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Knife Point

Page 13

by Jim Heskett


  Jonah hesitates a moment, then clears his throat. “I’m going to retire.”

  “What?”

  “I’m getting out of the game, Boy Scout. No more endless hours staring at an apartment window, waiting for a light to turn on to tell us someone is home. No more skulking through the muck in some swamp, trying to hunt down a politician’s brother’s killer so we can kill him back.”

  Layne lifts his arms, pointing at the house. “This is hardly a swamp.”

  “Still. I’m not going with you on the London op next week. Daphne can sub out Alicia or someone else for me. I don’t care anymore. I’ve had enough of this crap, like flashbangs and little Asian men hiding in secret compartments under the stairs. I want out.”

  “Okay, man, so what does that mean for right now?”

  “Doesn’t change a thing for this op. We’re still going to get this piece of shit. I’m still in this until we can say we finished the mission and did everything we were supposed to do.”

  “Like Singapore?”

  Jonah bites his lower lip. “I get what you’re saying. Singapore didn’t turn out the way we planned. It wasn’t the first time.”

  “No, no it wasn’t.”

  Jonah grins. “What do you know about Singapore? You were curiously absent during quite a lot of the movement in that op.” Jonah strokes his chin, frowning in an exaggerated show of detective work. “Come to think of it, Daphne was also curiously absent for a lot of that op. And… and this is all just coming to the front of my mind now… you and Daphne were both absent at the same times. How about that? Do I win a prize?”

  “Okay, okay, Thorny. You got me. But, it’s all over now. I’m a married man, and I don’t play it like that.”

  “I wouldn’t judge you if you did. Daphne’s always had a taste of that sexy librarian/bitchy teacher thing about her.”

  Layne stares and says nothing.

  Josh continues, “Singapore is another great reason why it’s time to retire.”

  “We’ve had dozens of ops. Maybe hundreds. Out of a hundred, ten or fifteen haven’t worked out well.”

  Jonah purses his lips and drops Satori’s wallet on the coffee table. “Ten is enough for me.”

  Layne stands. “We don’t have to talk about this anymore right now. Let’s check out his little hidey-hole.”

  They cross the room and open the hidden door to the space under the stairs. It’s a closet, with a shelf on the back end and a bar for hanging shirts and jackets. Layne and Jonah comb through the clothes there, hoping to find anything useful. It’s a mess inside. Piles of stuff topple any time they move their feet.

  “If you retire,” Layne asks, ”what will you do?”

  “Get my LPC. Move to Denver for a little while, probably, stay with my brother. Maybe California, Oregon, Washington. Somewhere out west, I think. Far away from DC and the east coast, for sure.”

  “You’re welcome to crash with me in Denver. I have a house in Lakewood.”

  “I appreciate that. We’ll see how this all turns out.”

  Layne drops to one knee when something catches his eye. A little green piece of fabric or paper sticking out from underneath a dress shoe in the back of the room. “This shoe look like Satori’s size to you?”

  “Could be. Didn’t get a good look at his feet, but I’d guess they’re as petite as he is.”

  Layne removes the slip of green. It’s a paper bracelet, the kind with an adhesive strip like you get at concerts or at bars to allow re-entry. No name of an event written on it, but there is a number sequence.

  “Whatta you got?” Jonah asks.

  “Maybe nothing. But I’ll get Harry on it, see if we can’t narrow down where Satori has been. At least, this tells us he’s into the New Orleans nightlife. We can focus our CCTV search now.”

  Layne takes out his phone and places a call to Harry. They’re getting close to Satori. He can feel it.

  25

  Layne and Jonah sat in the car on Muletown Road, far enough out of town that they could see only trees and grass in the dark. Layne hadn’t yet let Jonah out to approach the safe house. While he didn’t think anyone was in the area, he couldn’t afford to be wrong. Five more minutes in the car. Just to be sure.

  They had many puzzles to solve, and not much time to do it. Whatever Farhad was planning, his actions indicated it was coming soon.

  “How long has Farhad been hypnotizing you?” Layne asked.

  “I’m not sure. The whole time, I think.”

  “Take me through the timeline.”

  Jonah sighed. “I went to work at Hillcrest a little over a year ago, and Farhad came on board right after. Never even occurred to me he—or anyone else—might know who I used to be. I thought using the name Wade Nicholson with a set of clean docs would keep my past in the dark. I’d been smart about it, you know, no social media, no contact with people from my old life. No slip-ups. But, he found me, anyway.”

  “You pick that name for a reason?”

  Jonah let out a morbid chuckle. “Wade Nicholson was just a salty prick I knew back in Little Rock. Got drunk one night and got himself run over by a train. I Didn’t think he’d mind me borrowing his identity, seeing as how he’s dead.”

  “Okay, man, that’s fine. It is what it is. What matters is figuring out what Farhad plans to do with whatever information he’s gleaned from you.”

  “I think they’re going to hit something in the city. The bridge, or city hall, or something. I think the info he took is all to make his people happy. It’s all about getting funding, or the promise of funding, or something like that.”

  Layne leaned back in the seat. “I buy that, but the target doesn’t make sense. Redding isn’t a big city. Sacramento, sure, I get bombing a government building or something. Why is Redding important? What does he see here that would make it worth his time and effort?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t figure that part out.”

  “Maybe I need to call in more help.”

  Jonah pivoted in his seat. “Who do you have in mind? Maybe Everett, or Oleg? Are they still active?”

  “No. You don’t know the person I’m thinking of, Thorny. Her name is Serena Rojas. She replaced me when I retired. She’s young, smart, ruthless, full of fire. A dead shot and light on her feet.”

  “Is she hot, too?”

  Layne drummed his fingertips on the steering wheel and pursed his lips, but didn’t answer the question.

  Jonah continued. “I often wondered who Daphne would get to replace me when I retired.”

  “Basically, she hasn’t. London was such a colossal SNAFU, the team broke up and has been tiny since then. Serena and Harry are the only two full-timers, for the most part.”

  “And probably you from time to time, right?”

  Layne sighed through his nose. “What makes you say that?”

  “Come on, Boy Scout. I know how persuasive Daphne can be. I know you and her had a thing, but you thought you were keeping it quiet from the rest of us. Thought you were like two clever high school kids sneaking out behind the church, you and the preacher’s daughter. Am I wrong?”

  “Okay, maybe. Maybe I’ve done an op or two since I retired. But, it’s on my terms now. And Daphne understands I only do what I’m comfortable with.”

  Jonah put his head down and stared at his purple right hand. “‘Comfortable.’ I have dreams about what we did in New Orleans. About what happened on the last day.”

  Layne studied his friend. Seemed he had forgotten they had already discussed this topic an hour ago, at the cabin. His memory was still a little too maleable. “I think about it all the time, too.”

  “Do you regret it?”

  Layne blew out a breath. “I don’t see what good it would do to wallow in regret, man.”

  “That’s not what I asked you.”

  “Okay, yeah, Jonah, sometimes I regret what we did. But, we did it, it’s done, and we can’t take it back. Has it changed things in my life? Definitely.”
r />   “I don’t mean to keep harping on it. But, you know, you and Harry showing up like this… I haven’t seen y’all in so long, it’s bringing back all sorts of stuff I tried to push into the past. That old me I thought I wouldn’t have to deal with anymore.”

  “No, I get it. You thought you were out.”

  “Farhad screwed that up for me before you got here, though, and I’m sorry about that.”

  “Him prying into your brain isn’t your fault.”

  Jonah sat for a moment. “I’m not sold on that fact yet, but I’m ready to put whatever we got into action. What’s the plan?”

  “Intel says this house is abandoned. You’ll stay here for the day, then I want to put you and Harry somewhere else. I don’t trust that they won’t find you out here. Staying on the move is best.”

  “You’re not going to hang out with me and play a few games of Scrabble or Battleship or whatever else they got tucked away in a closet here?”

  “No can do. I have Inessa to worry about. She’s in town.”

  “Inessa? How is that tall drink of water doing?”

  “She’s fine. Her same old self. She’s here with our daughter, Cameron. I’m tagging along on her work trip, to steal a little extra time with my kid.”

  Jonah smiled, an awkward look on his bruised face. “Your little girl is here?”

  “They’re leaving tomorrow. We’ve got joint custody, so I have to take any chance I can get to see her. But with things heating up, I want to keep it away from my family. So, I need to get back to them ASAP.”

  “No chance for me to meet the little one?”

  “Sure, come to Denver when this is over. Not in the middle of a high stakes operation that could be dangerous. Not when we’ve got literal blood on our hands.”

  “Fair enough, Boy Scout. Let’s see what we’re working with in this safe house. We’ve been sitting here in the dark for twenty minutes, and I haven’t seen a deer stop to take a poop in the woods, let alone a merc with a rifle.”

  Layne opened the door and helped Jonah out since he was down a hand and had a barely-functioning knee. The limp and the broken hand made him a liability, for sure. Layne just had to hope he could keep him alive long enough to figure out what the hell was going on here. Keep him safe, away, and quiet.

  The house was a simple, two bedroom thing with faded blue siding and a shingled roof. The nearest houses on either side were a full city block away, so they didn’t have to worry about neighbors seeing them come and go. Simple locks on the doors, no cameras on the outside. For a safe house, it was as low-tech as could be. The thick woods would make guarding any approach a challenge, but hopefully, if Layne had kept their trail clean, it wouldn’t matter.

  He would have preferred a house with remote monitoring and a full complement of motion sensors and reinforced locks, but he had to take what he could get. Daphne had arranged for this safe house at the last minute, on loan from a friend of hers in the CIA. They preferred places that looked like dumps, for some reason. Easier to justify in the budget, maybe.

  “Let me guess,” Jonah said as he limped up the steps of the back porch. “This is not the luxury suite I read about in the brochure.”

  “It has indoor plumbing, so count your blessings. No cable or internet, but I’m sure you can find a deck of cards. Still remember how to play solitaire?”

  Jonah groaned as Layne opened the back door. They stepped inside to a wallpapered kitchen, dark, with a sour smell coming from the sink. The inside felt cool and damp, and Layne could feel air moving from somewhere. A window open.

  “Not exactly the Shangri La, but it’ll do,” Jonah said. “Beggars can’t be choosers. That’s what my dad woulda said.”

  Layne pulled a thick paperback from his back pocket and thunked it onto the kitchen counter. It made a coffee mug rattle as it settled.

  “What’s that?” Jonah asked.

  “Something for you to read. It’s one of my favorites, about an elf who has to go on an adventure across a desert to find his sister.”

  “I’m not into books about swords and magic and shit like that.”

  “Give it a try.”

  Jonah paused, out of breath, and leaned against the fridge. “Okay. Thanks again. You don’t know how much I appreciate you lifting me out of this mess. Farhad would have tossed me in the river when he was done with me. No doubt.”

  Layne checked through the kitchen window. “Thank me when we’re on the other side of this. I have a feeling it’s going to get worse before it gets better.”

  “Usually does.”

  Layne left him there to check for possible security breaches.

  26

  Sundial Bridge crossed the Sacramento River, with the massive, titular sundial towering over the expanse. Layne and Inessa escorted Cameron across the long walking bridge amid a slew of morning pedestrian traffic.

  The architectural marvel of the sundial did not impress little Cameron. Ahead of them, a couple was walking their dog, a Labrador with a fluffy tail swishing back and forth. Cameron was much more concerned with trying to grab the dog’s tail. A giggle followed each swipe.

  “Layne,” Inessa said, barking at him. When he looked at her, she flicked her eyes down at the dog.

  Layne tugged on his daughter’s hand, pulling her away from the Labrador. “Little one, we need to be nice to doggies. If you pull on his tail, that might hurt him.”

  The girl frowned. “But I just want to play with it.”

  “I know, but the doggie probably doesn’t like it, and we can’t ask the doggie for permission, can we?”

  Cameron didn’t protest any further, so they continued across the bridge, toward a museum park on the other side. She wanted to see the aquarium and had been talking about it all morning. She skipped, bouncing back and forth between the two parents flanking her on either side. Inessa took her hand sometimes. Sometimes, the little one grasped on to Layne’s hand.

  He kept looking around. His head swiveled, eyes alert for any sign of Farhad or anyone who could be affiliated with him. Layne detested the idea that his ex-wife and daughter could be in the line of fire. He didn’t think Farhad would be bold enough to attack him in public. But, there was no telling with a new enemy, especially one so unpredictable. Always be alert. It had kept Layne alive for forty-two years so far.

  Layne had spent most of the morning pondering the incident at Hillcrest the day before. Thinking on whether or not Farhad had known Layne would be outted. Whether Farhad seeded Layne’s true identity at Hillcrest to expose him or merely been an unwitting bystander, the damage had been done. Layne was now effectively banned from there.

  Technically, he didn’t need to go back there, but it might have been useful to have access to the building and its employees to learn more about Farhad. Either way, that road had been closed off.

  Mariana had been texting him, demanding answers. Not too hard to understand why. He had slept with her and then had been revealed as not Louie Pastori, as she had been lead to believe. He did feel bad about that one and owed her an explanation. Maybe he could fit her in at some point today.

  He also had to worry about Jonah and Harry, both of them injured and not at full capacity. Plus, frequent collaborator and friend Serena was now on her way and would be in Redding by tomorrow morning. So many moving pieces.

  Farhad’s intent was the most confusing puzzle piece of all.

  He wanted to know about Omar Naseer for some reason, and it had to do with a plan to cause havoc in Redding. Layne couldn’t find a way to reconcile the information. Why Redding? Why Omar Naseer? How could those things possibly share a connection? Did they?

  Across the bridge, a woman shrieked, and Layne’s eyes turned in that direction. A young woman, college-aged, was dancing involuntarily after the young man with her had dropped an ice cube down the back of her shirt. He held up a soda cup, his other hand still in it, trying to draw another cube to assault her with.

  Layne didn’t care about them, but it did
bring his attention to someone else. Among the crowd on that side of the bridge, a man walking parallel with them, thirty feet to his left. He was wearing a jacket with the collar popped up, a little too warm for this mild Northern California morning. White guy, dark sunglasses, dark jeans.

  That popped collar got Layne’s attention. It covered his neck, over the exact spot where the man from the cabin had a triangle tattoo.

  The man wasn’t looking at them, but he could’ve been keeping Layne, Inessa, and Cameron in his peripheral. His eyes were in the general vicinity. Too hard for Layne to tell with those dark sunglasses on.

  Layne shifted in the man’s direction as they walked. He wanted to see if he could draw a reaction. To see if closing the distance would make the guy change his course or do something to maintain his cover.

  “What are you doing?” Inessa asked.

  “I need a minute,” Layne said. He let go of Cameron’s hand, and she looked up at him, but Layne took another step to his left, closer to the guy.

  “Come back here,” Inessa said, but Layne ignored her. He now walked at an angle, narrowing the distance. He put himself at a path to intersect with the suspicious man’s trajectory in about ten paces. Hands in his pockets, trying to keep a nonchalant manner to his gait.

  Layne had only the hunting knife on him, strapped to his right ankle. If he had to, he could lift his leg and extract the knife in less than a second. But, on this crowded bridge, that would be a terrible move. His best bet would be to force the man in the jacket to make the first move. A reaction to give away his intention.

  Layne kept pushing at a diagonal. Five paces away from intersecting with the man. People created a path for Layne as he walked in between them.

  Now, the man seemed to notice him. Or, at least, he pretended to notice him for the first time. He turned and looked at Layne, only a couple steps away from bumping into him.

  And the man cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. He stopped.

  Layne stopped too.

  “You okay?” the guy said.

  “I’m fine,” Layne said. “You okay?”

 

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