The Aggrieved

by Brett Battles

  She checked her fuel gauge—down to a quarter tank. She’d have to fill up somewhere in the next hour, but she wanted to get London behind her before she even thought about stopping.

  She glanced in her rearview mirror again. Cars and taxis and trucks and...

  That’s odd.

  There was a taxi several cars back that had someone riding up front in the passenger seat. The only time she’d seen that before was earlier this evening when she was on the A40. Now that this one had caught her attention, she thought the driver looked almost the same as the one in the other vehicle.

  She rubbed her eyes. It had been a long day, and the strain of driving in traffic at night hadn’t helped. She looked again, but the taxi was too far back for her to know for sure. The driver could be the same guy, or he could as easily be almost any other youngish man with dark hair. Whatever the case, the similarity wasn’t helping her calm down. The only way to do that would be to determine whether or not the men in the vehicle were a problem.

  She eased up on the gas pedal.

  “SOMETHING’S UP,” DYLAN said. “She just cut her speed by a few kilometers an hour for no reason.”

  “Is she on her phone?” Nate asked.

  “Can’t tell.”

  Dylan slowed to match Dehler’s pace, and started counting off seconds. When he hit twenty, he suspected the reduced speed was due to something more than a phone call. A few seconds later, when she was no longer four cars in front of them but three, he knew for sure.

  He took the next turn.

  “Did she see us?” Nate asked.

  “Don’t know, but something caught her attention. Jar, what’s Dehler doing now?”

  “Does not seem to be any change,” Jar said.

  Dylan clicked his tongue off the top of his mouth. He could be overreacting, but he didn’t think so. “We should stay out of her sight. Jar, we’re going to need your help again.”

  “Copy.”

  DEHLER’S GAZE FLICKED to the mirror, and froze.

  The taxi was gone.

  She searched to see if it’d switched lanes or fallen back, but no, it wasn’t on the road anywhere.

  It must have turned down the street they’d just passed. Had the driver realized she was trying to get a better look at him? Or had he simply reached the turnoff for his destination? All these unanswered questions were making her head throb.

  She sped up until she matched the flow of traffic again, her gaze switching back and forth from the road to the mirror in case the taxi reappeared. It didn’t.

  It’s okay. Concentrate on getting out of the city and taking things one step at a time.

  She loosened her grip on the steering wheel.

  One step at a time.

  WITH THE KASSAB matter closed, both Jar and Rosario focused on the Dehler situation.

  They guided first Dylan and then Quinn into the traffic behind Dehler, instructing them when they needed to make a change to remain out of Dehler’s view. As Dylan had predicted, once Dehler passed the backup on the A40, she made her way back, and soon all three vehicles were speeding west out of the city. The situation remained unchanged until Dehler was a kilometer from the transition to the M40.

  “She’s switching to the left lane,” Jar said.

  “Copy,” Dylan said. “Hey, we just passed a sign for Beaconsfield. Do you think she’s getting off?”

  “No turn signal yet, but she is slowing.”

  “If she does get off,” Rosario said, “there are a few hotels in town, and a service station right after the exit.”

  “Good to know,” Dylan said. “Thanks.”

  Five seconds later, a light started blinking on the front left corner of Dehler’s car.

  DEHLER’S FUEL GAUGE was hovering right above empty. If she hadn’t been stuck in all that damn traffic, she could have probably squeezed out another hour of driving, but at some point she would have to stop. At least she was well out of the city now.

  She took the Beaconsfield exit and followed the SERVICES sign to a Shell station that catered to passenger vehicles and cargo trucks. She pulled up to the pumps, started the petrol flowing, and used the wait to consult a map on her phone.

  The essence of her plan to this point had been no more than a vague notion of hitting a city where she could catch a flight to somewhere that wasn’t the UK. Birmingham was another hour and a half ahead of her, and it had an international airport. If things didn’t look good when she got there, she could continue on to Manchester or Liverpool. More planes there.

  And ferries to Ireland.

  She cocked her head. A boat might be the smartest choice of all. Have to give that some thought.

  Once the tank was topped off, she climbed back in her car and drove to one of the parking spots near the main building, so she could use the toilet before getting back on the road.

  QUINN WATCHED DEHLER through his binoculars as she pumped petrol. His sedan and Nate’s taxi were parked side by side in the darkness just beyond the station.

  “We’re not letting her back on the highway,” Quinn said.

  “Agreed,” Nate responded.

  “When she starts to leave, swing around so you’re in front of her. We’ll get behind, and then we’ll hit her from both ends.”

  “She’ll run,” Nate said.

  “If she can outrun all eight of us, she deserves to get away.”

  No response.

  “Looks like she’s finished,” Orlando said.

  At the station, Dehler placed the nozzle back on the pump. As she climbed into the front seat, Quinn said, “Here we go.”

  Dylan backed the taxi away and turned so that it was on the road, waiting. Keeping his foot on the brake, Quinn dropped the sedan into drive.

  “Hold on,” Orlando said. “She’s not leaving.”

  “What do you mean?” Nate asked. His new position didn’t allow him a good view of the station.

  Quinn, however, had a front-row seat as Dehler drove across the lot and pulled into one of the spots by the central building. “She’s going inside,” he said as she got out and walked toward the main door.

  “Suggestion,” Ananke said. “How about one of us also go in? There might be a chance to grab her.”

  “She’d take off the moment she saw us,” Nate said.

  “Saw you, maybe. But she doesn’t know me or Liesel.”

  “If she’s able to get to her car and leave before you get back to us, we can’t wait for you,” Quinn said.

  “I didn’t say you should.”

  “It might be worth a shot,” Orlando said.

  Quinn frowned, but knew she was right. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “You take the fun out of every situation, don’t you?” Ananke asked.

  ANANKE AND LIESEL exited the cab and hurried over to the station.

  Upon stepping inside, they split up. With a few minor differences, the interior of the market looked the same as those in large Shell stations back in the States. Rows of prepackaged food, coolers of drinks, and shelves of other items designed with life on the road in mind.

  Ananke scanned for Dehler but didn’t see her anywhere. Her shared glances with Liesel confirmed her friend had also come up empty. That left two possibilities. Either the woman had walked out another door and was already gone, or she was using the toilets.

  Ananke nodded at the restroom sign, and both women worked their way there. Ananke entered first with Liesel a few steps behind her. There were several stalls, one of which was in use. The only person in the common area was an older woman who’d just finished up at one of the sinks and was walking out.

  As soon as the woman was gone, Ananke angled herself to check under the closed stall door. Definitely occupied.

  After motioning to Liesel to move next to the hand dryer so she could cover the exit, Ananke stepped over to the sinks.

  And they then waited for the flush of a toilet.

  THE MORE DEHLER thought about it, the more she liked the idea of
a boat. It would be unexpected.

  She could then catch a flight in Dublin to somewhere like Malta or the Canary Islands. From either, it would be a simple skip over to Africa, where she could disappear for years. That was much better than her Bulgarian cabin plan.

  She stood, refastened her pants, and flushed the toilet.

  She was starting to feel like she might soon see the light at the end of the long, dark tunnel she’d been trapped in. About time.

  When she opened the stall door, she saw a tall African woman at the sinks, and another woman with her back to Dehler at the hand dryers. The woman washing her hands glanced at her in the mirror and went back to what she was doing, while the other woman didn’t react at all. By all appearances, they were two travelers, refreshing themselves before hitting the road again.

  But there was something about them that caused Dehler to slow as she walked toward the sinks. Both women were incredibly fit, and not only in the way most fit people were. These women’s muscles were toned for hard use, like their daily lives depended on it. If only one of them had been like that, not a big deal. But two had Dehler’s internal threat radar pinging so loudly that she decided to skip washing her hands.

  Not wanting to telegraph her intentions, she kept walking toward the sinks, her expression tired and bored. Then, when she reached the point closest to the exit, she shot toward it.

  She almost made it, but the reaction of the woman at the dryers was just as fast as Dehler’s. The woman slammed backward, sending Dehler crashing into the wall that separated the sinks from the exit area.

  Dehler twisted away and reached for the door as her attacker spun around to grab her. She heard a pop behind her, and then the whoosh of something flying over her shoulder. When the object slammed into the door, she saw it was a dart, no doubt filled with some kind of liquid sleep.

  Dehler wrenched the door open just as the dryer woman clamped down on her shoulder, but Dehler was able to shake the hand off by ducking and twisting, then dashing into the store.

  She raced between the shelves of food, jerking side to side to not present an easy target. Even then, she expected a dart to slam into her back, and was surprised when she made it to the door without being hit.

  As she rushed outside, she glanced over her shoulder and saw the two women moving through the store, though not running like she had been. Obviously, they did not want to cause a scene.

  Having no such worries herself, she ran toward her car. All she had to do was get inside before the women got there and she could get away. But as she was yanking the door open, she heard the roar of an engine heading her way. She glanced at the access road leading away from the service station and saw a taxi racing toward her.

  A taxi with two people in front.

  Her car no longer an option, she ran toward the woods behind the station.

  WHEN ANANKE HEARD the stall opening, she looked into the mirror, as one would. The moment she confirmed it was Dehler, she moved her eyes away and continued washing her hands.

  She could still see Dehler’s reflection at the top of her vision, and tracked the woman as she approached the sinks. Ananke’s plan was to wait until Dehler started washing her hands before she put a dart in the woman’s side.

  Easy-peasy.

  Only things didn’t go so easy-peasy.

  Dehler, displaying no indication beforehand that anything was wrong, suddenly bolted for the restroom exit. By the time Ananke had her tranq gun out and turned to follow, Liesel had smashed the woman into the wall. Unfortunately, Liesel’s reaction had been a second too late, and Dehler had been able to stay on her feet.

  Ananke fired a shot at the woman’s shoulder. As a trained assassin, her aim was true. It was the target who screwed things up by leaning forward to grab the door, allowing the dart to sail harmlessly past her.

  Before Ananke could get off another shot, Dehler was out of the room and into the store.

  Ananke switched on her mic. “She’s heading outside. In a hurry.”

  “What happened?” Quinn asked.

  Ananke ignored the question as she and Liesel hurried into the store. Dehler was almost to the exit. Ananke wanted to run, but that would go against the whole plan to keep things as quiet as possible, so she and Liesel settled for walking at a fast pace.

  “She’s outside,” Ananke said. “We could really use some help!”

  She and Liesel left the store as Dehler reached her vehicle. From off to the left, the taxi was speeding toward the service station, and right behind it the sedan with Quinn and the others.

  Dehler had seen them, too, and must have realized it was impossible to get away in her car, because she sprinted down the front of the station and disappeared around the side.

  Ananke and Liesel took off after her.

  “GO AROUND! GO around!” Nate said.

  “Yeah, I know,” Dylan replied as the taxi sped through the station. When they reached the end of the building, he turned around it.

  At the far reaches of their lights they could see Ananke and Liesel running toward a grove of trees.

  Over the comm, Orlando said, “Jar, Dehler’s in the woods southeast of the station. What’s that area look like?”

  Dylan slammed on the brakes as the cab approached the end of the asphalt. Before the vehicle came to a full stop, Nate was out the door and running. The women had passed into the woods so he aimed for the last spot he’d seen them. Behind him, he heard more doors opening and knew the others were on foot now, too.

  “There are several acres of trees,” Jar said. “After, farm fields to the east and the south. She is headed south now. If she keeps that way, after she goes through the fields, she will reach more woods that are at least three kilometers deep.”

  “Copy,” Orlando said.

  Nate flew across the uneven ground until he was among the trees, where he paused only long enough to pick up the sound of pounding feet ahead. After turning on his phone’s flashlight, he started running again.

  “Jar, can you get a fix on Ananke’s position?” Orlando asked.

  “I have it,” Rosario said. “She is about eighty meters from you and sixty from Nate. Nate, you need to veer a little to your right.”

  Nate clicked his mic and did as instructed.

  Each time his foot hit the ground, he felt another surge of adrenaline. They were in the endgame now. Liz’s killer was not going to get away this time.

  “Ananke is approaching the south end of the woods,” Jar reported. “After that are a couple of fields separated by a smaller area of trees, and then the big woods.”

  “We can’t let her get that far,” Nate said. “Ananke, do you still have her in sight?”

  “Yeah,” Ananke said. “Right ahead of us.”

  Nate dug deep, ratcheting up his speed. Soon, he saw Ananke and Liesel, and a few seconds after that he blew by them.

  Ahead, he spotted Dehler’s silhouette. She was halfway across the first field. He shot out from the trees, closing the gap between them with every stride, and by the time she entered the small copse of trees at the other side, he was only a few meters behind her.

  She glanced over her shoulder, panic in her eyes. She increased her speed, but Nate matched her pace.

  The moment he knew he was close enough, he launched himself at her. She sensed something was up and tried to move to the side, but he smacked into the small of her back and tackled her to the ground.

  She tried to roll out from under him, but he pinned her down and pulled out his gun. Not the dart gun. He’d left that in the taxi. In his hand was a fully loaded, suppressor-enhanced SIG SAUER P226.

  “What the hell is wrong with you people? Why won’t you leave me alone?”

  “You’re not that stupid. You know why.”

  “Jesus, it was just a job! I’m sorry Quinn’s sister got—”

  “Shut up!”

  The woman persisted. “Goddammit, it was just a job!”

  “You think I care? The only thing that
matters to me is that you killed Liz.”

  Dehler looked at him, confused, for a second. Then she closed her eyes and groaned. “Oh, shit, you had feelings for her, didn’t you? I’m sorry she’s dead, okay? But she shouldn’t have been—”

  Nate pressed the gun against her forehead. “Not okay.”

  QUINN AND ORLANDO ran through the woods with Daeng, Monica, and Dylan right behind them. When they reached the field, it was empty.

  “Jar, which way did they go?” Orlando asked.

  “Stay on a straight line and that will take you right to them.”

  Quinn sprinted into the clearing, thoughts whirling in his mind, vying for his attention. He’d known catching Dehler wouldn’t bring Liz back, but he couldn’t just let the woman go. Now that he was so close, he realized how empty his quest had been. Yes, Dehler needed to pay for what she’d done, but whatever that price was, it would not do anything to lessen Quinn’s grief.

  As they moved back amongst the trees, Quinn could hear a woman’s voice saying, “Goddammit, it was just a job!”

  “You think I care? The only thing that matters to me is that you killed Liz.” Nate, pure hatred dripping from his voice.

  Four more steps, and Quinn found Nate straddled across Dehler on the ground. Standing nearby were Ananke and Liesel, looking unsure what to do.

  “Oh, shit,” Dehler was saying, “you had feelings for her, didn’t you? I’m sorry she’s dead, okay? But she shouldn’t have been—”

  “Not okay,” Nate said, and then jammed his gun against her head.

  “Nate!” Orlando said.

  Nate made no sign he’d heard her.

  Quinn knew Nate was about to pull the trigger, and part of him wished his partner would. But instead, he said, “Nate, don’t.”

  For a second, it seemed as if Nate had not heard this, either, but then he turned, his eyes blazing with anger and revenge, his chest heaving with each furious breath. As he looked at Quinn, though, he began to calm. Finally he said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want her to get away again, and wasn’t thinking. Here.” He handed the gun to Quinn and stood up. “Liz was your sister.”