by L. T. Ryan
“You know you’re gonna have to tell me who was the ones pulling the strings here.”
“Where did the op come from?” Jack asked.
Frank licked the grease off his fingertips. “Where they all come from. A source within the Pentagon suggested something be done about someone who was making too many waves. I looked at the situation and made a call. Whoever offered the op in the first place hadn’t necessarily wanted him dead, but it was an option. Sometimes blackmail is enough to get the job done. In this case, not so much.”
“You didn’t think that would be enough this time?”
“No. His empire was too big. He had his hands in too many pots. It would’ve been impossible to take all of that away from him with a couple of threatening messages.”
“Is there a chance that whoever sent you the op didn’t actually want you to take him out?”
“It’s possible, but again, the discretion was mine. If they didn’t want that option on the table, they would’ve said so.”
I took a drink before I spoke. My mouth was still dry from the flight over. “So we’re looking at an outside source who had access to this information. Someone who saw the op greenlighted and decided to take matters into their own hands.”
“Sounds like it.” Frank swirled his glass around. “So tell me who you think it is. That’s the only way I’m gonna be able to help.”
Jack chewed at the inside of his lip before turning to Frank. “What can you tell us about Daniel Thorne?”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The front door opened and six people walked through. They called out to a few of the patrons at the bar. The bartender smiled and waved them over. Wind blew through the room and sent napkins flying. The whole place seemed to erupt in action.
Except at our table.
Frank was still. So much so I thought he might’ve died on the spot if it weren’t for his eyes blinking. I glanced over at Jack, but he was focused on Frank’s face, trying to read the man.
Jack said, “Frank, what is it?”
Frank ignored him. He rocked back in his chair, rose, and turned to the door. “I need to go.”
Jack grabbed Frank’s arm, stopped him in his tracks. Frank looked back and down at Jack, his eyes narrowed, eyebrows tight together. He wasn’t used to people talking back to him, much less assaulting him in such a way. Not many people could get away with a reaction like that and live to tell about it. It was different with Jack. Maybe because Noble was one of the few people not afraid of Skinner and the SIS.
“We’re the ones who were thrown into the middle of this.” He kept his grip tight on Frank’s arm. “You owe us an explanation.”
Frank ground his teeth but didn’t say anything. He sat back down, only resting on the edge of his seat. Jack let go of his arm and eased forward.
“Daniel Thorne was recommended to me by an associate. Someone I actually considered a friend.”
Jack said, “Which friend?
Frank said, “That’s unimportant.”
I stifled a laugh. “The hell it is. That could be the key to all of this.”
Frank wagged a finger in my face. “I trust my source.”
I smacked it away. “Doesn’t mean we do.”
Frank clasped his hands together. “But you trust me.”
Jack said, “Barely.”
“Look, the source is clean. I’d trust him with my life, no questions asked. It’s an old friend, from way back.”
“Whoever it is, they sent you a double-agent.”
Frank shook his head. “Not intentionally.” Jack made to say something else, but Frank put up a hand. “We can get into it more later, but just trust me on this for right now. The source is clean, even if Thorne isn’t.”
I glanced at Jack and he nodded. We’d let it go, for the moment. But Frank was kidding himself if he thought we weren’t going to have a long discussion about this so-called source at some point soon.
“All right,” Jack said. “Tell us everything you know about Thorne?”
Frank glanced around the room, perhaps to reassess the current clientele. They must’ve passed his eyeball test. “Military brat. Enlisted when he was eighteen. Marines. Reminds me a bit of you, Jack. Hard-headed, stubborn, a pain in the ass. Smart, though. Tactical, cunning, resourceful. Has the ability to spin a story like you wouldn’t believe. Not as good of a fighter or a shot as the two of you, but you could send him into any situation and he’d talk his way out of it without throwing a single punch and then whoever pissed him off, he’d shoot them in the back.”
I figured there was a warning there. “He didn’t seem all too charismatic when we met him.”
“That’s part of his act, trust me. He knew who you were, Jack. Knew both of you. He volunteered to bring you the dossier on the senator.”
Jack leaned back to take it in. “And that didn’t seem strange to you?”
“He’d been restless for a while now. You know what that building is like when you’re stuck in it for a few weeks straight. He’d taken a couple odd jobs here and there, but there was a lot of downtime. Happens sometimes, right? Anyway, he’d done drop-offs like that for me before. I didn’t think anything of it.”
“You underestimated him.”
“I’m fully aware.”
The waitress swung by our table, this time carrying a pint of beer and burger with fries meant for someone else. Frank requested the check. She gave him a quick nod and sped on past.
Jack waited until she was gone before he spoke again. “What would he want with the senator? Goddard mentioned a pipeline?”
Frank’s eyes narrowed. “It was one of his biggest projects. One of the reasons why someone wanted him taken out was because he was getting too greedy. He had half the senate in his pocket. The other half wasn’t too happy about it.”
“So someone in the Senate set up the job?”
Frank wagged his finger. “Don’t play guessing games. You’ll be wrong every time.”
“No, you just won’t tell me when I’m right.”
“Still. There’s no point in trying to figure out who set it up. The fact is we know why.” Frank snapped his mouth shut as the waitress arrived with the check. He waited until she walked away then continued. “Now we just have to figure out the why for Thorne.” He paused a beat. “There could be a million reasons Thorne wanted that pipeline to go through. Maybe he has a stake in it. Maybe he was hired.” Franked tilted his head in Jack’s direction. “That last one is very likely. Like I said, he’s been getting antsy lately.”
I rose and stepped out from the booth. “So where do we find him?”
Frank crossed his arms. “The chances of him coming into the office tomorrow are slim, I’m sure. In fact I’m thinking he might not ever return.”
Jack joined me behind Frank. Skinner didn’t look back at us. Jack said, “Anytime you want to be helpful, Frank, let us know.”
He lowered his head and shook it. “Look, you don’t know this guy’s background. Thorne is good.”
Jack placed one hand on the corner of the table and leaned forward to speak right in Frank’s ear. “We’re better.”
“I’m not gonna argue that, but it doesn’t negate the fact that he’s still good. If he doesn’t want to be found, he’s going to make it pretty damn hard on us. I’ll devote some resources to it, but you may have to reach out to other contacts.”
Jack waved a hand. “We’re already on it.”
Frank raised an eyebrow. “Who?”
“Someone who dealt with this firsthand.”
“Don’t tell me you’re leaning on Vasquez. I know he’s good, but you think that’s the smart move?”
“Absolutely,” Jack said. “Vasquez is an untapped resource. He’s also expendable.”
“Thorne also knows you’ve been in contact with him.”
“He doesn’t know we’ve become friendly, though.”
Frank pushed his drink away, the anger on his face palpable. “I keep telling you not
to underestimate him, Jack. When are you going to listen?”
“Probably never.”
“It’s your funeral.”
“It’ll be yours, too,” I said. “You started this mess, Frank. You’re gonna help us figure out how to clean it up.”
Frank made to say something else, but Jack didn’t let him. “You’re gonna get the check right? You can probably deduct it as a work meeting. I’d say that’s fair.”
We left Frank sitting there, seething on our crumbs. Somehow it’d come back on us. Until then, I enjoyed it.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
June 14th, 2006
I stood inside a used bookstore on an aisle that contained four rows of nudie magazines and eight dedicated to gardening. Guess it was all relative. It smelled like mildew and corn chips. Oddly enough, that turned my stomach a little. Across the street Jack occupied a bistro table under a cherry tree. He held a mug of coffee in one hand, a newspaper in the other. Thorne’s wayfarers were perched on his nose. Anyone passing by might guess Noble hadn’t a care in the world. They were only partially right. It was just that his cares were more complex than the average person.
I heard everything going on around him through my earpiece.
It was a perfect New York City day. One better spent in a park, watching the college girls jog by in their short shorts. Instead we were waiting on Thorne.
We’d dedicated the past two months to tracking him at the cost of everything else. Jack had turned down seven figures in contracts. The process hadn’t been an easy one. We had to keep our distance throughout most of it.
Until now.
The chase went from hot to stale frequently. The closer we got, the further Thorne slipped away. The periods of inactivity grew longer. Nothing about his actions indicated he was on to us, rather this was how he lived now. Maybe because he’d spurred Frank, though Skinner felt that Thorne had ample protection and had no need to fear the reach of the SIS.
Frank was right about many things. Thorne was extremely careful, dropping off the face of the earth it seemed.
If it hadn’t been for Vasquez, we might never have made it this far. He’d first spotted him in Spain. Then in Moscow. We’d followed the trail to both places, but by the time we landed, Thorne had vanished. Week after week the process repeated itself. Frankfurt. Delhi. Tokyo. Melbourne. Copenhagen. Thorne remained a step or two ahead.
Until he decided to return to our home turf. Vasquez pinned him in New York and this time it appeared Thorne had extended business here. With who and for what, we had no idea. And we didn’t care.
I felt we were jumping the gun by moving so fast. All intelligence we had gathered said we had more time. Jack wanted to make an impression. He wanted Thorne to know we were close. Not the smartest move, but restless minds prevailed over patience.
Through a well-placed network of homeless people a la Sherlock Holmes, Jack learned that Thorne had a meeting with an unknown contact at this restaurant. Jack sat in plain sight, not bothering to disguise himself. He was positive Thorne wouldn’t run. Why should he? We were in Manhattan. There were people and cameras everywhere. Nothing would happen. And Thorne could take the opportunity to rub it in Jack’s face that he had eluded them for so long.
Thorne strolled out onto the patio, a smile on his face. He nodded at Jack and then reached out and caught the waitress. He leaned in and spoke to her. She smiled at him, and walked off with her pen to her pad. Thorne watched her walk away, then headed straight for Jack. He pulled out the chair and sat down. The guy was at ease.
The hair on the back on my neck stood on end.
Jack’s breathing quickened.
“Hello, Jack.”
“Thorne.”
“I believe those are my sunglasses.”
Jack adjusted them on his face. “Yeah, but they look so much better on me.”
Thorne pulled a new pair from his breast pocket. “You know what, they do. Why don’t you keep them.”
The waitress brought Thorne his drink. She hovered there for a minute before he finally dismissed her with a gesture of his hand. The man took a languid sip before crossing his legs and hooking an arm over the back of his chair. Mr. Casual just enjoying a morning drink with a friend.
“Why don’t you tell Riley to come on out, Jack?”
“I’m alone. There’s no need to be paranoid.”
“Paranoid keeps me alive. I’m sure you can relate.” Thorne pointed out toward the bookstore. “He’s in there. I saw him go in an hour ago.”
Jack glanced up at the high-rises then looked in my direction. He hesitated a beat, then nodded. I left the lookout, crossed the street, and joined them at the table.
“You want a drink, Riley?” Thorne held his glass up to me.
“I’m good.”
Thorne took another sip. “Suit yourself.”
“You knew we were here.” Jack didn’t ask it as a question.
“Of course I did. You’ve been following me for months. You think this was a lucky break?” He air-quoted the last two words.
Jack and I exchanged a look. Both of us hated when people used air quotes.
Thorne smiled, lifting his index finger off his glass and pointing at us. “You did, didn’t you. Look, boys, no offense, but you’re not as good as you think you are. Better than most?” He held up his other hand and teetered it side to side. “Maybe. You shouldn’t have been able to find me at all, so kudos to you. I gotta tell you, I was getting sick of bouncing around every few days. That’s why I came back here. I can handle the fallout here so much better than in another country.”
“We know what you’re up to, Thorne,” Jack said. “It’s time to come in.”
Thorne’s smile lingered. “You two have no idea what I’m up to. You know I wanted Goddard dead, but you still have no idea why. And you won’t ever know. I recommend you give up trying to figure it out.”
“If you knew us as well as you thought you did, you’d realize we’re too stupid to give up even when all the evidence points to it being the right thing to do.”
“You did your job,” Thorne said. “You got paid. Why do you even care? Do you need a gold sticker on your chart, too? Well, gosh, I’ll make sure to put one on there next time I’m visiting the Pentagon.”
“I don’t like being played.”
“Get used to it, Jack. You’re not going to win this one. And if you keep trying, I’m going to be compelled to start interfering in your business. Would you like that? Do you want me snooping around, getting involved?”
“You don’t know me,” Jack said. “You only think you do.”
“I know you better than you think I do.” Thorne drained his glass and rose. He faced the breeze, closed his eyes and breathed deeply as he dropped a couple bills on the table. “Drink’s on me, Jack. Enjoy.”
I hopped up and blocked Thorne’s path. “You’re not leaving.”
Thorne looked around. “There’s literally a hundred ways for me to go here. You can’t stop me, Riley.”
“Bet on it.”
“I would, but you’d lose.”
“Bear.” Jack’s voice told me something was wrong.
I glanced over to see Jack staring at my chest. “Should I have brought you a few of those magazines?”
He said nothing. Shook his head. Kept staring.
I glanced down and saw trio of red dots dancing across my torso. For some reason I stopped breathing.
Thorne patted my chest and lifted an eyebrow. “Like I said, you’d lose.”
Jack stood slowly. “We’re not going to stop tracking you down, Thorne. You can bet on that.”
Thorne shook his head. “Even with your partner moments from death, you still can’t stop. My God, I’d marry you if I was into that kind of thing.” He turned and took a few steps. “Just remember, Jack, I can’t be held responsible for the consequences you’ll endure. Have you spoken to Sadie, by the way? How’s she doing?”
“You leave her out of this. This is be
tween us.”
Thorne held up his hands in surrender and backed away. “Just a friendly question, Jack. But something to keep in mind.” Thorne turned and walked toward the small iron gate, tossing one more comment over his shoulder as he stepped over it. “Those glasses really do look better on you. I hope they’re not the only thing you take away from this.”
THE END
Thorne hasn’t seen the last of Bear & Noble! The duo will be back to deal with him later this year.
Until then, catch up on their adventures in the Jack Noble series - Links for all books below!
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