by Heskett, Jim
But Jules had her own agenda, no doubt about it. The woman didn’t open her mouth unless she had a plan.
“Isn’t that right?” she asked, looking directly at him.
“Yes,” Wellner said. There was no one from Golden Branch here this evening. While the governing body of the DAC was supposed to operate as an entity that existed outside of any individual Branch, most of its members had come up through the various Branches before joining its government. Still, Wellner didn’t think anyone here had been a part of Golden. Even so, he had nothing bad to say about them, so he didn’t fret. “What they’re doing there is incredible. The measures they take to remain secret is impressive.”
“Better than the close call with Parker from last year, yes?”
Wellner nodded, masking his disdain by keeping his glass close to his face. Jules loved to mention the fact that Parker Branch had attracted attention from local law enforcement as a result of a fire in a dumpster behind their Post Office. Of course, none of that had been Wellner’s fault, and he’d been the one to smooth things over and divert the police’s attention. But, Jules still loved to act as if the whole thing had resulted from his poor decisions.
A close call under his watch. That was the political way she had spun it. Of course, none of the gossip and slander at the time had been traced back to her, but Wellner knew where the whispers had originated.
“Everything in the Parker Branch is good these days. They’ve had no visits from the police in nine months, and none of our embedded sources have any reason to believe there’s an open investigation. The whole dumpster fire landed on some teenagers in the area, and the case was closed within two months.”
“Very well,” Jules said. “What happens to one Branch happens to them all, and to us. That’s the lesson I took from it.”
“And all of us are responsible, aren’t we?”
Jules gave him a cold stare. She didn’t like to share the blame. Wellner noted the other conversations at the table had ceased, all eyes on the two of them.
“Troubled times,” she mused, before sipping her drink.
Wellner checked around the table, and no one had any further comments, so he pushed his chair back. "I thought we might all go for a walk out to the deck with our drinks. It's a nice night out there. Let's enjoy a little of it. We only have another week or two before the weather turns sour."
"Lovely idea," she said, as if giving her approval. That irked him, but Jules had been irking him all night long. Earlier that evening, she had repeatedly brought up Ember Clarke's ongoing trial by combat. Adding in her little opinions and not-so-carefully disguised suggestions as to how Wellner should have handled it all. And, of course, those statements had been pointed as well.
They all collected their glasses and stood from the table in the dining room at Jules's house. That was another niggling detail bothering him. They were supposed to alternate the location of these dinners, not only for security reasons but for the sheer sake of variety. Jules had hosted the last three in a row. She hadn't even entertained the idea of letting someone else host.
As he meandered through her living room, a moment of guilt tickled the back of his neck. Why couldn’t he command Jules to let someone else host next time? Technically, he could. So, why did the thought of doing so fill him with dread?
They walked out to the deck behind her house, a mountain view in the little town of Morrison, west of Denver. She lived on a hill, not too far from the red rocks of the famous concert venue. Sometimes, they could even hear music from the shows echoing along the hills during the summer months.
Wellner took a position on the deck, admiring the night sky and the twinkling lights of Denver to the east. Jules put an arm around Kunjal and escorted him over to the other end of the deck. She tossed a quick glance back at Wellner before she proceeded to whisper into Kunjal’s ear.
What could the DAC Vice President possibly need to whisper to the Club Historian about? And why would she need to do it within clear view of him? Whatever was going on, Jules wanted him to see it. She wanted him to think about it.
He watched them for a couple of minutes, with Jules wearing a shark smile the whole time she talked, and Kunjal nodding uncomfortably every few seconds.
Something was going on here. She didn’t want anyone else to hear this conversation, but she wanted Wellner to see it.
Jules had a plan. And Wellner didn’t like it.
Chapter Thirty
EMBER
Day Five
Ember drove along Baseline Street in Boulder, headed out to the grocery store for essentials — food, mostly, but also small accoutrements that might be useful in setting up more traps for Xavier. It wasn’t common knowledge, but the Home and Office aisle at most grocery stores stocked many day-to-day useful necessities for professional assassins. Duct tape, light bulbs, batteries — hell, she’d once even hacked an air filter to help hide a listening device. The sun rose over the rim of Boulder valley to the east. Ember wasn’t used to waking this early every day, but after a few days of it, she had almost grown accustomed to being an early riser. Sleeping in didn’t seem like a wise strategy for someone facing a sniper looking to put a bullet in the back of her skull.
The ridiculous number of espresso shots in her drink had aided her quest for alertness, too. The unfortunate side effect was a sensitivity to the pain from the bullet that had grazed her thigh. Aside from a slight limp, though, she was able to get around without much trouble.
She fiddled with her phone to get it out of the cup holder in the center console. When she was able to get a couple of fingers on it, she held it up. A bit of stickiness marred the lower half. Coffee spill. While she kept her condo clean and spartan, the car was another story. Some people might even assume she was living in here. If she'd had more legroom in the back, maybe she would have.
She unlocked the phone and placed a call to her recruit.
“Morning,” he said.
“Yes, it is. How are you?”
“Getting ready to go for a run to clear my head. I’ve not been sleeping great.”
“You should fix that.”
Gabe sighed. “Yes, I should fix that. What can I do for you this morning?”
“I’ve got a plan.”
The phone line went silent for a few seconds as she pulled into the parking lot for the King Soopers grocery store. She waited for him to continue, but when he didn’t, she said, “Something on your mind? Don’t hold back.”
“You only need to stay alive for two more days to beat Xavier. Then, five more weeks to beat them all. Can’t you just drive out to Utah for a little while and spend the next five weeks and change camping in Canyonlands? If they can’t get to you, then the trial by combat is over, right?”
“I don’t think there are technically any rules against hiding, but where’s the fun in that?”
“This is fun for you?” Gabe asked.
Ember bit her lip. “No, Gabe, of course not. I’m jerking your chain. If I run and hide, maybe I get away with it for a little while. But probably not. I don’t know for sure, but there are probably rules against hiding, buried in that rulebook David Wellner keeps shoved deep up in his butt. Most likely, they'll send people after me to make sure that I've paid my debt, which, in this case, is with my life. It's a delay, not a solution. And I'd rather not spend a month in fear without electricity, sleeping in a tent every night. Besides all that, these guys like Xavier are trained professionals who take contracts that bring them around the world — he knows how to find people, and so will the next one who comes after me."
“I guess I see your point. It sucks, but I see it.” He hesitated a moment, then asked, “Wait. Those stories about the assassins who retired and moved to Florida or California? Are they real? Like, does anyone actually get out alive?”
“Yes, there are Club members who have retired for real. I happen to know that for a fact. But probably not ones who been given a black spot in trial by combat.”
�
��Yeah, that’s a fair point. Do you know what happened in the last one?”
“Not really. It hasn’t happened since the 70s. Fagan said something about it, but that was all hearsay and second hand. And, whatever happened before doesn’t matter.”
“I guess not,” he said, and she could hear the despair in his tone.
She parked in a spot in front of the grocery store. “Anyway, here’s the plan: tomorrow, I’m going to draw Xavier out. No more of this cat and mouse crap. We draw him out and force an end to this.”
“You think it can wait until tomorrow?”
"Yes. I don't think Xavier has a solid plan of his own. He tried to take me out directly once, and it didn't work. He sent a trio of goons after me, knowing they probably couldn't get the job done, either. That's why he bugged my apartment. He's not the direct confrontation sort. He's more the sort to study and wait for an opening, then try to twist it to his advantage. So, he'll wait for me to make the next move."
“What do I do?”
“We’ll meet at the 29th Street Mall tomorrow morning. We’ll split up and walk the outdoor mall, trying to spot him.”
“How do you know he’ll be there?”
“I’ll go back to my condo and have a phone conversation about it. A loud and clear conversation about exactly what we intend to do.”
Gabe stammered. “But, you told me he knows you found the bugs in your condo.”
“Well, of course, he’ll think it’s suspicious, but I want to make it too juicy to resist. He’ll come even if he’s uncertain. Because he’s running out of time, too. He’ll be even more desperate tomorrow.”
“Desperate enough to ignore what he knows is a trap?”
“He’ll think he’s too smart to get fooled because ego beats safety, every time. But, what we do is give him an extra layer of complication. We’ll be out there, and he’ll be out there. Almost certainly with a sniper rifle observing from somewhere high up in one of the nearby buildings. We figure out where he is, then he’ll be watching me for a clean shot. I’ll stay far out of his reach to keep him occupied. He’ll forget about you once he thinks he just has to wait me out for the right shot. Meanwhile, you double back around and take him out while he’s got eyes on me.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if he never sees me at all?”
“I don’t think that’ll work. He’s too experienced to believe I’ll go in alone. If he sees you, it helps sell the charade. I’m the cheese. You’re the metal snapping shut. We can make it work.”
Ember listened to him breathe for a few seconds.
“It could work,” Gabe said. “I can see this working.”
“Hell yeah, it will,” she said, grinning.
Chapter Thirty-One
XAVIER
Xavier walked from one end of his current residence to the other. It only took him three seconds, since he was living in an RV currently parked in the little mountain town of Lyons. Half an hour north of Boulder. Unfortunately, it was the best he could do, since Ember had raided his Boulder safe house the night before.
Not what he'd intended, for sure. But, he'd gotten away. And, he'd graced Ember with a little bullet wound to remind her of what he could do.
Xavier wasn’t a fool. He knew better than to meet Ember on a neutral playing field. One on one combat with her would not end in his favor. She was younger, faster, and more adaptable. Xavier had mostly specialized in weapons that kept him at a reasonable distance from his targets, like rifles and bombs. You have to be a certain kind of assassin to creep up behind someone and slit their throat. It required not only cunning, but a serious love of risk to put yourself so close to danger.
Not to mention a serious love of cleanup — it took time and meticulous attention to detail to not only scrub a crime scene but to put it back to a state that made it appear as though no one had died there. It meant cleaning it, bleaching any stains or liquids, then re-dirtying the space with dust and clutter.
Xavier did not like the cleanup phase, nor did he care for unnecessary risk. When he took this contract as part of Ember’s trial by combat, he’d been told by the Review Board that he could complete the contract any way he saw fit — that meant, to him, a long-range takedown was the cleanest, easiest, and safest option. It was his specialty, after all.
He wasn’t allowed any collateral damage, and he had already killed Ember’s next-door neighbor. That couldn’t have been helped, however. She was in the way. While the Club frowned upon the killing of civilians, they also frowned upon the Club’s becoming public knowledge. They frowned upon attracting the attention of the cops, FBI, NSA, DEA, or any of the other acronyms. And, therefore, the occasional civilian death was an acceptable price to pay to keep their group secret.
After the successful completion of this contract, he would stand before the Review Board and explain his decision to kill a civilian. He would say that he could have easily planted bombs all over her condo complex and taken her out. More civilians would have lost their lives in that case. He would present the neighbor's death as the lesser of those evils.
He knew what to say to those politicians — most of them had no idea what it was like these days for assassins. In truth, Xavier would kill as many civilians as necessary to complete this contract.
While Ember had youth and strength on her side, he had the smarts. And that's why he had walked the short length of his RV this morning to his tiny bedroom -- the laptop sitting on his bed had beeped. The beep meant it had detected an incoming transmission.
Xavier sat on the bed and pressed the button to listen in to Ember’s conversation. After adjusting the volume and gain a few degrees, he could make out her end of a phone conversation. It didn’t take him long to realize she was talking with Gabe, her little project.
When he had bugged Ember’s apartment, Xavier had fully expected her to find the tiny listening devices. He hadn’t expected her to be able to trace back to his location, so she must have had help doing that. From what he knew about her, she wasn’t capable of such a thing.
He only wanted her to discover them, not to use them against him. He had hoped to plant the bugs with the right amount of secrecy so that she wouldn’t suspect he was trying to make sure she found them. That had been the tricky part; to also make them just obvious enough for her to find.
And he did it that way so she wouldn’t suspect that he had also bugged her car. Those bugs, he had taken great care to make sure she would never find.
So, when Ember talked to her recruit Gabe, Xavier made diligent notes in a spiral notebook sitting next to the laptop. With each new detail, Xavier’s grin grew wider and wider. She was making it all too easy for him.
Ember wanted to draw him out at the 29th Street Mall in Boulder tomorrow and to expose him by using her as a distraction while Gabe circled back to take him out. She would become the bait in a trap, with the hope that Xavier would lose track of and forget all about Gabe.
Xavier grinned. It was a good plan. Or, it had been a good plan, until they lost their element of surprise by unknowingly spilling all the details to him on this recorded conversation.
Now, Xavier didn’t even need a plan of his own. He only had to wait until they showed up at the outdoor mall tomorrow, confident, sloppy, playing right into what he wanted them to do. Then, he would kill Ember. Or, better yet, capture Gabe and then torture him until Ember willingly gave herself up in exchange for her protégé.
Yes. Xavier liked that plan the best.
Chapter Thirty-Two
EMBER
Ember smiled as she checked her phone. She was holding it with one hand as she limped down the aisle of the grocery store, with a grocery basket clutched in the other. The basket bounced against her hip as she explored under the oppressive fluorescent lights.
So far, she had filled the basket with duct tape, scissors, super glue, bungee cords, and rubbing alcohol. She didn't know for sure if she would need these items in the next twenty-four hours, but it was better to have them and not n
eed them. Duct tape was the essential item in any assassin's toolkit. Even if the situation didn't explicitly call for duct tape, you could always find a use for it.
The smile felt good on her face, cutting through the tension of the week. She was smiling because she kept checking her phone to find new texts from Zach Bennett. Mostly, he was sending her made-up names for sushi rolls. Some of the standouts so far had been Exploding Samurai and Kamikaze Dawn. The Kamikaze Dawn consisted of ground-up chicken nuggets and barbecue sauce with rice in soy paper. She would never eat such a thing, but she admired his persistence and creativity.
Zach was cute. Even though she hadn’t been honest with him about her reason for appearing in his life, she had to admit the college kid from Fort Collins was growing on her. He had a sincere form of charm she hadn’t seen in another man in a long time.
And, he had no idea his part-time lab job might be quite a bit more dangerous than he realized. Ember herself didn’t know the full extent, but she hoped to explore the situation further. Hopefully, without alarming Zach. Not only did she need to keep him safe, but it would be better if he remained oblivious to the danger throughout.
When Ember turned the corner at the end of the aisle, she looked up to make sure she wasn’t going to collide with another shopper. When she did, something caught her eye. One of the three Five Points assassins who had assaulted her two days ago stood in front of the dairy section, comparing two packages of sharp cheddar cheese. Five Points and Boulder were about thirty miles apart, so Ember didn’t think this guy had driven to Boulder just to do his shopping. He was here to slow her down, just like he and his buddies had done before.