar had a medium-size crowd and was brightly lit. Tanner didn’t know what Cal Vernon looked like, but he did know Tremblay. Tremblay was seated at a round black table with a tall man in his thirties who had dark-brown hair and green eyes. They were drinking wine from a bottle that sat on the table.

  After Tremblay spotted him walking toward them, he whispered something to the man with him.

  When the man looked his way, he saw him studying him as if to take his measure. As Tanner grew closer, the man gestured for him to sit at the table. As Tanner did so, Tremblay stood and walked over to lean against the bar, where he was out of hearing range.

  “I’m Cal Vernon, Mr. Ryan, and you have been a tremendous pain in my ass.”

  “How’s that?”

  “You keep giving my money back to Langren.”

  “He was on his way to Florence to give it to you. If you had been patient you’d already have it.”

  Vernon’s smile grew into a sly grin.

  “I was hoping to get my hands on it in secret.”

  “Are you admitting that you’re working against Owen Bishop?”

  “I like Owen, but the man has me backed into a corner.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Think about it? Owen Bishop is the leader of our organization and the people in the lower echelons love him. Many joined because their parents were members and had followed Bishop’s father. They continue to donate and attend anti-government protest rallies because they believe in the man. If I or anyone else attempted to take his place, we would have a tough row to hoe and the organization would fall apart.”

  “A true zealot could keep things together,” Tanner said.

  Vernon laughed. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, Ryan. I’m not a true believer. I can spout the rhetoric with the best of them, but I really don’t give a damn how the world’s governments shear their sheep. I did know that I could rise high in an organization like ours, and I did, however, I want more.”

  Tanner was about to say, “You want control of the data drive,” then he remembered that as Steve Ryan he should have no knowledge that it exists. Instead, he asked. “What more is there if you don’t want to take Bishop’s place?”

  “Much more,” Vernon said. “Owen has information he plans to sell a piece at a time to those that can use it.”

  “Like what?”

  “Remember we checked you out? That means somebody took your picture, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Part of that screening process had to do with running your photo through a facial recognition algorithm. The only thing is, Bishop has his own data base that contains the face of every person who has gone through a police or military academy and boot camp. It’s a massive amount of data that goes back decades. To top that off, the man recently hacked into government databases and copied personnel files. And not just the United States, but some other countries too, like Britain and Mexico.”

  Tanner nodded with interest and realized Benedetti and Hanover had kept hidden the fact that Bishop’s list contained foreign agents as well as U.S. personnel.

  Once they gained control of that data they could use it to run a search for any foreign agents working within the United States. They could also take Bishop’s place and sell out foreign agents for profit. That was something Tanner did not put past either of them.

  “So, you want that data, so you can sell it instead, is that it?”

  “No, Ryan. I
think Owen doesn’t realize what a target he’s become by stealing the data. The U.S. has already tried to kill him. The longer he holds on to that data the greater the risk, so I had a better idea. I’m going to hold an auction and hand it over to the highest bidder.”

  “I can see how that makes sense, but how are you going to get the data away from Bishop?”

  Vernon sighed. “I’ll have to kill him.”

  “From what I’ve seen and heard that won’t be easy. Does the man ever meet anyone in person?”

  “He’ll meet with me, and he wears that damn data drive around his neck.”

  “Bishop must have the device password protected. What if he won’t give up that information?”

  “I have a hacker standing by who says he can get the password from that drive. As far as setting up the auction, it’s already done. Bishop gave a demonstration recently of what he could do when he identified a team of American agents sent to kill him. He sent copies of their photos along to several interested parties along with a simulation that displayed how they were identified, despite wearing disguises. Bishop told them that they could eliminate other operatives and spies working in their organizations the same way.”

  “For a healthy fee?” Tanner said.

  “That was the idea, but see, Bishop placed me in charge of that project. Instead of telling them we would charge a fee, I set a date for an auction, a date that’s rapidly drawing near.”

  “You’re running out of time. If Bishop gets wind of what you’ve done, you’re dead.”

  “I had that man wrapped around my finger until that fool Langren started placing doubt in his mind. I need Langren dead and that bank money in my hands. I want you to help me with that, Ryan.”

  “You want me to kill Langren?”

  “Or you can tell me where he is, and I’ll kill him. I’ll also let you keep a good chunk of that bank loot for yourself.”

  “It’s a tempting offer, but I’ll have to decline.”

  “Why?” Vernon said, as his face reddened with anger.

  “It’s simple. Right now, I’m on the winning side. I can stay on that side and make sure you lose by telling Langren what you just told me.”

  “Ryan, if you don’t join me you won’t live long enough to talk to anybody.”

  Tanner stood, and Vernon reached out a hand and gripped his wrist. When Tanner looked down at the man he saw that Cal Vernon’s eyes were ablaze with fury. Several of the bar’s patrons noticed the scene, and the volume of conversations dimmed.

  “You either switch sides or you’re dead,” Vernon told him. He was so angry he was forcing the words out through clenched teeth.

  Tanner twisted his wrist free of Vernon’s grip and headed out the bar’s rear exit, which was the closest one.

  “Fool,” Vernon said, as he took out his phone and dialed his bodyguard. “Karl, Ryan left out the back and is headed your way. Break anything on him you want but I need him alive, so I can question him about Langren’s whereabouts.”

  “I’ll bust up his knees and toss him in the back of the limo,” Karl said. He had a gruff voice and spoke English with a German accent.

  “Make the bastard suffer,” Vernon said.

  Outside, Karl put away his phone and brought out a thick metal pipe he often used. He was tucked inside a darkened alcove and listening for the sound of footsteps coming down the alley that led to the front of the bar.

  When the footsteps came, Karl readied himself to strike. As the sound grew closer, he smiled in anticipation of the pain he would cause.

  Vernon left the wine bar several minutes later with Tremblay at his side. As he approached the limo from the passenger side, he could hear moaning coming from within and wondered how seriously Karl had injured Ryan.

  Tremblay opened the door for his boss but then jumped back in shock. Karl was lying across the rear seat of the limo and his mouth was a bloody mess.

  “I knocked most of his teeth out with that metal rod of his,” Tanner said.

  Vernon and Tremblay spun around and saw that Tanner was pointing a gun at them.

  “Easy,” Tanner said. “I just want to talk.”

  Vernon let out a huff of breath and stared at the gun.

  “I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”

  “Langren’s bodyguard was following me tonight. I’m sure he was watching us talk inside the bar and he saw me turn down your offer.”

  “Does this mean you’ll kill Langren for me?”

  “No, and I also won’t reveal to him what you told me. I’ve decided to wait and see what develops. You may come out ahead, Vernon, or Owen Bishop may wise up and have you killed. Once I know what the likelier outcome is, I’ll make my move.”

  Vernon let out a laugh.

  “You’re no one’s fool, Ryan, I’ll give you that. All right, we’ll play it your way, and I’ll come out on top. You’ll see.”

  “If it looks like that’s going to happen I’ll kill Langren for you, or Bishop, but I won’t follow you down in flames.”

  “When Langren’s man reports back to him that we argued, Langren will trust you even more.”

  Tanner smiled. “Like you said before, the man’s a fool.”

  22

  The Question

  In the morning, Tanner returned to the home belonging to the veterinarian and found Langren looking better, although the man was still weakened from the wound he had suffered. The bodyguard who had followed Tanner the night before was there as well. Tanner wondered why the man was giving him dirty looks. The mystery was solved when Langren told Tanner he was making him his new bodyguard.

  “I’ve never guarded anyone before.”

  “You kept my ass alive yesterday, so that’s good enough for me. When Max there recovers from his broken arm he’ll guard me, until then, he’ll only be a driver.”

  Tanner looked at the bodyguard.

  “I thought the other one was named Max?”

  “He was, they had the same name, and yeah, it got confusing at times.”

  “We’re not still going to Florence, are we?”

  “Hell no. I had a talk with Bishop late last night and he agreed to have a face to face to hash this out. Not just with me, but with Cal Vernon too.”

  “A video conference?”

  “Do you have your passport with you.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good, because we’ll be traveling to France tomorrow. I’m going to make Bishop see what a snake Cal Vernon is, and then I’ll be his right-hand man.”

  “About Vernon, I met him in town last night. He tried to turn me against you and he’s not as loyal as Bishop thinks.”

  Langren glanced over at his wounded bodyguard, Max.

  “I told you he would bring it up.”

  Tanner feigned surprise by looking back and forth between the two men.

  “You already knew that I spoke with Vernon?”

  “I had Max follow you, broken arm and all. He said you pissed Cal off somehow.”

  “You’re right about him. The man is a weasel, and he still wants that bank money.”

  “The money is gone. Bishop sent two of his bodyguards here to get it. They came by here at five a.m.; by now, that money is far out of Cal Vernon’s reach.”

  In Florence, Cal Vernon was laughing as he opened the backpack with the bank money in it. Standing beside him were the two bodyguards Owen Bishop had sent to pick up the cash. Unbeknownst to Bishop, Cal Vernon had the loyalty of many of his security personnel.

  “Finally,” Vernon said, “and now we can move ahead with our plans.”

  “That needs to take place soon or Mr. Bishop will realize the money never made it into his safe. If that happens he’ll have us killed.”

  “How much does he keep in there?”

  The man whistled softly as he thought about the contents of the safe.

  “There’s stacks of cash, dollars and euros; it’s got to be close to a million. Plus, there’s some gold and his personal jewelry.”
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  “Once I take over, you and the others can have it all.”

  “You don’t want any of it?”

  “It will be a pittance compared to what I take in at the auction.”

  “The auction isn’t for three days. Bishop has to be gone by then.”

  “He will be, but I’ll need your help again.”

  “What kind of help?”

  “I’ll be in France tomorrow, to meet with Bishop and Scott Langren. I’ll need you to make sure that the guards who aren’t with us won’t be a problem.”

  The guard showed displeasure at that idea.

  “Some of those men are still my friends, Mr. Vernon. I won’t kill them.”

  “Then don’t. Hell, drug them, stun them, or send them on a wild goose chase, but you need to make sure that you’re in control when I meet with Bishop.”

  “Yeah, I can do that.”

  “Good man,” Vernon said. “Everything is finally coming together.”

  Tanner slipped outside to make a call to Benedetti while Langren and Max were getting their bandages changed. He told her about his conversation with Cal Vernon and that he was now playing both sides. When she learned there was a chance that Tanner would get a shot at killing Bishop, Tanner heard pleasure in her voice.

  “Your bumbling might pay off after all, Tanner, but make sure you wind up on the winning side of this feud between Langren and Vernon.”

  “I can’t miss.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Whichever side I choose will win.”

  “You’re an arrogant bastard.”

  “And you’re a bitch,” Tanner said, and ended the call.

  Later, in Anchorage, Alaska, Sara and Durand entered Alyona Petrov’s hospital room and found her looking pensive as she stared out a window. The window offered a view of a roof. Her roommate was there, and the old Eskimo woman was sleeping soundly, likely due to drugs.

  When Alyona turned and saw them, she nodded.