by Neal Penn
“But Lolly!” Noelle almost screamed the words.
“Look, honey, listen. I love that dog but I don’t love her more than I love you. There’s nothing we can do until we work out what’s going on.” He pulled off the freeway. The parking lot for the restaurant was right in front of him. He pulled in, found a parking space and turned the engine off.
“Do you know what’s going on?” The wine wasn’t steadying her. She sounded very much like she was on the brink of tears. She turned to look at him, her face uncertain, and her bottom lip quivering just a little bit.
Crane unscrewed the cap on the vodka with his teeth. He spat it onto the floor and drained the bottle.
“I think I do, Elle. I think I just figured the whole goddamn thing out.”
Chapter Eighty-Nine
The clock read 5:03 a.m. when Gladys called and put Aiken through to him. “Walker’s dead and Sage is gone. He jumped through the damned window, dropped three stories, and disappeared into the night. He was hit at least four times.”
“Damn.” None of the people after him knew how to kill him. “Our operatives get here tomorrow, right?”
“Yes, sir. Uh …” He knew the question that Aiken wanted to ask.
“Only a head shot, Aiken. It’s near to impossible to do enough damage to him to kill him.” He took a drink of the bourbon he’d kept close at hand for hours. “A heart shot might do it, but maybe not. An explosion could incapacitate him, kill him if he was close enough to it, but the only way to be sure is a head shot.”
He’d read the file but hadn’t believed it entirely. Not until now.
“I’ll make sure they know tomorrow.”
“Is there any fallout from this?” Another drink, but the bourbon wasn’t really doing anything for him anymore. He put the glass down.
“Minimal, if any. Walker was a free agent, not directly on our payroll. Senteeri is stuck in the parking lot, but he’s actual law enforcement, so we won’t have any issues with him.”
“Okay. Any way they can link us to Crane and his girl?” They hadn’t had any real interaction, but there was the issue of the payoff to the captain at the police station.
“What do you mean? Because it was their hotel room? I’ve already hacked in and changed the name on the room and the records on the credit cards.” Aiken was nothing if not efficient, and the germ of an idea began forming in his head.
“Good work, son. Still, what about their bodies? You can’t get every database with their information cleaned.” Oh, what the hell. He picked up the bourbon again and drank.
“Sir, they got out. They weren’t killed.” Aiken said the words almost reverently, almost like he was singing an orchestral hymn.
“They got away from Walker and Sage?” Who the hell is this guy, and why isn’t he working for us? “Do the police have them again?” He wasn’t sure if two releases within hours was a possibility.
“Yeah, they got away. They’re not in custody; they’re in the wind. We don’t know where they are. You want me to see if we can find them?”
“Of course I want you to find them, Aiken.” He slammed the glass of bourbon down hard, and liquid splashed out and over his hand.
“But doesn’t it make more sense to use the resources we have to find Sage? I mean, with respect, sir.”
“Aiken, for the last few days, Crane has been way ahead of us. If we find him, we’re going to find Sage.”
Chapter Ninety
Ray-Ray opened her gun case and began methodically re-assembling it. The new orders from Nero were interesting and unexpected. That worm, Ty Lewis, was worthless as hell, but Nero wasn’t the kind of man to walk away from fifty-thousand dollars.
She was in a copse of birch built into the landscaping next to the I-35, and the trees provided cover from both the freeway and the buildings to the side.
Crane was in the restaurant with his girl.
The gun came together and she screwed the silencer to the end. Then she attached the scope and began sighting on one of the mirrors on Crane’s rental car. Movement caught her eye and she moved the gun to focus on an opossum walking along the brick wall that surrounded the restaurant’s dumpsters.
She fired, and the animal’s head disappeared.
Then she trained the rifle back on the mirror and waited.
Her phone vibrated and she clicked the button. “Yes.”
It was Nero. “Are you almost done over there?”
“I’ve set up for the shot and I’m just waiting to take it.” She reached into her pocket, pulled out a granola bar, and tore open the wrapper with her teeth.
“When you get back, I have a few other jobs for you.” Of course he did.
“Naturally.”
“Everything okay?”
“Of course.”
“Hey, Ray-Ray, what do you think of Lewis?” Ray-Ray smiled. He was looking for approval. Fifty thousand dollars didn’t make him feel warm enough about his plans.
“He’s a worm, Nero. He’s a fucking worm.” She cracked her neck. “We should never have agreed to do business with him.”
“Yeah, well, whatta you gonna do?” Should have killed the bastard years ago, Nero. That’s what. “Sometimes opportunities present themselves for the taking, and sometimes you have to make opportunities to take.”
“Of course.” She pulled the gun up and looked through the windows. She could vaguely see Crane drinking coffee while a waitress stood nearby, probably taking their order. “He didn’t need to take out a contract, really. Crane’s been on the edge of getting killed for the last two days. He’s just getting lucky.”
“You gonna have any trouble over there?”
“Nero, how long have I worked for you?”
“No, I mean with Crane and all.”
“Crane can’t do anything to cause me trouble.”
“Okay, Ray-Ray. I’ll be at the restaurant if you need to get in touch with me, okay.” Nero hung up the phone, and Ray-Ray put it back in her pocket.
From another pocket, she withdrew a bottle of water. She unscrewed the cap and took a sip. Then, she set the bottle on the ground and sighted in on Crane’s mirror again.
Chapter Ninety-One
The waitress departed, and Crane sipped his coffee. It was strong, good. He was considering heading out to the car and the laundry bag to find some brandy to add, but he decided against it.
“Can you get online here?”
Noelle nodded. “I can use my cell phone. Why?”
“We’re going to email Sage again.” Noelle looked at him blankly. “See, Elle, Sage is the answer.”
“What do you mean?” She was at the end of her rope. Hang on just a little longer, baby.
“To the riddle. Look, you actually gave me the answer back home. You told me you thought Norwood was writing the truth. He was.” This whole thing was fucked up, no doubt, but it made sense except for one little part.
“I don’t—”
“Sage is Dennis Winslow. All of that super soldier shit in the book is true. They changed him somehow and sent him on all of these missions. That’s why they were trying to scare us away. The company doesn’t want us—”
“The company?”
“Winslow Defense, or whatever the hell the name is. They don’t want any of this shit to come to light. They don’t want anyone in touch with Sage.” The waitress arrived with fruit and cottage cheese for Noelle and scrambled eggs with cheese for Crane. As soon as the waitress was gone, he went on. “If those missions are true, there will be a hell of a lot of controversy and blowback. They don’t want it to come to light.”
“But if Sage or Winslow works for the company, why would he write the books? Why would he risk all of that money? Why would he kill Pinky and probably the other guy?” Noelle shook her head. “Why would he do any of this?”
“It’s the part that missing, Elle. He must have quit, or got fired, or something. This is his revenge or something like that. Either way, it’s the answer.”
; Noelle fiddled with her phone, simultaneously working the laptop. “But what happens when this is over, Roddie? What will the company do to us?” She turned the laptop around and pushed it to Crane. The email window was open, and Crane began to type.
“They’ll have to kill us, Elle. It’s the only way to keep the secrets.” He said it lightly, so lightly she thought she’d misheard – but when she asked him to repeat it, and he did, she knew she’d heard correctly. “Yeah. I imagine the only reason they didn’t do it before is they were hoping we’d draw Winslow out. We did. They’ve been ahead of us every step of the way.” He pressed send.
She took the laptop back and shut it. “What are we going to do, Roddie?”
“We’re going to screw them over. We’re going to twist their arms to the breaking point and we’re gonna laugh at them while they scream.”
Chapter Ninety-Two
He felt the water washing away the sweat and the grime and the blood. The wounds had all closed, and only the wounds the police had inflicted were still visible. They’d hit him three times; shoulder, back, and arm. He considered fishing out the lead with a knife but decided to wait until he was out of the country.
The man at the hotel had been looking for Crane and Phillips with a shotgun. That meant the two of them and Sage were allies, not enemies. Not correct: it meant they were enemies but they had another enemy in common, the company.
Phillips and Crane were out of touch now, either out of the city or sitting in the police station. That meant he had to focus on the company.
As the water coursed over him, he considered his options. It wasn’t yet six in the morning, which meant he couldn’t find what he’d need for any kind of explosives. He’d have to handle the company directly, a suicide mission for anyone but him, and still probably suicidal for him. No matter. You deserve it, Tommy.
He stepped out of the shower and dried himself with a towel. The steam was pink through the haze in his eyes, and he willed himself to calm down. I have to do this with my mind right now, not my training. He walked out of the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror.
It had all seemed perfect so long ago. Join the army, piss off Mom and Dad and be a hero. Then his father suggested an alternate plan, and he’d bought into the whole thing.
Why be a hero when you can be a superhero, right?
He looked old. More accurately, his face looked old. His body still looked as young as it had when he first got to the company, healthier actually.
Could he die naturally? Would his face just get older and older while his body stayed young and strong? He knew he could be killed if enough damage was done to his body at one time. He’d seen that happen to Jackson when a rocket-propelled grenade had hit the man full force in the chest and blown his body into six different pieces.
Still, if he never again encountered violence, would he live forever?
He turned away from the mirror and walked back into the room to get dressed. He was surprised to find the light on his phone blinking again and he picked it up. It was Crane again, using Tommy’s email. He read it, processed it, re-read it again. It was simple:
I know you’re Dennis Winslow. I can help. Denny’s four miles north of the hotel off the I-35
Sage stared at the words for four or five minutes before shaking his head. What the hell did Crane want? How did he ever get involved in the first place? If the company had hired him, they wouldn’t be after him right now. It didn’t make any sense.
Still, Crane’s message confirmed that he was a loose end. Sage had to deal with him.
He pulled on his clothes, his mind planning the assault on the company. He didn’t put too much effort into plans with the private detective. Crane would be easy, and if Phillips were with him, she’d be easy as well.
Still, maybe he could get some information from them before he killed them.
Chapter Ninety-Three
Noelle had cleared her plate now. Crane was just finishing his eggs.
“This still doesn’t make sense, Roddie. Not all of it anyway.”
“There are some holes.” Crane held up his cup until the waitress noticed him and came by to refill it. “Thanks.” The waitress smiled and walked away. “But it’s what happened. It’s the explanation that fits everything.”
“Okay, so the company wants to shut Winslow up, and for some reason he wants to blow the lid off of everything. They try to scare you off in the beginning but they figure you for the pig-headed jerk you are and it just makes you pissed, so yo—”
“Hey, you’re the one who said you wanted to nail the bastards to the wall.”
She rolled her eyes. “I had just been hog-tied, Roddie. You’re pig-headed by nature. So you keep at it, and they’re counting on you to help flush him into the open. Meanwhile, they find Tommy Norwood aka Lester Twill and kill him. Now, Winslow and the company are both gunning for us.”
Crane shook his head. “The company’s gunning for us, but I don’t think that Winslow is.”
“What are you going to do when he gets here?”
Crane took a long sip of the coffee. Noelle looked at him impatiently. “I’m going to tell him about his sisters looking for him. I’m going to tell him to go home. Between all three of them, they own a super-majority of the stock. They can get the company to stop whatever it’s doing.”
Noelle considered it for a few moments. “It might work. At this level, with this much money at stake it’s all about control, not cash. Still, it’ll be hell if you’re wrong.”
“The deepest, darkest corner.” Crane drained the cup. “But it’s the right course of action. We get Winslow to safety and then I pay a visit to the company.”
“Are you sure your plan will work, Roddie?”
Crane looked at her. Then he reached out and stroked her cheek. “It has to, Elle. I don’t want us to die, and I don’t want to spend the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders. This is the way out – probably the only way out.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I have to be.”
“Okay, I’m in. I’ll get that stuff together and…” Her words trailed off and her eyes grew wide. Crane turned to where she was looking and saw Winslow walking through the door. The giant of a man stood in the entryway, scanned the patrons, and found their booth. He nodded at Crane and walked toward them.
“So,” he said in a voice that was remarkably cultured for a man that looked like he did, “you’re Rodney Crane, private detective from Maryland? I saw you on Tommy’s doorstep.”
Crane looked at him and nodded. “What do you prefer? Dennis or John?”
Chapter Ninety-Four
Ray-Ray watched the big man enter the restaurant and walk up to Crane. She kept the gun pointed in that direction to look through the scope.
It was just after six in the morning. She had to be done by nine to get back to Maryland in the afternoon as she’d promised Nero.
This new job was irritating her. It put time pressure onto the other one.
Crane gestured to the man to sit down, but the big man continued to stand. Finally, Crane appeared to convince him because the man sat next to the girlfriend. She looked very uncomfortable, nervous as hell.
Ray-Ray kept the scope trained at the table and reached to the ground for her water.
Crane was doing all of the talking, and the man was nodding. The girl wasn’t saying anything.
She scanned back to the parking lot. She’d have to do it in the parking lot. It was the only way to guarantee she was done in time. Damn, Nero. I’m cutting it close. She didn’t like cutting things close, at least not when the choice to cut it close wasn’t her choice to make.
She looked back into the restaurant. The big man was talking now. He was a killer. She could tell that just by looking at him. Her business demanded that she know how to recognize men like him.
Still, he wasn’t threatening them. In fact, the conversation looked amicable. Crane got excited at times, but it wasn’t anger. He look
ed more like a kid who’d just aced an oral exam.
The big man suddenly stood. She watched as Crane stood as well. He reached into his back pocket and pulled a few bills out of his wallet, tossing them on the table.
Then the girl stood. She went into the restroom, and the two men waited by the front counter for her. The man was at the ready.
She briefly considered what would happen if a couple of small-timers picked that moment to try to rob the Denny’s. A lot of blood. She took another sip of her water. The girl came out of the bathroom and joined the men.
The three of them walked toward the rental car. Ray-Ray followed them in the gun sights.
She ran the crosshairs over the side of Crane’s girlfriend’s head and idly considered pulling the trigger but decided against it.
She brought the scope to the big man and then back to Crane. The truth was Crane wasn’t unattractive. In fact, he was fairly good-looking in a helpless fuck-up sort of way.
She ran the crosshairs from the base of his neck up to the back of his skull, and as he changed direction so the angle allowed, behind his ear, over his temple, and toward his cheekbones. He had lines that were just a little too deep around his eye sockets, and a nose that was a little too perfect. Even through the scope, she could see the capillaries in his eyes, bloodshot from too much booze and not enough sleep.
She rather liked Crane. He had been ferocious the few times she’d needed him in court, and he’d even showed some balls when she’d called him on the phone before he got on the plane. Maybe the money was uncollectible, but even that was understandable given the circumstances. She watched in close up through the scope as his jaws moved with the conversation.
She took a long breath. There were a few other people in the parking lot now, and she figured it was time to fire. She clicked off the safety and put her finger over the trigger.