“Put them through,” he said.
Tauna plugged the memory card inside her laptop. A progress bar appeared, quickly transmitting the photos from the card to Dante's computer over his secure connection. She watched as his jubilant demeanor darkened.
“Now do you see why I'm worried?” she asked.
“Yes, I do,” said Dante. “Christian Pierce, you cheeky son of a bitch.”
“It's no coincidence Pierce just happened to be in the park at the same time as Lockhart was plugging a leak.”
“No, you're right about that. If Pierce was there, that means Anton was going to meet him. Which means he's the man Anton had been talking with.”
“And he didn't take out Lockhart, didn't arrest her, nothing. He bought her coffee, flirted and invited her to dinner.”
“I don't need you to spell it out for me, my dear. It's obvious Pierce thinks he can hedge his losses by getting to me through Angela.”
“This isn't something we can permit, sir.”
“I know.”
“Do we kill him?”
“No, not yet,” said Dante. “I want to see how this plays out for a little.”
“Forgive me for questioning your judgment, but why aren't we simply killing him?”
“Because Angela Lockhart is not an idiot, that's why,” said Dante. “If we kill Pierce now, that makes him a martyr. Angela doesn't know he's with the Agency, so she'll get suspicious. She'll suspect us for the hit. No, we have to treat this situation very delicately.”
“What do you propose?”
“Do you know this place he's taking her to?”
“Yes, some Japanese restaurant on the east side.”
“Are there any viable targets out in that area?” asked Dante.
“No one that poses a threat to us, but also no one that would be missed,” said Tauna. “There are some yakuza elements around there, though.”
“Ugh, I hate the bloody yakuza.”
“I know.”
“Pick someone who's going to be there and have Angela hit him,” said Dante. “Give her the assignment the day she's supposed to meet with Pierce. And inform her the hit has to be completed that night.”
“What's the purpose of that?” asked Tauna.
“The purpose is to see how well she performs under pressure,” said Dante. “Not only that, but if she's discovered by the Good Mr. Pierce, we'll see how he reacts to her as well.”
“If you don't mind my saying sir, you are a genius.”
“I know, but I do so love to hear it,” he said with a grin. “Get to work, I'm going to make preparations to come up there.”
“Sir?”
“As I said before, this is a very delicate situation,” said Dante. “One that I feel needs more of a hands-on approach from me.”
“I understand, sir. I'll get right on it.”
“That's a good girl.”
CHAPTER 9
Christian lay on his couch dressed only in a pair of sweat pants, a bottle of beer in one hand and the remote control in the other. He flipped through the television stations, trying to find something worth watching, but nothing could catch his interest.
“Unbelievable...”
He heard the doorbell to his apartment ring and pulled himself upright, setting the remote and the beer on the coffee table in front of him. The doorbell kept repeating as he moved closer.
“Okay, okay, keep your shirt on.”
He opened the door and saw Julie Kim standing there with a laptop bag hanging from her shoulder. “Nice to know you're following your own advice.”
“Very funny,” he said, stepping to the side so she could enter. Once she stepped across the threshold, he closed the door behind her and motioned to the couch. “You want a beer?”
“No thanks,” she said, sitting down and opening the case. Christian stepped over to a chair. A button-down shirt had been draped over it and he pulled it on, leaving it unbuttoned. He took his beer and sat down, propping his feet on the coffee table.
“You believe this?” He motioned to the television. “Satellite television, five hundred channels, not a goddamn thing on.”
“Hate to disappoint, but I'm not here to discuss your cable subscription.”
“So what's this about?”
“Anna Lake. Shockingly, she gave you a fake name,” said Julie, taking out a fairly large file from the bag. “Recognition software identified her. You may be surprised at the match.”
Christian opened the file and indeed, his first reaction was one of complete and utter shock. The photograph in the file depicted the woman he met earlier perfectly. And the print-out of her profile stated her name.
“Angela Lockhart,” he said.
“Top of her class at Quantico, recruited and trained by Mason Draconi,” said Julie.
“Draconi, really?”
“You know him?”
“Only by reputation,” said Christian. “He was called the Dragon. One of the Agency's top operatives back in his day. This guy made James Bond look like a pussy.”
“Again with the Bond fixation...” she muttered.
Christian grinned. “Sorry.”
“She was Draconi's prized student, in the remarks he stated that—and I quote—'Lockhart's physical skill is surpassed only by her intellect. She's a natural, equally comfortable in any role she's placed in, whether it's doing undercover work, locating assets or eliminating targets. She is the future of the Agency.'”
“Dante knows how to pick them,” said Christian. He noticed something else. “According to this, she's dead.”
“She was apparently despondent after her husband's death, another operative,” said Julie.
“No shit,” said Christian, now reading the part in the file about her husband. “She was married to Jeff?”
“Jeffrey Beam,” said Julie. “You knew him?”
“We worked on a few jobs together. He was a good guy. Good agent.”
“He died while she was on a job. It was a break-in. Beam was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Bullshit, Jeff was too good to be taken out by some petty thief.”
“That's what Lockhart said. She kept pressuring the Agency to look into his death but they refused. Said it would divert resources needed for more important work.”
“That's pretty cold.”
Julie continued. “She was ordered to undergo a psych evaluation. The therapist noted that Lockhart seemed distant. During the first fifteen minutes of the session, she just sat there silently, not answering any questions, not even acknowledging there was someone else in the room with her.”
“Can you really blame her?” asked Christian.
“I suppose I sympathize on a certain level,” said Julie.
“Not much of a family person I take it?”
“When I was born, my father was killed in a car accident on the way to the hospital. Mom and I were never terribly close.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Ancient history,” said Julie. “Anyway, it was the therapist's recommendation that Lockhart be removed from active duty pending psychological treatment. She went on a vacation and while diving, she never returned. Missing, presumed dead.”
“And then several months later, she turns up in a park and kills our snitch.”
“Looks like Dante has himself his very own Agency operative.”
“It doesn't mean anything.” He dropped the file on the table and walked towards the kitchen with the empty beer bottle.
“What are you talking about?” She followed him into the kitchen as he grabbed a fresh bottle from the refrigerator. “Christian, this woman is ex-Agency. If she's on Infernum's payroll, that makes her a massive security risk. You know the protocol on this.”
Christian popped open the bottle.
“If an operative defects to enemy territory, they are to be eliminated. No exceptions, no questions asked.” She took the bottle from his hand and slammed it on the counter. “This isn't a ga
me.”
Christian pointed at her. “Wrong, that's exactly what it is. Dante loves playing games. To him, the entire world is nothing more than a massive chessboard.”
Julie shook her head. “We've got a job to do. And if you're not going to do what's necessary, then I will.”
Christian stepped closer, staring her down. “Are you questioning my authority?”
“No, I'm questioning your judgment.”
“Too bad, because where you and I are concerned, I'm the one who makes the rules.”
Julie's hands went to her hips. “I don't respond well to threats, Pierce.”
“If you take out Angela, you take out our one shot of getting inside Dante's organization. She's an extremely valuable asset.”
“What makes you think Dante isn't already aware that you two have made contact? He's probably calling out a hit on her right now.”
“No, he's not.” Christian grabbed the bottle from the counter and walked back into the main room, sitting back in his chair.
“And how can you be so sure?” she asked, stepping into the living room with her arms crossed.
“Because we both need her,” said Christian. “She's a former operative, which means she's very useful to Dante. And since she's working with Infernum, that makes her very useful to us.”
“You're talking like a madman,” said Julie. “If you're not going to do what's necessary, I'm going to go over your head. We'll see what Chandler thinks of this.”
“Don't bring him into this, please. Julie, if Chandler plays this one by the book, we're going to lose. Please, just trust me on this, okay?”
“Why should I?”
“Because Jeff was an excellent judge of character,” said Christian.
Julie scoffed. “There's some good reasoning.”
“Laugh all you want, but it's the truth. If he thought she was trustworthy and decent, then she is. Give me some time and I know I can get her to come back to our side.”
“What if you can't?”
“Then you can kill her and report me to Chandler,” said Christian. “You won't even have to take any responsibility, tell him I had you in the dark the whole time. It's a win-win situation for you. If I'm right, we get Dante. If I'm wrong, you still get a feather in your cap by taking out an Infernum operative and an insubordinate agent.”
“There's another way it can go.”
“And how's that?” asked Christian.
“She could kill you.”
Christian sipped the beer. “I know what I'm doing.”
Julie sighed.
“One month. That's all I'm asking.”
She looked at him, staring into his eyes for a few moments. Christian just stared back at her, waiting for her to speak. She broke her gaze and walked towards the door. “One month. After that, I go to Chandler.”
“Don't forget the file,” said Christian, sitting forward to gather up the papers.
“Keep it. A reminder of what you're up against.”
Christian stood, watching as she opened the door. “Thanks, Jules. Not only for giving me a pass, but for watching my back in general.”
“I'm just doing my job, Pierce,” she said. “But a word to the wise—if you play this your way, I'm not going to be there to watch your back. Not all the time, anyway.”
“I know,” he said.
Once the door closed, he sat back down with a sigh. He looked down at the photo of Angela and shook his head as he sipped the beer.
“A fine mess you've gotten yourself into, Pierce.”
CHAPTER 10
Angela had just spent the morning at the local firing range. After a quick lunch at a hot dog stand, she arrived home. But once she entered the apartment, she heard a light ringing. Almost like bells. Tiny bells.
Her hand went inside her jacket, drawing the Desert Eagle from the holster. She pushed her back to the right wall, inching along as she approached the opening to the living room. She held the gun down and quickly swung into the opening, raising it with a snap and pointing it at the source of the sound.
A Filipino woman sat in Angela's chair. Her long, bronze legs crossed, a file open on her lap, her left hand turning the pages. In her right hand she held two metal chi balls which she absently spun in her palm. The source of the ringing. A thin pair of wire-framed glasses rested at the edge of her nose.
“An effective response.” She spoke without raising her head or even shifting her eyes from the file. “But the response time from entering to confrontation leaves something to be desired.”
“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my apartment?” Angela's voice remained steady and even, yet it also reflected a strong tone of anger.
“My name is Tauna, an associate of Dante.” Contrary to Angela, her voice lacked even the slightest hint of emotion. “I have your next assignment.”
“The hell you do. My arrangement is to work through Dante and him alone.” Angela stepped closer towards the woman, the gun fixed on Tauna's forehead. “I don't do errand boys.”
“I'm quite aware of your arrangement with my employer.” Tauna raised her head to finally look at Angela, removing her glasses. There seemed to be a hint of gold present in her gaze. “However, he has requested that I be brought in, to ensure that you remain—well, let's just say focused.”
“This is complete and total bullshit,” said Angela. “You can go tell your master that we either stick to the terms he gave me or I walk.”
“Is that so?” Tauna closed the file and stood. “Need I remind you that this deal with you and Dante is mutually beneficial? You do want the identity of your husband's killer, do you not?”
“Not if it means I'm being jerked around.”
“I'll caution you to keep a civil tongue around me, or else I will remove it.”
Angela's trigger finger tightened just a bit. “Sounds to me like a threat by someone who's broken into my home.”
“I promise you, if you pull that trigger, you'll be dead before the bullet reaches the wall.”
“Dante won't be too happy if you kill one of his top assassins.”
“Actually, that would be me,” said Tauna. “While you were playing the good little government stooge for a corrupt superpower, I was serving Dante and a cause higher than you have ever known.”
Angela raised an eyebrow but her gun remained fixed. “Higher cause, huh? I've heard people spout nonsense like that before.”
“Dante sent me because this is an urgent matter, one which must be handled tonight. He's been called away on business, but he told me you must complete this task.”
“I'm not so sure I believe you,” said Angela. “How do I know you're not with the Agency?”
Tauna narrowed her eyes. “You know better than anyone that the Agency does not handle defection particularly well. If I were with the Agency, I would have slit your throat and been on my way. There wouldn't be any sense in even having this conversation. So you can lower your weapon.”
Angela hesitated. Part of her wanted to pull the trigger, but another part told her Tauna was right. The Agency had been quite clear on their policy of defection—any operative who had defected was considered too dangerous to live and must be dispatched with extreme prejudice. So if this were the case, she would need to listen to what Tauna had to say, would need to ensure that this had all been above board.
Slowly, she lowered her arms. Tauna smiled and sat back down. “Excellent choice, Ms. Lockhart. Now if you'll please sit so we can get down to business?”
“I think I'd rather stand,” said Angela.
Tauna shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She placed her glasses back on and opened the file. A black and white photograph sat at the top, which she handed to Angela. The photo displayed a middle aged Japanese man.
“Sho Murakami,” she said. “Handles some of the Yakuza's business in this area.”
“What's his connection to Dante?”
“That is none of your concern.”
Angela handed the p
hoto back to Tauna. “Then you can find someone else to do this job.”
“I beg your pardon?” asked Tauna.
“You heard me. If Dante wants this done and wants it done tonight, then he needs to give me more. I need to know why this guy is a priority.”
“Because Dante said he is.”
“That line doesn't work on me.”
“Of course, I suspected it wouldn't,” said Tauna. She closed the file and passed the entire thing to Angela. The blond woman began flipping through the pages, trying to see if there would be some other indication of why Dante wanted him dead.
Tauna continued, “Murakami represents the Yakuza and they have proven to be a continuous thorn in Dante's side. Murakami in particular is under investigation by the Department of Justice and his past dealings with Dante could very well be brought forth.”
“How? If the Yakuza have been a pain to Dante—”
“Troublesome does not equal useless. Dante is forced to do business with them if he wants access to the Japanese markets. And he does. Therefore, he is forced to deal with these monsters.”
Angela looked up at the other woman. “Sounds like you have a personal grudge against them.”
“I'm above such petty emotions,” said Tauna. “Dante's training has transformed me into the perfect operative—completely emotionless, completely amoral, and completely devoted to his cause.”
“In other words, you're nothing more than a machine. And that limits your effectiveness. Probably why he's so interested in me. Maybe he wants a new kind of operative working for him.”
Tauna smirked. “Your attempts at arousing jealousy are quite amusing, Ms. Lockhart. What do you hope to accomplish? A cat fight?”
“My trigger finger has been a bit itchy.”
“Then you can scratch it with Mr. Murakami.” Tauna stood once more and clasped her hands behind her back. “I don't think I need to remind you of the agreement you made with Dante. Nor of the consequences if you should happen to violate any of his rules.”
Angela just glared in response.
“I'll take that to mean we understand each other,” said Tauna. “I should let you know that Dante was quite pleased with the way you handled Anton. It took several hours before he was discovered and no witnesses have come forward. They have no suspects.”
Infernum Omnibus Page 6