Marcus conceded the point. “All right, nothing tactical. I don’t like it, but we will have nothing to rely on but bravado.” He paused, coming up with a different plan. “We’ll use a lot of cruisers with sirens and lights just to affect their clientele. We shall count that their greed outweighs any secrets they wish to keep. Patrons will be disinclined to attend the establishment with a significant police presence. That will give Alex and I our leverage to get them to invite us in.”
“I don’t know.” Constance shook her head. “I’ll think about it. What makes you think any persons of interest would still be there after tonight’s fracas?”
“If there is an Ancient there … Well, we are nothing if not arrogant.”
“Plus, there isn’t enough time. Daylight is coming,” Alex added. “And if it’s politics you’re worried about, at the very least, if Marcus is wrong, we shut down a big illegal blood club. That should be good for a feather or two in your cap. And make the new bureau look good with City Hall.”
“You have to change your attitude, Alex, if you’re to succeed in the new world,” Constance counseled.
“Look who’s talking.”
Now it was Marcus’s turn to glare at Alex.
Constance’s pale countenance actually flushed and Alex saw her eyes flash red with vampiric ire.
“I’ve got a good mind to put you on a desk just for that. You’ve had a tough night, so I’m going to attribute your lack of respect to that.”
“Lack of respect? Have you forgotten who you’re speaking to?”
“Not at all. A king who was a failure in his old life and is a failure in his new one.”
Marcus interceded. “We’ve all had a tough night and we could all use a spot of rest. Alex, why don’t you take the Explorer, head in, and start working on the report. Constance and I will meet you this evening.”
Alex caught the clue. Nothing good was going to come from him hanging around.
He turned away and walked over to one of the shelves. After looking at the contents for a moment, he picked up a box of trash bags.
Constance glared at him.
“What? This? Filip can bill me. Anyway, I’m not getting this gunk all over the seats in the Explorer. I’m going to head home first to change.”
“And then you may want to see Aguirre,” Marcus added.
“Yeah?” Alex said.
“What about?” Constance asked.
“About something Filip said. A group called the Pact?” Marcus said.
Constance gave Marcus a blank stare. Alex saw through it. She had a pretty decent idea what Marcus was talking about. “Some vampire secret, I take it?” Alex asked.
“I have my suspicions. This is something new. But old Lopé may be able to tell us a thing or two,” Marcus said.
“Fine. But then you’re back at the station,” Constance said.
“Constance…” Alex started to retort, but then thought better of it.
Constance nodded. She’d won this round.
One of the forensic technicians stepped out of the back room. The man was pale and looked as if he was about to vomit. He noticed them looking at him.
“That stuff in the cooler. I think it’s human flesh. Oh my God.”
Alex spoke up. “Good news for someone, anyway.”
“How is that?” Constance asked.
“That son of a bitch Filip got off easy.”
19
4:51 A.M.
Alex’s gut was not letting things go this time.
He could hit home, grab some essentials, and be gone. He’d have at least a twelve-hour lead and could be out of the country. One quick stop in the Caymans to tap his stash, and then he could shed this identity and disappear. Why not let Marcus, Constance, even Aguirre deal with this? They wanted to keep their damned secrets, let them.
Even as he thought it, he knew that it was just a fantasy and that he’d never go through with it.
It wasn’t as if the government would let someone like him wander too far from the reservation in any case. He thought of his friend Grigori, a Ukrainian expat who’d been Zorzi’s human partner in UMBRA. They’d found him in an upscale brothel in Rio after someone had given him a dose of something that hadn’t agreed with his health. This happened only one week after he’d announced that he wasn’t going to play ball anymore and that he was going to retire and be “nose-deep in Brazilian butt floss” for the rest of his days. Well, Alex had to admit, that part had been true. He couldn’t help but think that the end of his days had come a hell of a lot sooner than Grigori would have liked.
Alex arrived at his condominium complex and pulled up to the gate. He lowered the window and reached out to the small keypad on the drive-up stand. He punched the key code but nothing happened. Annoyed at having “fat-fingered” the code, Alex started to punch it in again. He felt sticky and tired and wanted nothing more than to have a nice pull at his water pipe and then maybe go down to the beach and soak in the daylight.
That paperwork could wait. They couldn’t really do anything to him anyway.
He froze as he continued punching in the code. He was getting a bad feeling. Maybe it was wired. No. It would have just gone off after he punched it in the first time. If someone had really recognized Marcus for who he was, anything was possible.
He was compromised. Maybe he was just being paranoid. On the other hand, he’d been sloppy lately. He decided to err on the conservative side.
He briefly slipped his ka from his body and headed skyward for a bird’s-eye view. Everything looked normal. Except …
There was a white sedan on the corner with two humans inside. They were just sitting there. It didn’t make sense, unless, of course, they were a surveillance team. Whose surveillance team? That was the real question. And why? If they were there to remote-trigger a bomb, they’d had plenty of time to set it off already. If they were there to verify that a bomb had gone off, well, they didn’t have to be sitting on the corner for that.
He was overreacting. They wouldn’t use a bomb, not in this political climate. It would be too big, impossible for the media to ignore. No, they’d be coming at him sideways. The damn gate was just broken. He decided to let things play out for a bit and see where the situation would go.
He snapped back into his body, but the effort left him more drained than he’d expected. The sun needed to come up soon.
He heard tires squeal. He checked the mirrors and could see that the white sedan was moving to bracket him in. He threw the Explorer into reverse and waited to see what they would do.
Just as Alex had expected, the sedan stopped directly behind the Explorer. To use such an obvious tactic meant these guys thought that they were tough, that they had the upper hand and had nothing to fear. They’d be common thugs thinking they were dealing with a common cop.
Doom on you, assholes.
Alex floored the accelerator, and the Explorer lurched backward and T-boned the white sedan, knocking it back into the street with a crash and a spray of broken glass. He slid from the driver’s seat into the passenger side, opened the door, and climbed out of the SUV. He ran down behind the white sedan and saw that the driver already had his door open and was getting out.
The man was dazed, woozy, but already reaching for something at his side.
Alex reacted instinctively, right hand clearing his jacket and drawing his pistol in one fluid motion, finger on the trigger. He had to consciously keep himself from pulling it.
“Hands! Now! Let me see ’em!”
The driver put his hands up and then turned around to face Alex. Alex’s eyes flickered back to the inside of the car. There was a guy still in the passenger seat. He backed up so the Explorer would give him some cover, but he lost sight of the passenger.
The driver shouted at him, “Ease up. We’re just bringing a message.”
“Shut up!” Alex needed time to think. He was exposed. Did they have a backup team? He hadn’t seen one, but he hadn’t had time to look. He stol
e a glance down the street.
“Relax and listen up. Your sanger partner can afford the bravado. You’re just a sap and we can end you anytime we want, so lose the attitude.” The man paused, letting his words sink in. “It’s weird how you can own this whole building on a cop’s salary. I mean, you don’t even try to keep it a secret. Pretty dumb for a dirty cop.”
Okay, so he’d been at least partially compromised. They’d checked his finances; so, minimum, he had to assume they knew everything about this identity. It was exactly for situations like this that you always used an alias. First-day tradecraft.
Good news was that this might not be a hit. Most times, you didn’t do a background check on someone you were going to rub out.
Alex didn’t relax his guard, but decided to see where this might go.
“Who says I’m dirty? Maybe my partner was good to me. Maybe I just invested well.”
The man chuckled. “In this economy? Be serious. Look. Like I said, I’m just a messenger. The guy we work for and you, well, we have mutual friends. We might be able to come to some arrangement.”
“I’m listening.”
“Our friend would like you to know that he rewards his friends well. And that he regrets the recent unfortunate events. That was the fault of some overzealous recruits, you understand. They’ll be dealt with. We don’t want more incidents like earlier tonight. You know and we know it’s bad for business. No one wins.”
“You mean Filip?”
The man didn’t answer directly. “Just know that there’s something in it for you to drag your feet.”
“You’re going to need to be a bit more specific. My caseload is full right now.”
The man continued as if Alex hadn’t spoken. “If you don’t, we know who you are, and we know where you are.”
Now Alex understood the game they were playing. He was familiar with this dance. He had to show them he was interested. It would mean exposing himself but it might be worth it. Of course, if they shot him, then he’d have to kill them both. Karmically, it kind of worked out.
He lowered the pistol, still pointing it at the driver, but more casually, as if he’d forgotten it was in his hand.
“Okay. Let’s talk numbers. And I still need the details. Can’t throw all my cases in a cold drawer, can I?”
“You’re not so stupid you’d expect us to discuss the specifics in the middle of the street, are you?”
“I don’t know. I can be pretty stupid.”
“We’ll be in touch.”
Damn. It was worth a try anyway.
“Well, next time be a little more discreet. I might not be so slow on the trigger.”
“If you’d harmed either one of us, you’d be dead in seconds.”
“That a fact?” Alex looked around. He still couldn’t see any evidence of surveillance. Maybe the driver was just bluffing.
“It is. I’m going to get back into the car now and we’re going to leave. We’ll be in touch.” The driver brazenly lowered his arms and turned his back to Alex in an obvious demonstration that he didn’t regard him as a threat.
The sedan pulled away, scraping against the rear of the Explorer and leaving mementos of white paint along the dark blue and constellations of broken glass on the pavement. Alex could see that he’d crushed the passenger door so badly it wouldn’t open without a trip to a body shop. He smiled.
“Sorry about your car!” he called after them, but received no acknowledgment.
Okay, so from now on, he had to assume someone was watching him. Shit. He got back into the Explorer, dug out his phone, and placed a quick call to Marcus. He doubted Marcus would answer. Judging from the past night’s activities and the conspiratorial way Marcus and Constance had been talking to each other, he was sure they’d be up to something they knew Alex wouldn’t approve of.
Sure enough, the call went straight to voice mail.
“Marcus, I just had an interesting visit at my condo. Assume you’re being watched, if they haven’t tried to contact you.”
They’d know better than to try to bracket an Ancient. There were reasons they lived so long and being tolerant of threats wasn’t one of them. Part of Alex wished they would try to corner Marcus—even better if he had Constance with him. His only regret would be if that actually went down and he wasn’t there to see how quickly Marcus and Constance dealt with them.
The next order of business was the gate. Alex got out and opened the gate with his key. He pulled the Explorer through and parked. He took a multitool out of the glove compartment and walked back to the keypad.
Despite owning the whole complex and residing on the top floors, he wasn’t the only one who lived here. If they had done something malicious to the keypad beyond just rendering it inoperable, Alex needed to know. It wouldn’t do to have a resident blown sky-high on his account.
He carefully removed the screws on the faceplate and pulled it away. They had just disconnected the front plate from the internal electronics. Pretty simple. Alex pushed the connector back into place and tried the code. The gate reacted. Alex made a show of putting the plate back on. But his eyes were scanning the other buildings. He could see nothing.
He finished and walked back through the gate, letting the time delay shut it behind him. He climbed back into the Explorer and drove to the parking garage.
He still had another bolt-hole in this city. Some office space leased through a dummy corporation that interested parties would have trouble tying to him. If he had to, he could still get away.
He could have easily sent a code word, the one that would erase Alejandro Romer from the world and establish someone new. That would imply he was running. Which might also imply a chase, depending on who was paying attention.
He had one more stop before he could go up and shower this gunk off him.
He pulled the Explorer into the parking garage and backed it up to the entrance of a storage unit. He got out and got his first good look at the damage to the rear of the SUV. It had survived the crash in much better condition than the sedan and had taken the brunt of the damage on the bumper. Still, the metal was dented and warped around the door. He hoped it would still open. He tried it. It stuck.
He pulled at it long and slow, using the last measure of his reserves. The metal groaned in protest, but after a moment, it gave way and swung open. Okay, now he just hoped it would close. The lock mechanism looked shot. His joints were beginning to stiffen up and his skin was turning ashy. If he didn’t get some sunlight soon, he was going to look like a mummy again, and that wouldn’t be helpful to anyone.
He unlocked the door to the storage unit and flicked the light on. Everything was as he’d left it. Shelves bracketed the walls covered in items Alex had hoped he’d never need again. This was UMBRA stuff. Stuff no one had asked for when UMBRA ceased to exist. Alex had helped himself—but, again, better safe than sorry.
He reached under one of the shelves and pulled out what he was looking for, a large black Pelican case. It looked like those pricey cases that people used to carry around very expensive electronic equipment, and in a way, that was appropriate. He knelt down, his knees groaning and popping with the effort, unlocked it, and opened it up. It was just as he’d left it.
There was a black LCD panel with an entry keypad and a keyhole. The associated keys were still taped to the faceplate after all this time, just as he expected them to be. Alex knew that beneath the matte black faceplate was enough octanitro to blow this building—any building—sky-high. Octanitrocubane was currently the most powerful nonnuclear explosive known to man. Civilians had only recently been able to manufacture small quantities. But UMBRA had had it for years. It was very stable, it was shock-insensitive, and it put out a very very big bang. This was a doomsday device. If you ever had to use this, it meant you were officially having a really bad day. Marcus had dubbed the device Rubicon, after the river in northern Italy.
The story went that Julius Caesar was marching his army back from Gaul. Roman la
w prohibited any Roman general to march an army south of the Rubicon. Caesar deliberately violated the law and marched his army toward Rome. His actions signaled his intentions against his rival Pompey and the Senate, and helped make a Roman civil war inevitable. As far as the case was concerned, it was Marcus’s way of saying that if you used it, there was no going back.
Alex took the battery out of the device and fetched a fresh one from the charger. He carefully inserted it. Took one of the keys, placed it into the keyhole, and turned it to the first position.
The LCD screen lit up. Alex checked the settings and made sure to link it to his phone for remote detonation. He thought briefly of turning the key to the second position, arming the device, then thought better of it. He removed the key, put it on his key ring, and closed the case.
He put the case into the back of the Explorer. Then he went back into the storage unit and brought out other tools he hoped he wouldn’t need—pistol crossbows with silver bolts, industrial-strength garlic spray foam. The police did have some garlic Mace. But they’d designed that stuff to subdue. The Mace Alex had just loaded would throw your average vampire into anaphylactic shock. This was a product designed to kill, stuff the police couldn’t have because it just wasn’t PC to carry a substance expressly designed to terminate members of the new population.
He threw a box of silver-plated stakes and some silver-plated machetes into the back. The whole deal with the silver might be overkill. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. People had gotten the idea about silver affecting vampires and thropes from early movies. The idea had caught on for a reason: Sometimes it was true. He wasn’t sure where Hollywood had gotten their information for those early films. However, he had to admit: Sometimes even cheesy movies were right on the money.
One more trip brought out a case of electronic flash-bangs. These emitted a higher frequency than humans could hear and gave off a lot of UV radiation. It was nonlethal, but caused vampires extreme discomfort. He took one of the cylinders, about the size of a road flare, out of the case and slipped it into his jacket pocket, just in case. He made a mental note to pick up a fresh UV vest when he made it into work.
Graveyard Shift Page 17