“Do NOT engage with him. Is that clear?” Brown replied, the electronic voice loud enough to be heard through the desert air.
“Yes sir.”
“Good. Now let the others go.”
“What?” Stern replied, unsure if he heard right.
“They are not the target, and we can track them. How’s the black man doing?”
Stern turned toward Wolfe and nodded regarding Yaw.
Wolfe put the finishing touches on a bandage over the wound, taping into place.
“He’ll live.”
Stern nodded, spoke into the phone.
“He’s fine.”
“Good. We’ll track them from here. Cut them loose, and inform me when you’ve arrived in Los Angeles with Luthecker.” Brown concluded, and then the line went dead.
Alex saw Stern put his cell phone away, and turned to Chris and Camila.
“Remember your pledge as Couriers. Remember what Mawith said. Deliver the package, no matter what happens to me.”
Stern approached Wolfe at the back of the Suburban.
“What’s the move?” Wolfe asked.
“We cut’em loose.”
“What?”
“All of them but Luthecker.”
“Why?”
“I thought you never asked that question.” Stern responded, frustration in his voice.
“Fuck off.” Wolfe replied.
Stern pointed his 9mm at Yaw as Wolfe cut him loose with his K-bar knife.
“Run, motherfucker.”
Yaw hesitated, looking at his friends in the SUV.
“Now, motherfucker, or I’ll gun you down right here, I don’t care what the orders are.”
Yaw slowly turned, and trotted off into the night.
Wolfe ripped Camila, then Chris, free from the truck, causing them both to land face first on the hard packed sand of the desert floor. He used the K-bar knife to cut both their leg and hand restraints, while Stern kept his weapon trained on him.
Camila carefully rubbed her broken wrist, wincing, as she and Chris slowly got to their feet.
“Get the fuck out of here.” Stern told them. “If I ever see either of you, or your other friend, it’ll be to kill you. Now go.”
Camila looked at Stern and thought, another time, another place. Aldrich nudged her back to reality, and they disappeared into the night, in the same direction as their colleague.
Stern and Wolfe both looked at Alex, sitting alone in the van.
“Now what?” Wolfe asked.
“We take him back to Los Angeles.”
• • •
Brown put his cell phone in his pocket, smiled, kicking his feet up on Tomas Stephen’s desk. He finally had Luthecker in custody. He couldn’t wait to see what this kid was capable of in a controlled environment.
“Why’d you let the others go?” Stephens asked, standing across from Brown, sheepish, as if he were an unwelcome guest in his own office.
“Leverage. I want Luthecker’s cooperation. And even if I don’t get it fully, I don’t want to waste time questioning Luthecker about the extent of his underground community when we can simply find out those answers by tracking them.”
“When will he arrive?”
“A couple of hours. He’s going to get processed, some L.A.P.D. bullshit I’d rather not muscle, and then I’m going to turn him over to your team. Make sure they’re ready.”
Brown smiled to himself in anticipation, as he got up from Stephens’ chair, and left the office.
• • •
Alex sat quietly in the back seat of the Piaggo Turboprop, ankles and wrists manacled together with prisoner chains, leather straps keeping him bound to his seat, as the plane cruised at thirty-five thousand feet, headed back to Los Angeles.
He stared at the back of agent Stern’s head, waiting for the opening he knew would come.
Stern and Wolfe sat two seats in front of him. Wolfe read a magazine while Stern fidgeted, anxiously wrapping his fingers on his lap. He stole a glance back at Luthecker. The young man smiled at him, a look of serenity on his face. Stern scowled in return, before turning back and facing forward in his seat.
Brown had told him in no uncertain words that he was to have absolutely no interaction with Luthecker, but it was proving more difficult than he thought. He wanted to ask this guy questions. He could see why Luthecker was spooky, in a crazy cultish kind of way, but he still didn’t see the threat. He really wanted to find out what exactly he had done to make Brown want him so bad. He looked back at Luthecker again.
Luthecker caught the second look and threw back a question.
“Do you think your Grandfather would be proud?”
“What?” Stern replied, caught off guard.
“Of you becoming a mercenary.”
“Jesus, you were told to fucking ignore him.” Wolfe cut in, never taking his eyes from his magazine.
“What the fuck you know about my Grandfather?”
Wolfe took his eyes from his magazine, exasperated.
“I know that he was a Vietnam Vet.” Alex answered. “I know that he was a POW, and that both your father and family thought he was a hero, one of the few who didn’t come back with serious mental problems, and that he died when you were only eleven, but he left a strong impression on you, stronger than your father even, about what was important in the world, about what a hero truly was, and that’s what you decided you wanted to be, a hero, just like him, and that’s why you became a soldier. You shot some peasant boy in Iraq, and that didn’t feel too heroic, and you spent many sleepless nights wondering how your Grandfather dealt with it, thinking this is not what heroes do. And you wish he was still around so you could ask his advice one more time. So do you think he would be proud?”
Stern was out of his seat.
“You son of a bitch -- “
“Sit down.” Wolfe cut in, grabbing his partner by the arm and yanking him back in his chair.
“Let me go.” Stern replied, ripping his arm free from Wolfe’s grip. “How the fuck’s he know about my Grandfather?”
“Look at your fucking tattoos. That’s how he knows. You were told not to talk to him, so don’t fucking talk to him. We’ll be on the ground in less than thirty. Now sit down and shut up.”
Stern begrudgingly did as he was told. He flexed his hands in and out of fists, enraged, completely caught off guard, and wanting nothing more than to march on back to Luthecker’s seat and find out just exactly how he knew about his family.
Alex resisted the urge to smile. He had planted the seed. He could see how the younger agent two seats in front of him fought off the urge to assert control of the situation. In the end, the urge would win out. He had the man.
• • •
Nikki snapped awake as her phone rang. In a deep sleep, it took her a second to orient herself before checked the caller ID. It was Miller. It was also 5:45am. She pushed away the sleep stupor and gathered her thoughts before putting the phone to her ear.
“Hello?” She answered, concentrating hard to make sure her voice was clear of sleep.
“Hi Nikki, sorry to wake you at this hour. But he’s on his way to Los Angeles.” Miller replied.
“Really?” Nikki replied as she sat up, suddenly wide-awake.
“Yes. I expect him at the precinct in about thirty minutes. He’s going to be processed and out, in probably less than an hour. From there I have no idea where he goes. There’s been a bit of confusion at the department regarding his case. L.A.P.D is completely stepping back for some reason, and we are being told by Homeland Security that we are to release him to a private party, no questions asked. That’s total fucking bullshit. This kid’s still got rights, at least on my watch. I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said. I want to know why now too. Do you really think you can get some answers? With your algorithm stuff?”
“Absolutely.” She answered, without hesitation.
“Okay. For some reason I believe you. I’m going to get you your five
minutes. I’m still the investigating officer in charge of the club incident, and the subsequent DUI fatality that involved your brother. I’m going to use the chaos here to my advantage. I’m going to tell them that I need you to identify him in order to close out that case, and I’m going to do it last minute. I’ll put up a bit of a stink if I have to, but I don’t think it’ll be a problem. They don’t want any public friction with the P.D., so my guess is the low level bounty-hunters that are handling Luthecker will let it pass. But they won’t put up with any serious delays. He’s gone in less than an hour, and I might get you three minutes with the guy. I’m really putting my ass on the line here Nikki, so you’re going to have to be in and out of there, no problems.”
“Understood.” She answered. Her stomach suddenly had butterflies.
“Detective Miller.”
“Philip.”
“Philip; thank you.”
“I’ve seen a lot of strange things in my fifteen years on the force. And this might be the strangest. Be at the station house in twenty minutes.”
TWENTY
CONTACT
“Nicole Ellis to see Officer Philip Miller.” Nikki told the desk Sergeant.
The desk Sergeant gave her a brief glance, one that was a microsecond longer than appropriate, unable to stop himself, before reaching for an office phone.
Nikki had taken the time to put on a quick round of make up, picked nice jeans, shoes, a dress shirt, and had pulled her hair neatly back into a pony tail. She wanted to look casual but neat, clean, with noticeable but restrained sex appeal.
“He’s on his way down.” The desk Sergeant finally answered.
Miller had told her that she would be asked to identify Luthecker from an observation room. He told her to “think it was him”, but “not to be sure”. From there, he would have Luthecker moved to a separate room for final paperwork, and before he gave the OK for his release into private custody, he would bring her in to the observation room to see him, if he could, to confirm his ID. Miller made it clear that there were no guarantees. She was nervous. She thought back to that night in the club, Luthecker’s words of warning, the look in his eyes. She realized that even though she had played it out countless times in her head, the last conversation she had had with her brother had thrown her, and now that the moment had arrived, she had no idea what she was going to say.
• • •
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll let it go.” Wolfe told Stern, as he put salt on his scrambled eggs. The two agents had delivered Luthecker to the LAPD, where, after a paperwork snafu regarding a car accident was worked out, they would bring him to Brown, at the Coalition Properties Building less than five blocks away. After they had locked him safely in a holding cell at the precinct, they had both realized how hungry they were after the previous night’s raid, and decided to grab some breakfast while the LAPD did their thing.
“I can’t let it go.” Stern replied.
“That’s because you’re young and you’re stupid.”
“You mean I haven’t had my balls clipped. I want to know: Is this guy a foreign intel agent? Did he betray the government by releasing classified information? What exactly did he fucking do? And how am I involved? He’s obviously seen my file. Why is he after me?
Wolfe pointed a fork at Stern.
“Don’t think like that. He’s not after you. He’s in a cell.”
“I’m asking Brown what the deal with this guy is.”
“Not smart. Just do your job.”
“He knew about my fucking Grandfather. He knew about me.”
• • •
“Is that him?” Miller asked Nikki.
The two of them, along with a uniformed officer who looked to be in his twenties, stood in a small observation room that hadn’t been upgraded since the mid-eighties. The walls were faded stucco-beige, the floors were well-worn green linoleum, and the furniture consisted of three folding chairs arranged in front of a small television stand, on which rested a low resolution 32-inch tube television monitor that carried a video feed from the adjacent room.
The video feed showed Alex, seated at a small table, with his right wrist handcuffed to a metal bar that was attached to the tabletop. His head was hung low, his shoulders slumped, and Nikki noticed that he looked much different than the night she first saw him. His hair was frazzled and his clothes were dirty, as if perhaps he had not showered in several days.
“What happened to him?”
“Ma’am, is that him? Is that the man from the club that caused all the commotion before your brother and Scott Forsyth got in the car, approximately twenty minutes before the accident?” Miller asked, trying to keep Nikki on point.
“I think so. I can’t be sure, the video isn’t clear enough. I’d have to see his face.”
She turned to Miller, nervous.
Miller nodded, and turned to the uniform.
“Let’s bring her in the room for a second. Confirm a positive ID.”
The young officer tilted his head, confused.
“Are you sure, sir? I thought we were told-- “
“Look, I want to close this out, and get him out of here, just like everyone else. Is that a problem, Officer?”
“No sir.”
The uniform nodded, reached for the key loop attached to his belt before leading the three of them out of the room.
• • •
Alex looked up at the sound of the cell door opening. He watched as three people entered the small, 10x10 room. A uniformed officer, a detective in a navy blue wool sport jacket, of the one hundred and fifty dollar variety, and standing directly between the two law men, the woman from that fateful night in the club. She had manipulated the man in the sport jacket in order to arrange this visit. He held back any reaction.
“Is that him?” Miller asked Nikki, as the uniform watched the interaction closely.
Nikki wasn’t paying attention. Her eyes were locked on Alex, and he returned the stare intently.
“Did, did you cause the accident that almost killed my brother?” She stammered, her voice barely above a whisper, unsure what else to say.
Alex knew he had at most, twenty seconds. He was going to have to read what he saw in her eyes, her face, her stance, her clothes, her movements quickly and concentrate hard, perhaps even wing it a bit.
One thing that was clear by the dark circles around her eyes was a lack of sleep, the fatigue visible in her face a clear sign of extreme stress that masked a combination of fear and anger. Her hesitant movements, particularly with the hands, indicated a psychological disorientation, one usually associated with nervousness and indecision. One thing that was not visible was the deep sadness of loss, which to Alex meant one thing: Her brother had survived the inevitable car accident that night. There was much more, but he had to speak, and speak now.
“I’m happy your brother’s alive.” He started. “And that’s not the question you really want to ask. You study patterns, just like me. That’s the only reason you would come here: You need to know. The momentum of that moment in the club was strong, even though you knew that getting in the car that night was high risk. I gave you an out. I gave you clarity. I gave you a second chance. And you know it. And you want to know how. You’re not angry at me, you’re angry with yourself for not stopping your brother from getting in the car.”
Nikki froze. She hadn’t known what to expect, but it wasn’t this.
“You don’t…know me…” She finally whispered.
“The question you really want to ask,” Alex continued, without skipping a beat, “Is do I succumb to the momentum of what I know, or do I change? Do I reconsider the offer I was given? And you already know the answer to that question too, so let me give you another out: Be strong. In your heart, you know it’s not who you are. Don’t second-guess yourself. With what you know, you can change the world.”
Nikki’s jaw dropped in shock.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Miller cut in. He could see
that Luthecker was overwhelming her. Miller had to end this now. He turned to Nikki.
“Miss Ellis, I need to know.”
“Yes. It’s him.” She answered, her voice low, barely above a whisper. She never took her eyes off Alex.
“Good.”
Miller carefully took her by the arm to lead her out, but she didn’t move, her eyes still locked with Luthecker’s.
“Miss Ellis?” He said to get her attention, along with a tug of her arm.
She snapped her attention away from Alex, as if breaking from a trance, and turned to Miller. She nodded and flashed a brief smile before exiting the room.
Miller turned to the uniform.
“You can release him to those two bounty hunters who brought him in.” He told the officer, before he followed Nikki into the hallway.
“Thank you for your cooperation, Ms. Ellis. You’re free to go. I’ll escort you down to the lobby.” He said to her, within earshot of the uniform.
They walked in silence a moment, until the hallway was clear.
“What the hell happened in there?” Miller finally asked Nikki.
“I’m…I’m not sure.” She answered, still a bit dazed by her conversation with Luthecker.
She turned to Miller.
“Did you see his eyes?”
“Yes. And you’re right. There is something strange about him. He sounded like one of those religious crazies. I should have never let you talk me into this. It was a mistake.”
“No it wasn’t. I’m glad you did. Thank you.”
They reached the lobby entrance, and stopped.
They stood for a moment before Nikki spoke.
“He had nothing to do with the accident. He saw it. Before it happened.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Not for him.”
“Is that what you got out of that conversation?”
Nikki didn’t answer.
“Well it doesn’t matter now. They’re going to take him. And I have to close the file before they do.”
“We can’t let them.”
“Nikki don’t do this.”
“I recognize you.” A voice interrupted.
Luthecker Page 21