“I’ll show you the broken computer,” Jenner grumbled and snatched his baton style flashlight.
“That’s not necessary,” the repairman replied. “I think I can find it on my own.”
“Company rules,” Jenner snapped as he stepped out from behind the desk and led him to the elevators.
Both men rode the elevator in silence to the nineteenth floor. They departed the elevator and walked toward the computer closet at the far end of the hall. Jenner indicated the closet just a few doors down then looked in the opposite direction. He stared at a faint light coming from one of the offices. The repairman stared at the security guard, appeared disgusted, and then headed toward the computer closet. Jenner was now preoccupied with the light and headed in the direction of the dimly lit office. The security guard paused outside the partially opened door and noted the name on the office. It was Wiley’s office. Jenner slowly pushed open the door with his baton flashlight. The metal flashlight scraped against the wooden door making a distinct rolling sound.
Jenner looked into the office. It was empty, but the small desk light was left on. Jenner sighed with relief and headed into the office toward the desk. He turned off the light, but noticed a faint glow partially lit the room. It was coming from the computer. Jenner appeared confused, since the computers were supposedly still down. He slowly rounded the desk and looked at the computer screen. The light from the hallway vanished as the door shut. Jenner gasped and turned on his flashlight, aiming it across the room. There was no one there. He reached for the desk light. From the glow of the computer, he saw the outline of someone standing next to him. Jenner spun with his flashlight clutched in his hand, prepared to strike, when he saw a gun aimed at him from only a foot away. He was about to scream when nearly silent shots were fired into his chest. He flew backward into the chair and fell to the floor. Blood rapidly seeped through the front of his blue uniform.
†
The ComServe repairman entered the computer closet and paused within the doorway. A man wearing a black leather waistcoat and black jeans kneeled before an open panel on the industrial computer.
“Who are you?” the repairman demanded.
The man kneeling on the floor glanced behind him, saw the repairman, and sat on his heels.
“I’m the tech guy,” he casually replied.
“No, I’m the tech guy,” the repairman launched back. “Who sent you? Let me see your badge.”
The man in the leather waistcoat groaned and slowly stood. He removed something from beneath his jacket, revealed a semiautomatic with a silencer attached to it, and shot the repairman twice in the chest. The repairman flew back against the wall with a thump near the open door then slid down it, his eyes remaining open. Someone stepped into the open doorway. The man in the leather waistcoat aimed his gun then relaxed and lowered it. Jericho eyed the dead repairman on the floor and shook his head.
“We’ll need to dispose of the bodies on our way out,” Jericho announced. “The last thing this company needs is another police investigation.”
“Bodies?”
“Yeah,” Jericho replied and sighed softly. “The idiot security guard found me in the accountant’s office.”
“Huh, too bad for him,” the man replied with little emotion as he replaced his weapon. “I thought the computer tech guy wasn’t due for another two hours.”
“Oh, well, shit happens,” Jericho remarked.
“So did you get it?”
“The fucker emptied the dummy account,” he snarled. “I’m sure he moved it to another account within the company account, but there has to be a thousand files in the system. He could have transferred the money just about anywhere and in multiple locations.” Jericho leaned against the doorframe and casually folded his arms across his chest. “It’d take months to go through all those files. I don’t have that kind of time. Without that money, I’m losing friends fast and hiding from the police is becoming more difficult.”
“So what do we do now?”
“Shut the system back down,” Jericho replied with little emotion. “The longer the system is out of service, the longer it’ll take the feds to get ahead of us. Wiley must have left some clue as to where he transferred that money. He was smart enough to leave two dummy flash drives just to throw us off. Nothing on the one I found on him and bullshit on the lipstick USB he slipped in the girl’s bag. That tells me he made alternate plans in case things went south.”
“Think he told the girl anything?”
Jericho suddenly looked at the man in the leather waistcoat. “It’s possible,” he replied slowly and appeared deep in thought. “If he did, she isn’t aware that she has the information, or she would have turned it over to the feds.”
“It’s a good thing you didn’t kill her, huh?” the man remarked. “She could still be of value.”
Jericho suddenly sneered and removed his cell phone from his pocket. “Yeah, it’s a good thing I didn’t killer her,” he muttered as he left. “I’d better call off the dogs of war before that happens.”
Chapter Twelve
Lee relaxed on Monroe’s king-sized bed and stared at the full moon over the water beyond the part in the balcony curtains. It was nearly one o’clock in the morning, and she still couldn’t sleep. Wondering who and what Monroe really was had plagued her mind most of the evening. Agent Falcone had to know what the man did for a living. Would he really trust their lives to someone dealing in criminal activity? Is that why he considered Monroe safe? Did Monroe have more mob connections than Holden claimed her boss had? She rolled onto her back and groaned while staring at the ceiling. She wished they had some way of contacting Agent Falcone. Lee wanted answers about this man she was supposed to trust with her life. Lee heard a faint voice outside possibly on the deck below her balcony. Had one or more of the others decided to stay up? Lee pulled her weary body up from the bed and approached the parted curtains to the partially opened balcony doors. She listened to the voice coming from the deck below.
“No, there’s nothing happening here,” she heard Mac saying softly.
Lee strained to see whom she was talking with. As Mac paced the deck, Lee realized she was on a cell phone. Ironically, Monroe seemed to indicate that it was impossible to receive a cell phone signal on his remote slice of heaven. Then it hit her. Mac had a cell phone! Lee was going to call Agent Falcone and express her concerns, and she didn’t even care that it was the middle of the night. Lee slipped a button shirt over her tank top and hurried from her room. She had to catch Mac before she had a chance to hide the fact that she had a working cell phone. Lee hurried down the steps, making as little noise as possible, crossed the living room, and entered the kitchen. She then heard Monroe’s voice on the deck as well, stopping her approach. Whatever had happened seemed to make Monroe angry with Mac. Lee moved closer to the glass doors in order to hear their heated conversation.
“You aren’t supposed to have a cell phone,” Monroe launched hotly. “You could jeopardize the entire safe house.”
“Relax, Monroe,” Mac lightly scolded him while offering a sweet smile. “It’s just my mother. I promise you, she’s not looking to assassinate anyone.”
Monroe stared at her, his eyes wide, and shook his head with disbelief. “Who you called isn’t the point,” he lashed out. “If this Sal guy knows your frequent contacts, he’s liable to have tapped their phones. Rich guys like that have all the good toys. A few minutes is all he needs to trace your phone call.”
“He’s not going to trace my phone call,” she remarked hotly. “I’m smarter than that. Hell, I’m smarter than you.” She then waved her cell phone at him. “This phone is government issued. It’s untraceable.”
Monroe snatched the phone from her hand, startling her. “You’re not going to risk the lives of the women I’m protecting,” he snapped. “I promised I’d keep them safe, which was the same promise you made.”
“Damn it, Monroe,” she demanded with annoyance. “Give back my phone.”
Monroe sneered at her and popped the battery. “You want your phone?” He placed the battery in his pocket and tossed her the empty phone. “There’s your phone.”
She attempted to catch her phone, but it struck the deck and broke apart. A small transmitter fell from the phone. Both stared at the tiny, familiar object. Monroe met her gaze with his own astonished one.
“That’s a tracker,” he gasped.
“I swear, I didn’t know that was there,” Mac announced with a concerned look on her face.
Monroe stomped on the tiny device, shattering it beneath his shoe. He shook his head vigorously while glaring at her.
“I don’t care if you’re lying or not,” he suddenly launched. “You’re officially off this assignment.” Monroe appeared to be considering his next move and suddenly turned anxious. “I have to get the women out of here.”
As Monroe turned to head inside, Mac pulled a gun on him and maintained her innocent smile.
“I’m afraid not, darling,” Mac informed him. “I’m in charge here, not you.”
Lee stood within the kitchen by the partially open door just out of sight and stared with disbelief at Mac aiming her gun at Monroe. Lee looked around and attempted to figure out her next move.
“You’re off this assignment,” Mac snapped then tossed him a pair of handcuffs. “Cuff yourself to the grill, grill master.”
Lee backed away from the partially open door, turned, and ran for the stairs. She had to alert Tonya. They had to run or hide. She wasn’t sure which. Lee scaled the stairs quickly but quietly. Without hesitation or knocking, she slipped into Tonya’s room. Lee nearly collided with Tonya, who had been hastily dressing. Apparently, she too had heard part of the conversation from outside as well.
“What’s happening?” Tonya cried out in a state near panic while staring at her friend.
“We have to go--now,” Lee whispered, attempting to hide her frightened tone for her friend’s sake.
Tonya slipped into her shoes while keeping her eyes on Lee in the dim lighting.
“Mac attacked Monroe,” Lee softly replied in rushed speech. “We have to get away from her.”
“Mac?” Tonya gasped with horror.
Lee knew how her friend felt. She would have sworn they could trust Mac, but that wasn’t the case. Maybe there wasn’t anyone they could trust. Lee hurried to the bedroom door and peered out. She saw Mac crossing the living room for the stairs. Lee shut and locked the door then frantically motioned to Tonya.
“We have to go out the window,” Lee gasped softly. “She’s coming!”
Both women ran to the window, opened the screen, and slipped out onto the small ledge. Tonya looked down as Lee joined her on the ledge. It wasn’t that far to the sand below, but neither was willing to jump.
“Toward my balcony,” Lee ordered softly.
Tonya slid along the ledge toward the balcony only a few yards away. She easily climbed onto the balcony and helped Lee down from the railing. They hurried across the balcony and climbed over the railing on the opposite side. Tonya groaned with anxiety and watched as Lee shimmied down the support beam. She jumped the last few feet and landed softly in the sand. Tonya followed her, lost her footing, and cried out as she fell. Lee helped catch her, breaking her fall, and knocking both to the sand. As they scrambled to their feet, they saw Mac looking out Tonya’s window at them. She saw the escaped women and quickly disappeared back inside.
“Run!” Lee cried out, no longer worried about keeping her voice down.
Both women ran through the sand and toward the back deck. Lee stopped Tonya and stared at the deck with surprise. Both Monroe and his expensive grill were gone. Tonya looked from the deck to Lee, her eyes wide with fear.
“What?”
“She handcuffed Monroe to the grill,” Lee gasped.
“I’m sorry,” Tonya gasped and grabbed Lee’s hand. “Monroe is on his own.” She tugged on Lee’s hand, attempting to pull her along. “We need to get out of here!”
“And we will,” Lee announced softly. “Wait for me by the garage.”
“Where are you going?”
“For the car keys,” Lee remarked. “Go!”
Tonya gave her a concerned look then ran around the back of the beach house and headed for the detached garage. Lee silently crept up the steps and approached the open deck doors. She peered in through the opening. The house was eerily silent, and the dim lighting lent a creepy feel. She thought for sure she’d see Mac on the stairs to cut off their exit. Had she gone out the front door, anticipating they’d head for the garage? Lee didn’t have time to second-guess Mac. She hurried into the house and for the island counter where she last saw Monroe’s car keys. She hesitated and stared at the empty spot on the counter where Monroe’s Ferrari keys once set. Lee’s heart pounded. She didn’t have a backup plan.
“Looking for these?” Mac asked from nearby.
Lee gasped and turned to see Mac only a few feet away from her while dangling the Ferrari keys.
“Time for you, me, and Tonya to go for a little drive,” Mac announced while maintaining her sweet smile.
There was a strange rumbling sound, startling both. As they turned toward the sound, they saw Monroe bodysurfing on the rolling grill straight for Mac. Mac screamed and attempted to leap from his path. The heavy, rolling grill clipped her and sent her flying into the nearby dining room table. Monroe leaped off the grill to which he remained handcuffed. He landed near the slightly dazed woman on the floor and patted down her pockets. He found the handcuff keys and attempted to unlock the cuffs. Mac slowly stood, sneered at Monroe, and punched him in the face, knocking him backward into the grill. Mac reached for her discarded gun, which sported a state-of-the-art silencer, and fired at him. Monroe leaped over the grill and raised the lid. The nearly silent shots struck the metal top, shielding him. Mac attempted to move around the grill for a better shot while Monroe frantically unlocked the handcuff attached to his wrist. He simultaneously turned the rolling grill to block her shot. He freed his wrist and looked up to see Mac aiming the gun at his face. A liquid suddenly sprayed into Mac’s eyes, startling her as well as temporarily blinding her. Monroe looked alongside him and saw Lee tossing the can of non-stick spray over her shoulder. She snatched the discarded car keys and ran for the front door with Monroe on her heels. Mac recovered from the spray to her eyes and fired blindly at them.
Lee and Monroe ran for the garage where Tonya waited for them, practically hiding in the darkness. Lee tossed the keys to Monroe as all three piled into the two-seat sports car. Monroe backed the car out of the garage and sent it speeding away from the beach house. Mac ran out the front door but didn’t bother aiming at them. It was too late. They heard a strange thumping sound coming from the sky in the near distance.
“Do you hear that?” Lee suddenly asked and attempted to look out several windows to locate the sound.
Monroe looked out the windshield and appeared alarmed. He turned off the headlights and skidded to the side of the road near the some trees. He frantically motioned to both women.
“Get down!”
Lee and Tonya ducked in the limited space available and peered out the side window with Monroe partially lying on top of them to remain hidden. A helicopter whizzed overtop of them, flying lower than it normally should have been flying. All three lifted their heads and looked back toward the beach house through the back window. The front door stood open, but Mac was gone. The helicopter hovered before the house. The sound of rapid machine gun fire echoed through the silence as the shells tore through the house. The deafening gunfire seemed to continue non-stop. Monroe groaned and sank in his seat.
“No,” he muttered softly.
There was a break in the gunfire as the helicopter continued to hover. All three stared back at the beach house with the same look of surprise.
“Seriously?” Tonya suddenly gasped with horror as her eyes widened. “They’re reloading?”
A trail of smoke fl
ew out the opposite side of the helicopter, startling Monroe.
“No, no, no!” Monroe suddenly cried out, ready to jump from the driver’s seat.
A rocket launched from the helicopter and struck the house. Half the house exploded on impact with the remainder engulfed in flames. Monroe groaned, sank in his seat, and watched as his house was leveled.
“Not again,” he muttered.
They watched the helicopter head in the opposite direction for the coast and eventually out of sight. Monroe cursed softly as he straightened, put the car into gear, and pulled back onto the road. They sped away from what was left of his burning house.
Chapter Thirteen
Four hours had passed since the trio escaped the destroyed beach house. They spent nearly an hour on the dark, out-of-the-way back road to the abandoned airfield, where they had been waiting over three hours. Waiting for what, Lee had no clue. She was beginning to wonder if Monroe even knew what they were waiting for. Monroe hadn’t spoken to either woman in almost three hours as he leaned against his Ferrari with his arms folded across his chest and a pouty look on his face. Lee and Tonya sat on the wing of what was left of an old plane. The airfield was creepy in the dim moonlight, casting shadows from the debris of destroyed planes and what remained of the hangars.
A couple of years ago, a hurricane had nearly wiped the island off the map, and the failing, private airfield was among the hardest hit. The airfield owner never bothered to deal with the repairs or clean up the destruction left behind. The nearby hangar looked as if it had seen some action, oddly resembling a military coup. Both women watched Monroe, despite their own desperate situation from the hostile takeover. They had nowhere to go, and neither was dressed appropriately. Lee still wore her shirt overtop her tank top and sleep shorts, while Tonya wore her nightgown over top of a pair of jeans. Lee again was barefooted, which was becoming an annoyingly common occurrence.
Witness Protection 2: The Return of Whiskey Tango Foxtrot Page 7