Fugitive

by Jude Hardin

  “You know, about the money.”

  “You tried to get away. You got me in trouble.”

  “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble, Benny. But I have to get out of here. He’s going to kill me. You realize that, right?

  “He’s not going to kill you,” Benny said. “He’s going to—”

  Benny slapped his hand over his mouth.

  “What?” Felisa said. “What’s he going to do?”

  “Never mind. I’m not supposed to tell you. I almost spilled the beans, but I caught myself in time.”

  “I’ll give you as much money as you want, Benny. You can go wherever you want to, do whatever you want to do. You can have a big house and a swimming pool and a nice car. I know you’re a smart guy. Why won’t you—”

  “You don’t think I’m smart. You think I’m stupid. And maybe I am a little stupid, but it’s not my fault. I got hit in the head one time. Really bad. I was in the hospital and everything.”

  “What happened?”

  Benny told her the story. It involved his father and a bottle of whiskey and a drywall hammer. It made Felisa very sad that there were people in the world who treated their children that way. And now Benny had teamed up with the mean one, who was just as bad.

  “So I’m not very smart,” Benny said. “But I can tell when someone’s trying to trick me. You tried to get away. You got me in trouble.”

  “I’m sorry about that. Really. But I’m not trying to trick you. I really do have a lot of money, and I really will give you some.”

  “You shouldn’t say really so much. One of my teachers in school told me that.”

  Felisa sighed. This was going nowhere.

  “My ankle hurts,” she said. “Is there any way you could give me some Advil or something. An ice pack, maybe?”

  “If I go to the kitchen, you’re not going to run away again, are you?”

  “I sprained my ankle, Benny. I can hardly even walk on it right now.”

  “Okay. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Felisa heard him get up and walk away. While he was gone, she took the opportunity to lift the pillowcase and look around. Her chair was brown, the vinyl upholstery worn thin on the armrests, probably a thrift store find, or maybe even salvaged from a curbside junk pile. There was a sofa against the wall, probably of similar origin, and above it a large rectangular clean spot where a picture once hung. End table, lamp, grimy hardwood floors, dust bunnies in the corners.

  Someone had obviously paid to have the electricity and water turned on, so the utility companies would have a record of that. Something to think about for future reference. That is, if there was a future, which seemed doubtful at the moment.

  Felisa pulled the pillowcase back down when she heard Benny’s footsteps approaching.

  “I put some ice in a plastic bag,” he said. “Want me to put it on your ankle for you?”

  “Please.”

  “That’s a La-Z-Boy, so lean back and put your feet up.”

  Felisa found the lever, guided the chair to a reclining position, felt the cold pack as Benny gently placed it on her throbbing joint.

  “Did you find any pain pills?” she said.

  “No. They’re all locked up in a cabinet. I’m not allowed to mess with them.”

  Why would the mean one lock up all the medicine? Narcotics obtained illegally, maybe? Something else to keep on file for future reference.

  The front door opened and then slammed shut.

  “I thought you were going to get the van,” Benny said.

  “He sold it. Can you believe that? Now we’re going to have to take her in my car.”

  “That’s messed up.”

  “You’re not kidding it’s messed up. We’re supposed to be over there in an hour, and now we have to worry about—”

  “Take me where?” Felisa said. “Where are we going?”

  “Should I tell her, Benny?”

  “We could put her in the trunk.”

  There was a long pause, and then the mean one said, “That’s an excellent idea, Benny. An excellent idea.”

  16

  The phone vibrated, and JR answered. Another message from Mr. S:

  They will be there shortly. Use the Uzi.

  17

  Colt could tell that Diana had been watching the door to the restroom. She waved when he walked out. He thought about running, but he knew that he would never make it to the door. Diana Dawkins was too good at what she did.

  He walked over to the bar. “I never thought it would be you,” he said. “Not after what we’ve been through together.”

  “You think I came here to kill you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s move to a table.”

  Diana got up, told the hairy tattoed guy it was nice to have met him, walked over and slid into one of the booths along the wall. Colt followed.

  “Now what?” he said.

  “You’re in big trouble, Nicholas. But you already know that, don’t you?”

  “Yeah. So why don’t we just go on out to the car and get it over with?”

  Diana was fiercely loyal to The Circle. Colt had worked with her long enough to know that she wasn’t going to give him or anyone else a pass when it came to any sort of betrayal. She was one of the best assassins in the world, cold and precise and deadly. If she had come to Rock Creek to kill Nicholas Colt, then Nicholas Colt was going to die.

  “I didn’t come here to kill you,” she said. “I came here to help you.”

  “I expected you to say something like that. It’s okay. I did what I did, and—”

  “Don’t get me wrong. The Circle wants you dead. But they didn’t send me. I’m taking time off from my own assignment.”

  “The Director doesn’t know you’re here?”

  “No. And I can only spare a couple of days. After that, you’re on your own.”

  “I didn’t kill Valinger,” Colt said.

  “I believe you. That’s why I’m here. So tell me what’s going on. Why did you decide to come to Rock Creek?”

  “I thought I might get some brownie points if I went ahead with the investigation. They’re looking to find something incriminating against a man named Jack Reacher. They think he might have been involved in the Felisa Cayenne abduction, and they think he might have planted a van full of explosives on one of the president’s routes to Andrews.”

  “Have you come up with anything yet?”

  “Not really. But I know there’s some stuff on him in Annex One.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Colt told her about his visit to the 110th. “I have some fake credentials in my wallet. The sergeant I talked to thought I was a private investigator.”

  “Do you know how long The Circle has been trying to gain access to Annex One?”

  “From what I’ve heard, it’s impossible.”

  “Maybe. But if you did manage to get inside there and retrieve the records on this Reacher guy, The Director would probably give you a medal instead of a firing squad.”

  “Nobody has ever done it before,” Colt said. “A lot of operatives have tried and failed.”

  Diana sipped on her drink. “Yeah, but they didn’t have me on their side.”

  She had a point.

  18

  They gagged Felisa and blindfolded her and tied her hands behind her back. She didn’t know what kind of car it was, but she knew that the trunk was cramped and hot and smelled like rotting fish guts. Every bump and every turn and every pothole jacked the pain in her twisted ankle to an excruciating new level. It would be over soon enough, she thought. Still, it seemed unfair that the last few minutes of her life should be spent in such discomfort, such agony.

  She never thought it would end this way. She wanted to fall in love. She wanted to see the world. Not the way she’d seen it over the past few years, as a performer, where she spent most of her time in hotel rooms, but as a tourist where she could get out and explore the small villages and experienc
e the diverse cultures. Eat the food and drink the drink. Make love by the ocean, under the moonlight. She wanted to have children and grandchildren and great grandchildren. She wanted to be surrounded by love when she took her last breath—preferably in a nice comfortable bed at home.

  But that wasn’t going to happen, and all the money she’d earned as a singer and a television star—enough to last several lifetimes—wasn’t going to make it happen.

  The car slowed down, made a few winding turns, rolled to a stop on what sounded like a gravel path. The engine stopped running and the trunk latch popped. Both doors clicked open, and then slammed shut.

  “I thought they were supposed to be here already,” Benny said.

  “They’ll be here,” the mean one said. “Just chill for a minute.”

  Felisa’s clothes were soaked with sweat, but at least she could breathe now. She heard the sound of a jet engine somewhere high in the sky, so she knew they weren’t far from an airport. Or a military base, maybe.

  “You want to smoke a joint?” Benny said.

  “You brought weed with you? I told you to leave that stuff at home.”

  “It helps calm my nerves.”

  “How about I calm your nerves with my fist on your face?”

  “Hey,” Benny said. “Here comes someone.”

  A car approached, or a truck most likely. Something with a diesel engine. The engine kept rattling as one door opened and closed.

  “Where is she?” a male voice said.

  “Right over here,” the mean one said. “In the trunk. You have the money?”

  “Yeah, I have the money.”

  The next thing Felisa heard sounded something like a whole string of firecrackers popping, one after the other in quick succession. She tried to scream, but she couldn’t. All she could manage was a gurgling sound from somewhere deep in her chest.

  Footsteps crunched on the gravel, closer and closer. A cough, and then Felisa could feel someone’s hot breath on her ear.

  “Don’t worry, baby,” the man said. “We’re going to take real good care of you.”

  “Let’s get her in the truck,” another male voice said.

  It was a voice that sounded very familiar.

  A voice that sounded an awful lot like Benny.

  19

  They retrieved Colt’s .38 from the bush where he’d hidden it, stopped and bought some sandwiches and a bottle of bourbon on the way back to the hotel. When they got up to the room, Diana fixed herself a drink and started reading the books on Reacher.

  Colt ate one of the sandwiches and fell asleep watching television. He was dreaming about his first wife, the one who’d died in the plane crash, when Diana nudged him awake three hours later.

  He sat up and yawned. “You’re finished already?” he said.

  “I’m a fast reader.”

  “What do you think?”

  “There’s a lot of information here,” she said. “Reacher’s a chronic rule breaker, and he’s been that way for a long time. Trouble seems to find him on a regular basis. He assesses the situation, and then he takes matters into his own hands. Vigilante justice.”

  “Yeah, but there’s nothing between those covers that would specifically lead anyone to believe that he’s an enemy of the United States.”

  “No, but he fits the profile. A guy like that could turn at any time. He’s obviously dangerous. Someone to keep an eye on.”

  “I wouldn’t want to meet up with him in a dark alley,” Colt said. “Then again, I wouldn’t want to meet up with anyone in a dark alley.”

  Diana laughed, poured herself another glass of whiskey. “I’ve missed your sense of humor,” she said. “Want some of this?”

  “Not right now. I thought you never drank on the job.”

  “I’m not on the job. Not officially. I think I’ll just consider this a forty-eight hour vacation. I’m due for one, and the assignment I’m working on can wait.”

  Colt nodded. “Anyway, Valinger wanted me to watch Reacher from afar, keep tabs on his associates, that kind of thing.”

  “That makes sense, but it could take months.”

  “And I don’t have months,” Colt said. “I’m expecting another operative to break through the door and shoot us both any minute now.”

  “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen. As of six hours ago, there was nobody else here in Rock Creek. That could change at any time, but I think you’re safe for at least the next couple of days. I assume you’ve been paying for everything with cash.”

  “Yeah. And I’m almost out.”

  “I’ll get some money for you,” Diana said. “That should be the least of your worries right now.”

  Colt got up and turned off the television. “You mind if I take a shower?” he said.

  “I don’t mind. While you’re doing that, I’ll run up to the store and get a few things. It should be dark by then. We’ll take a ride into DC.”

  “Tonight?”

  “You got something better to do?”

  “There’s a Charles Bronson movie coming on in a little while.”

  Diana sighed. “I’ll be right back,” she said.

  Colt walked into the bathroom and started peeling his filthy clothes off.

  20

  The guided tours for the Capitol building had concluded several hours ago. Diana parked the Charger on 3rd Street, opened a tablet computer and started looking at a set of schematics. Colt got out and pumped some quarters into the meter, walked around to the driver’s side and motioned for Diana to roll down the window.

  “We have two hours,” he said.

  “There’s no charge after nine. We can stay parked here all night if we want to.”

  “Then why did you sit there and watch me drop a bunch of money into the meter?”

  “I have my mind on other things, Nicholas. Like how to break into the Visitor’s Center of our nation’s Capitol building after hours. I wasn’t really paying attention to what you were doing. Anyway, I figured you could read.” She pointed to the little red plate bolted to the meter head. “I went out and bought you a fresh set of clothes, toothpaste, deodorant, shaving stuff. You want me to hold your hand when we cross the street, too?”

  “Why are you so grouchy?” Colt said.

  Diana didn’t answer. She climbed out and they started walking toward the big traffic circle in front of the Capitol.

  “The Visitor’s Center is on the east side,” she said. “So we’ll have to walk around to the other side of the building.”

  “You couldn’t have parked a little closer?”

  “Keep it up, Colt.”

  “Why can’t we just walk up the steps and go into the front door?”

  “The Senate isn’t in session right now,” she said, picking up speed as they passed the Columbus Fountain. “And neither is the House. We should pretty much have the place to ourselves. So we could go in through the main entrance if we wanted to. But we don’t want to.”

  “Too many security checkpoints?”

  “Exactly. There’s only one guard between the entrance to the Visitor’s Center and the first women’s restroom.”

  “The restroom?”

  “That’s where the secret elevator shaft is. Don’t you know anything?”

  “Oh, yeah. The secret elevator shaft. How could I have forgotten about that?”

  They walked in silence for a while. It was warm and muggy, and Colt’s new duds were a little stiff and uncomfortable. Diana had bought him a cheap pair of jeans and a blue chambray shirt and a pair of canvas sneakers with Velcro fasteners where the laces should have been. She’d refused to discuss the clothes she’d picked out for him, but what she had in mind was pretty obvious.

  They continued on in silence, eventually making it around to the entrance to the Visitor’s Center.

  “Stop,” Diana said, reaching into her backpack and pulling out a set of handcuffs. “Put your hands behind your back.”

  “Am I under arrest?”

 
“Just play along, okay?”

  “Why do you have to be so secretive about everything?”

  “It’s how I’ve stayed alive in this business as long as I have.”

  Colt put his hands behind his back, and Diana slapped the cuffs on his wrists. She led him through a swinging glass door and into a lobby area with a security desk. The guard was on the phone. Marine Corps. Tan shirt, sergeant’s stripes. High and tight haircut, clean shave. Colt couldn’t see his belt, but he assumed there was a pistol attached to it. His nametag said Walker. He was checking in with his watch captain. Bravo this and tango that. When he got off the phone, he slapped at the side of his neck, as if he’d been bitten by a mosquito or something, and then he turned to Diana and said, “Can I help you, ma’am?”

  She flipped open a leather case, flashed a badge and a picture ID. “US Marshal. I have a meeting with Senator Blancroft regarding an issue with this prisoner.”

  “At this time of night?”

  “I know it’s unusual, but it’s the only time the senator could fit me in.”

  Sergeant Walker looked at his clipboard. “Senator Blancroft left the premises at fifteen hundred today. He hasn’t returned.”

  “I’m a little early. We’re meeting in Conference Room C. I’ll just wait for him there.”

  “You have some paperwork on this guy?”

  Diana sighed. “You’re going to make me drag all that out?”

  Sergeant Walker’s jaw tightened. He looked nervous, as if he suddenly realized the improbability of a US Marshal bringing a prisoner to the Capitol at ten o’clock at night.

  He put his left hand on the phone and his right hand on his hip. “Ma’am, I’m afraid I’m going to have to clear this with my captain before—”

  His breath caught and his eyes glazed and he slumped over the desk mid-sentence.

  He was out cold.

  “How did you do that?” Colt said.

  “I fired a micro-dart from my ID case. I hit him with it as soon as we got close enough. It takes a minute for the drug to kick in. I have five more darts, but I’m hoping we won’t need them all. If my intelligence is correct, there’s a two-person crew maintaining security on the lower level. Same as they put in missile silos. Once they’re down, we should be able to waltz on in and copy the documents we want.”