Noble Intentions: Season Three

by L. T. Ryan

  Jack said, “Now come have a seat at the table.”

  “You’ve any idea what you’re doing, Noble?”

  Jack glared at Mason. The guy had used his name so that Gloria heard it. That could cause problems later.

  “I know exactly what I’m doing,” Jack said.

  “I’m not necessary here,” Gloria said. “Mason, tell him I shouldn’t be here.”

  “Any ideas on how to get her to shut up?” Jack said.

  “Good luck with that, mate,” Mason said.

  Gloria leaned back in her chair, fired a look at Mason. Jack knew that no words had to be spoken. He’d been on the receiving end of a stare like that a time or two.

  “So, what happened, Mason?” Jack said.

  Mason shook his head, shrugged, said nothing.

  “Don’t play stupid with me.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “I want to know why you set me up. Why did I go into a warehouse to finish a job, only to be in a situation where I should have died?”

  Mason straightened up in his chair, said nothing. The guy’s eyes switched focus from Jack to the pistol in Jack’s hand.

  “I could have taken him out the day before, but you stopped me. Why? What do you care about what happens to me? You wanted him dead. Should it matter where or how?”

  “I thought…”

  Jack waited a moment, then said, “You thought?”

  Mason shook his head, tight and terse.

  “So then I’m brought to a warehouse,” Jack continued. “Told where to set up and where to shoot from. It’s the place I would have chosen myself. Only thing is, it’s locked and I can’t get in there. A couple hours later, there’s a guy standing on the catwalk, a few feet from that same spot I was supposed to be. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that guy had been told that someone would be up there, and the moment he spotted the guy, he should shoot. Fortunately, I was nowhere near that spot. But I was exposed. I still don’t know how I wasn’t spotted. It’s as if they knew I was in there and decided not to bother with me.”

  Mason said nothing.

  “And in the end, Walloway’s own guy did him.”

  “Really?” Mason said.

  Jack nodded.

  “Who’s Walloway?” Gloria said.

  “Not now, Gloria,” Mason said.

  The woman rolled her eyes, crossed her arms and leaned back again. Jack imagined she had a few hostile words lined up for Mason if she ever got the chance to be alone with him again.

  “What then, mate?” Mason said.

  “Two guys came in with Thornton. One guy killed Thornton. The second guy didn’t seem to care, but he balked on something regarding the money. The guy that shot Thornton shot the second guy too. Naseer seemed like he knew it was coming. Like they had it all arranged.”

  Mason nodded.

  Jack said, “And I think you knew that all along.”

  “No, you got it all wrong, mate.”

  “You wanted me to be there. I was the backup plan. And depending on how things went, they might have taken care of me along with Walloway. You didn’t care about that. Probably figured after what I’d witnessed, I’d run. Right?”

  Mason leaned over the table.

  “Both hands where I can see them.” Jack lifted his pistol.

  Mason leaned back, showed his hands. “I had no idea, Jack.”

  “And then, we had the bombings this morning.”

  “Mason, you didn’t,” Gloria said.

  “Shut up, Gloria,” Mason said.

  “You knew where I made my hotel reservations,” Jack said. “You’re probably the only person that did. You tipped Walloway off that first day. He sent a crew, but the hotel had no record of me. But that could’ve changed. Maybe I checked in later. So you had them go back and blow the place up. You’re responsible for a hundred deaths. And for what? The chance that you might have killed me?”

  “What?” Mason appeared shocked.

  Jack stood, shoved the table toward Mason, kicked his chair against the wall.

  “Well guess what, Mason?” He took aim at the man’s forehead. “You got to me. At least twice you tried to have me killed. There’ll be no third chance.”

  Gloria covered her face. The sounds of her sobs slipped through her fingers. Mason leaned back in his chair, held his arms out to the side, elbows bent, fingers pointed to the ceiling.

  Mason said, “Jack, you gotta believe me, mate. I had nothing to do with all that. I was acting on intelligence that I’d received. We had no idea the warehouse was going to be a bunk spot and definitely no idea that things would go down the way they did. Think about what you said. Don’t you think if I wanted you dead, they would have done it there? If I was working with them, I wouldn’t have sent them in without telling them about you being there. I have no idea why the hatch to the roof was locked. You should have had access and been able to make the shot from that window up there.”

  “What hatch and window? Who else knew I was there?”

  Mason furrowed his brow, squinted. “What do you mean what hatch? My partner was the only other person that knew you were there. He’s the guy that took you there.”

  “Muscles, bald-headed, doesn’t talk much.”

  “What? No, my partner is the guy that dropped the Fiat off in the woods. He’s the antithesis of what you just described. Lord knows he doesn’t shut up when we’re out.”

  At that moment, Jack believed Mason had told him the truth.

  “When’s the last time you talked to your partner?” Jack said.

  “Last night,” Mason said.

  “Before or after he picked me up?”

  “What?”

  “Before or after, Mason?”

  “Before.”

  “And you haven’t talked to him since?”

  “Right.”

  “Is it normal that you wouldn’t hear from him all day?”

  “Yeah, he was going fishing today. I wouldn’t—” Mason’s hands fell to his side. He closed his eyes, shook his head. “Son of a bitch. He betrayed me. He’s the only other person that knew about you, Jack. When you showed up on the radar, we didn’t report it. I knew what was going on, why you were here. Walloway’s been untouchable for so damn long. Money buys anything, you know. I saw your arrival as a sign we could finally take care of him.”

  Jack nodded, said nothing. He pieced the puzzle together along with Mason.

  “I can’t believe this,” Mason said. “Joe’s gone and bloody stabbed me in the back.”

  “It looks that way,” Jack said. “But we don’t know that for sure. Maybe they got to him. Maybe they were trying to get to you, too. They just found him first.”

  A minute of silence passed, then Mason said, “I’ve got to tell Mills.”

  “Who?”

  “My boss.”

  “No,” Jack said.

  “Why not?”

  “I know that someone in MI5 or MI6 is involved. Whether they got the information from Joe or you through spying, I don’t know. We have to figure out who it was without tipping our hand. Hell, it could be more than one person. We have to keep this close to the vest, for now. Too risky to bring anyone else in on it.”

  “I promise I won’t tell anyone,” Gloria said.

  Jack looked at her, then back at Mason. “Sorry about this, mate, but you’re stuck with her for a while.”

  Mason said nothing.

  “Here’s how this will work,” Jack said. “I’ve got parcels on the move. International fare. Once I get verification that they’re safe, we make our first move.”

  “What will that be?”

  “I need you to find out where Naseer is right now.”

  “How?”

  “You’re the spy. Figure it out.”

  “OK. Then what?”

  “I’ll let you know when I do.”

  CHAPTER 32

  Clarissa felt the train slow. She opened her eyes. The train stretched along a curved tra
ck. The station lay ahead. She tugged on the cord dangling in front of her chest. White earbuds fell to her lap. The quick beat of electronica gave way to grinding brakes, steel on steel, and the low murmur of anticipation. The natural daylight that poured through the windows was replaced with fluorescent yellow as the train entered a short tunnel before pulling into the station.

  Spiers didn’t seem to notice. He leaned his head against the wall, eyes closed, mouth open.

  She nudged him. He didn’t stir, so she kicked his shin with the pointed toe of her boot. He grimaced, then opened his eyes. He yawned. Stagnant breath headed in Clarissa’s direction. She fanned her hand in front of her face, but it didn’t make a difference. The odor had already invaded her space.

  “Why’d you kick me?” he said.

  “You would rather I have left you here?” she said.

  He waved her off, rose, grabbed hold of the metal railing that ran overhead. The train came to an abrupt stop. Clarissa jerked forward, then back. Spiers did too. He came close to falling on top of her. She had her doubts that the move was unintentional.

  The doors slid open with a hiss. Cool air, fresh only in the sense that it was new, rushed inside and mixed with the warm stale air they’d been trapped in for the past two hours.

  Spiers said, “You get off first. Scan the area. If everything looks good, put your right hand behind your back and hold out two fingers. If you are concerned, same hand, make a fist. Got it?”

  “Two fingers good, fist bad. Got it.”

  She rose, grabbed her bag and walked toward the exit. A hundred pairs of disinterested eyes greeted her. She knew that it only took one pair being interested for her day to take a serious turn for the worse. They might lurk somewhere in the crowd. Clarissa slipped into profiling mode. Discount the kids, their parents, the elderly. Forget about anyone too heavy and out of shape to keep up with her. They might be a threat, but not one she’d take seriously. By the time she went through her checklist, there were five people to be concerned about. They all stared at her as she stepped down from the train and onto the platform. She knew she could cross them off as well. No one intent on harming her or taking her into custody would have dared to make eye contact.

  She reached her hand behind her back and extended her middle and index fingers. Then she started away from the train. The thick crowd stood shoulder to shoulder. Instead of trying to fight her way through, she turned to the left and walked in front of the throng of people. She and Spiers had sat in the rear car, so naturally they were at the end of the terminal. She didn’t have to walk far before she came upon a spot where a clean exit was possible.

  Spiers caught up with her five minutes later.

  “See anything?” he said.

  “No. You?” she said.

  “Nada.”

  “What now?”

  “Guess we wait.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I’m going to make a call and find out what’s going on here.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell. Clarissa stood a foot away, eyes on his. He stared back.

  “What?” she said.

  “A little privacy?” he said.

  She rolled her eyes, walked fifteen feet away and took a seat on a mesh metal bench. A familiar smell, that of hot dogs, wafted past her. Her stomach groaned in response. She ignored the pangs of hunger, leaned her head back against the wall, studied the crowd. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She saw nobody who didn’t belong there. When it came down to it, she was the biggest threat in the room. Next to Spiers, of course.

  He stuffed his phone back in his pocket and approached her, shaking his head. He stopped in front of the bench. Said, “No answer.”

  She looked up at him. “What now?”

  “He sent a text, like he said he would.”

  Clarissa said nothing.

  “We’re looking for two women and a little girl. Thirty-three, twenty-one, six-and-a-half. Dirty blond, brown, blond. Green, brown, blue. Well dressed, traveling light.”

  Clarissa appreciated his succinct style. “When do they arrive?”

  “Ninety minutes.”

  “I don’t like being exposed for that long.”

  Spiers glanced to his left, then his right. “Neither do I.”

  “Want to get some lunch?”

  “We’ll need a ticket to get back in here.”

  She reached into her pocket, pulled out a wad of euros. “I think we can handle that.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  It turned out they didn’t have to go far. Clarissa followed the smell of the hot dogs and it led them to a small restaurant in the terminal. It hadn’t been hot dogs that sent her taste buds into overdrive and caused her to salivate. It was blood sausage, which, despite the name, she found fairly tasty. Spiers ate a beef dish that she didn’t catch the name of. They shared double fried Belgian Fries, served in a paper cone held upright by a metal stand.

  For fifteen minutes, they remained silent while they ate. They lingered in the restaurant for another forty-five minutes. Spiers tried to order a couple beers. Clarissa didn’t let him. She told him once they were safe with the women and the girl, he could have a beer. But only one, no more. She didn’t know the man and didn’t trust him. Not yet, at least. He had managed to last four hours without attempting to hurt her, though. That carried a lot of weight in Clarissa’s book. Better to not ruin it by him getting drunk.

  They left the restaurant and located an arrivals board. Spiers pulled out his phone and pulled up the text message again. He pointed toward the train’s arrival information. Clarissa took note of it and ten minutes later they sat on a bench in front of the stretch of track where the train would pull in.

  “Wish we had a picture,” he said.

  “Description should be good enough,” she said.

  Spiers rubbed his eyes, yawned.

  “That nap you took wasn’t enough?”

  He shrugged, said nothing.

  Clarissa felt a shift in the air, as if it were being drawn away. The squeal of the brakes precluded the train pulling into the station. A blast of hot air followed. She felt her hair lift into the air and then settle across her shoulders. Apparently, it had reached further than that. Spiers made a spitting sound and pulled strands of her hair off of his face where it had become intertwined with his long stubble.

  “That’s why you should shave,” Clarissa said.

  Spiers said nothing. He rose from his seat and stepped toward the train. There were fewer people here. When she got off their train, there had been at least one hundred people waiting. Clarissa guessed this was the train’s last stop. For a while, at least.

  “You take that end, I’ll take this one,” Spiers said.

  Clarissa nodded, started off to her right. She turned, said, “What if it’s a set up?”

  “Not a chance. Not with this guy. If he were out to get me, he’d face me like a man.”

  Clarissa figured that if someone was looking for Spiers, they would only be looking for him. They wouldn’t recognize her or know that she accompanied the man. So she headed further down the track with little fear of being spotted.

  The doors slid open and people began to exit the train. She stopped three-quarters of the way down the length of the train. She scanned the faces that emerged. None matched the description Spiers had given her. Through the windows, she could see that there weren’t many people left on board. She wondered if Spiers had better luck at the other end of the track. She looked to her left, tried to spot him. The crowd that filed toward the hall prevented her from seeing more than twenty feet away.

  She returned her gaze to the train. If she hadn’t waited another five seconds, she would have missed them.

  The younger woman with brown hair stepped off first. She turned around when she reached the platform and then reached up for the little girl. The child’s blond hair had been pulled back into a pony tail. Her blue eyes stood out. They seemed familiar. The last to exit looked
to be the girl’s mother. They were alike in every way, except for their eyes.

  Clarissa weaved her way through the crowd. Her height and the two inch lift of the boots gave her an advantage, and she managed to keep track of the women as they approached.

  The brunette was the first to make eye contact with Clarissa. She saw the woman stop, turn toward the other lady and say something. The other woman’s gaze drifted left to right and stopped when she found Clarissa.

  Clarissa approached the group. She smiled, left her hands exposed, fingers extended.

  The little girl hid behind her mother. The woman reached out and pushed the brunette behind her as well.

  Clarissa held her hands in the air. When she was close enough, she said, “I’m here to help.”

  “You’re Jack’s associate?” the woman said.

  Clarissa nodded, unsure what to say. She had no idea the name of the man who’d asked Spiers to help.

  “How do you know him?” the woman said.

  “I’m traveling with the man who does. His name is Spiers. Your Jack reached out to him for help.” Clarissa looked to her left and saw Spiers approaching. She waved to him. The two women followed her stare. “That’s him.”

  Spiers stopped five feet from the group. “Ladies, we’re here to protect you. I gave Jack my word that we’d do everything in our power to help and protect you. Between the two of us, we have more than enough experience to keep you safe.”

  The woman nodded, pulled the brunette forward and lifted her child onto her hip. Spiers took their luggage. He turned and began walking toward the tail end of the crowd.

  Clarissa caught up to him. She said, “Jack who?”

  Spiers looked at her, said nothing.

  “Tell me.”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “Because I do.”

  Spiers hesitated, looked over his shoulder at the women, then back at Clarissa.

  He said, “Noble.”

  CHAPTER 33

  Bear drove past the two-story colonial house with red shutters and a matching front door. It looked well-maintained. The lawn neatly manicured. Newly installed siding. It was as Brandon had described it.