Devil's Dance (Trackdown Book 1)

by Michael A. Black

  Forty minutes later Eagan sat in his suite in the hotel and sipped a Club Soda as he contemplated the op thus far. He was far from satisfied. Things seemed loose, and he didn’t like loose. He’d been less than impressed with this guy Reno Garth and his muscle-bound associate after they’d been summoned up to the conference room by the Arizona bail bondsman. “The Bounty Hunter of the Year,” as fat Manny had introduced him, seemed like more of a blowhard with a Mohawk haircut and an old-style, king of the cowboys, fringe jacket than a professional. And the guy’s partner, Black Hercules, looked like a gorilla in a tuxedo. He wondered if they had the smarts to follow instructions and not screw up. Eagan had asked them if they knew how to follow the coordinates on a map and the one called Reno looked at him like he’d just been asked a question about nuclear physics.

  “We can provide you with a GPS,” Cummins said, interceding.

  That could work, as long as they retrieved the instrument from them after they’d dropped off Accondras at the LZ.

  It seemed simple enough. All they had to do was grab Accondras from his parent’s villa, and the private dick, Zerbe, was supposedly working that angle, then bring him to the pre-planned location, and then get their payoff. That their payoff would be in lead instead of Benjamins would be their problem. Once they’d committed to doing this job they just became one more loose end that had to be tied up before the rest of the Viper crew could make it back to safe soil. He wondered, however, if they’d be missed. Being Bounty Hunter of the Year carried a certain notoriety in the skip-tracer circuit.

  Maybe bringing them into the deal wasn’t such a good idea after all.

  But Eagan also knew he needed that layer of insulation to seal him, Fallotti, and ultimately Von Dien from any subsequent scrutiny, should things go wrong. Of course, if Reno and Herc were apprehended by the Mexican police, they were registered bounty hunters trying to apprehend an actual fugitive wanted on a legitimate warrant. They would rot in some Mexican jail with nobody to pay to get them out. But the Bounty Hunter of the Year?

  Maybe somebody would, he thought. And that could lead back to us.

  Eagan blew out a slow breath.

  Cummins seemed satisfied, but it had been his lack of foresight and piss poor planning that had forced the scrambled cover-up back in Iraq framing Wolf. It worked out well that Nasim had set up that IED. Came in handy to add a bit of punctuation to Wolf’s patrol escort. But the whole thing was sloppy even though Lieutenant Butterball had claimed to have all the bases covered. This time, Eagan wasn’t going to be left holding the bag. He had no IEDs to detonate this time.

  His cell phone buzzed and he glanced at the number.

  Speak of the devil, he thought, and pressed the button to answer the call.

  “You ain’t gonna believe it,” Cummins said. He was virtually panting and out of breath and his voice sounded panicked.

  “Slow down,” Eagan said. “Believe what?”

  “Wolf. He’s here.”

  “What? Where?”

  “Here in the hotel. I just saw him. I went downstairs with Manny for a celebratory drink, but I had to go take a piss first. When I came out, I saw Manny talking to two guys and one of them’s Wolf.”

  “What? You sure it’s him?”

  “God damn right I am.”

  “He see you?”

  “No, when I seen him, I ducked behind a pillar and called you.”

  Another fuck-up. But if Lieutenant Blubber could be believed, this one could be salvaged. But how the hell did Wolf, of all people, suddenly get on the scene, and what was he doing talking to that Manny guy? Could he have somehow gotten wind of them?

  “Eagan?” Cummins voice said on the phone. “You there?”

  “Yeah. They still talking to him?”

  “Don’t know,” Cummins said. “I hightailed it outta there. Want me to go back and look?”

  That wouldn’t do. Lieutenant Blubber was about as stealthy as a hungry St. Bernard in a butcher shop. It was better to operate on the assumption that Wolf, however he got there, hadn’t seen Cummins, and didn’t know why they were there.

  But that fat fuck, Manny, did.

  “No,” Eagan said. “Get your ass back up here without letting them see you.”

  “But—”

  “I don’t want to hear any fucking buts. Just do it. I don’t care if you have to walk the out the front exit and circle around to the employees’ entrance. Don’t let them see you. You got it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. Now do it.”

  Eagan hung up without waiting for a response.

  Some fucking army officer material, he thought. And in military intelligence, no less. That gasbag couldn’t figure his way out of a men’s room with two entrances. He scrolled through his cell phone lexicon and pressed the button for Teddy’s number. It rang several times and then went to voice mail.

  Eagan thought about leaving a message but decided against it. Instead, he went to his room phone and dialed the front desk. The skeleton had mentioned that he wanted to get laid. Maybe he was waiting on some pussy.

  When the receptionist answered he asked to be connected to Mr. Graham’s room. The phone rang once and Teddy picked up sounding anxious.

  “We need to talk,” Eagan said.

  “Ah, can’t it wait. I’m expecting company.”

  Eagan figured that meant he was waiting on a hooker for room service.

  “No, it can’t. I need you to call your buddy, Manny. We got to see him. We got a problem in the making.”

  “Huh? What kind of problem.”

  “I’ll explain when you get to my room.”

  “But I got a girl on the way.”

  “So call her back and tell her you’ll be a while. When we’re finished here, I’ll buy you two of them. Call that fat fucker, Manny back right now and tell him we got to see him immediately. Alone. And find out who those two guys he was just talking to are.”

  “Huh? What two guys?”

  Eagan took a deep breath before he answered. This was like running a football play with a bunch of players who didn’t understand the game.

  “He was just down in the bar talking to—” He stopped. Better not to try to explain it right now. “Never mind. Just get your ass down to my room. Now.”

  Teddy was silent for a few seconds, then heaved a sigh and said, “Okay. On the way.”

  He sounded like a teenager who’d been stood up on his first date.

  Eagan terminated the call and suddenly came up with a new idea. Maybe this thing was salvageable after all.

  He quickly dialed Nasim’s cell and waited. The last thing in world he needed now would be for that camel jockey to go prancing around in the casino and have Wolf see him. The Arab answered on the second ring.

  “Where are you?” Eagan asked.

  “In my room. It is almost time for Maghrib.”

  Maghrib— Sundown prayers. This fucker was more devout than Eagan remembered. Or maybe it was just being caught up in all the Western glitter of Las Vegas.

  Brings out the Muslim in the best of them, Eagan thought.

  “There’s a problem,” he said. “A significant one. I need you to stay in your room, out of sight, until you hear from me. If you need food, order room service. Understand?”

  “Yes.”

  Eagan resisted the temptation to say Insahala, Arabic for And so it goes, fearing Nasim would take it as sarcasm. He still needed the towelhead to authenticate the artifact. Instead he repeated a few banalities and said that he would re-contact him shortly, after things were safe.

  Someone knocked at the door. Eagan was there in three steps and pulled it open.

  The human skeleton stood there looking even more emaciated. Losing his chance to get some professional tail seemed to have drained him even more.

  “You get a hold of your buddy, Manny?”

  “Yeah,” Teddy said. “He asked me what’s up and where you wanted to meet.”

  “Okay, call him back and
tell him you’ll meet him in the conference room in ten minutes. Makes sure he comes alone. And ask him who those two guys he was talking to in the bar a few minutes ago.”

  Teddy winced and then shrugged. He took out his phone and poised above the screen. “What am I supposed to tell him again?”

  Christ, thought Eagan. He repeated his last instructions and ended with, “Tell him there’s a problem that just came up with our business proposition. Tell him it involves money.”

  Teddy nodded and made the call.

  As Eagan listened to Teddy’s side of it there was another knock on the door. Eagan opened it and saw Cummins face, reddening and wet with perspiration.

  Eagan pulled the fat man inside and glanced up and down the hallway.

  Nobody.

  “He didn’t see me,” Cummins said.

  Teddy was talking on the phone but Eagan could make little of the conversation. After listening to a series of grunts, the skeleton hung up.

  “Okay, he’s on the way,” Teddy said.

  “He say who those guys were he was talking to?”

  “Yeah, a couple of bounty hunters he knows.”

  “Bounty hunters?”

  “Yeah. The guy’s name is Big Jim McNamara. Him and his new partner. They’re from Phoenix.”

  Phoenix … So that’s where Wolf had landed after getting out of Leavenworth. His mind worked, then it came to him. It was all about tying up those loose ends, and this one had been dropped in his lap. It was too good to pass up.

  “They any good?” Eagan asked.

  Teddy shrugged.

  “Ask him,” Eagan said. He scrolled on his phone and pressed Dan Reynolds’s cell. He was one of the few Vipers with a bit of formal education and was well spoken. He used to be part of Stu’s sale pitch meetings. Reynolds answered after three rings.

  “You got a suit or sports jacket with you?” Eagan asked.

  “No, why?”

  “Go down to the gift shop and get a nice dress shirt and a necktie,” Eagan said. “Something conservative. And some bandages to cover the Viper tattoo on your hand. Then double-time it and get back to my room.”

  “Roger that,” Reynolds said.

  He was a bright, dependable guy who looked enough like a lawyer to pass for one. Except for the damn tattoo. It was going to take a bit of crafting, like pulling off a quarterback sneak on the one-yard line, but it could work.

  If I can keep juggling all these balls in the air, Eagan thought.

  Chapter Ten

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  “But I thought you’d decided on using Reno and Herc?” Teddy said.

  “Changed my mind,” Eagan said.

  Teddy blew out a long breath. “Well, I don’t know if he’s gonna like that. Manny already told them they got the job.”

  Eagan frowned. “I’ll talk to Reno. I got his cell number. I’ll call him and tell him we’ve got him some helpers.”

  Teddy shook his head. “But Manny said the four of them don’t like each other. Bad blood.”

  That was even better. It would make things easier.

  “I already said I’d take care of Reno.” Eagan felt his anger level rising. Dealing with these idiots was always irritating, but necessary. “Just don’t tell Wolf and his buddy anything about Reno.”

  “But what if these other guys ask questions. Maybe they seen me talking to Reno and that big black guy.”

  Eagan thought about this. It was a possibility. After a few seconds of consideration, he said, “All right, if they ask, tell them that Reno’s having second thoughts. Like he’s afraid to go down in Mexico.”

  Teddy’s mouth pulled tight. “I don’t know. I hear that dude, Reno’s pretty tough. He’s an MMA fighter and prides himself on being a professional badass.”

  “I’ll handle him.”

  “But what if he don’t go along with that?”

  “Just do it. I told you, I’ll handle him.” Eagan thought about it some more. It could be just what the doctor ordered: another layer of insulation between him and Accondras’s abduction south of the border. It certainly couldn’t hurt.

  Teddy shrugged. “Okay, if that’s the way you want it.”

  “That’s the way I want it,” Eagan said. “When Manny gets here take him down to the casino and find Wolf and his buddy offer them the fucking job.”

  Teddy turned, then halted. “How will I know who the hell they are?”

  “Have Manny call them. I’m sure he has their number.”

  Teddy frowned. “I don’t like it. What if he don’t buy it? Word might’ve gotten around that you already hired Reno and Herc.”

  Eagan blew out a slow breath. “Just do what I fucking told you. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  Teddy shrugged and rolled his eyes. “And I was about to get laid.”

  There was a knock at the door. Eagan strode over and opened it and saw Reynolds standing there holding a white plastic bag.

  “Got the stuff,” he said.

  Eagan pulled him inside, looked out, and glanced up and down the hallway.

  No sign of Manny yet. He closed the door. Reynolds was already slipping off his polo shirt. The Viper tattoo extended down his forearm and encroached onto the top part of his right hand.

  “Hey, he’s got a tattoo like yours,” Teddy said.

  Eagan ignored him and ripped open the box of Band-Aids. He thrust the torn box toward Reynolds, who began peeling the adhesive strips and placing them over his tattoo.

  Cummins peered down at the process.

  “Reynolds,” Eagan said. “You’re going to be playing a representative of the law firm of Fallotti and Abraham for this little interlude. Jack here will brief you on what to say.”

  Cummins nodded at Reynolds, who grabbed the folded shirt and began removing the securing pins.

  Teddy’s face scrunched up. “You ain’t coming with me like before?”

  “No. Wolf can’t know that Cummins and I are involved.”

  “Huh? Why not?”

  “We’ve got history. Bad history.”

  “I don’t know,” Teddy said. “This whole thing’s starting to stink pretty bad.”

  “It’ll work,” Eagan said. “Throw some dough at them.” He gave Teddy a wad of cash. “Buy them all some drinks. Remember, say you called Manny because Reno was having second thoughts, like he’s afraid to go down to Mexico. If they don’t like each other, they’ll jump at it. Reynolds can give Wolf just enough info to get him down there.”

  Teddy’s cell phone rang and he answered it.

  “Yeah, Manny,” Teddy said, his skeletal face turning toward Eagan with a smile. “Where you at? We gotta talk.”

  “Where the hell did Manny go in such a hurry?” Wolf asked.

  McNamara shrugged. “Don’t know, but I told him I was expecting him to steer us onto some new clients.”

  “I wonder what him and Reno were talking about earlier?”

  They’d seen the heavyset bail bondsman emerge from the elevators with both Reno and Herc. When the two bounty hunters had departed for the convention floor, Mac had caught Manny’s eye and waved him over. After a brief conversation, during which Manny seemed particularly evasive, the bail bondsman got a call and abruptly departed.

  “I guess we’ll have to wonder about that. Something was off, though.” He stopped, his eyes widening. “Oh, Lord. Lookie there.”

  He rotated his stool back facing the bar as a trio of elegantly dressed women, one white, one Hispanic, and one black, wound their way through the crowd of slots and gaming tables toward the bar area. Wolf’s regarded the one closest to him, the tallest of the three. She had a mane of auburn hair that hung down to the mid-back of the black blazer and pants-suit. Every curve was deliciously accentuated. She was holding hands with the equally stunning Hispanic female on her left, who was clad in a metallic-looking gold jacket and white pants. Her dark hair was cut short, ending just below her jawline, and she had the features of a fashion model. The Latina’s head cant
ed to the left as she was talking to an equally gorgeous African American girl, who was wearing a purplish-red cape over a blazer with slits down the sleeves and a white tank top. Her black pencil leg slacks stopped perfectly at her ankle, trying to reach a pair of shiny stilettos so high Wolf wondered how the hell she could walk without losing her balance. Her hair, which Wolf thought looked fabulous, was pulled up in a high ponytail and the gold hoop earrings giving her kind of an I Dream of Jeannie look.

  Wolf let his gaze wander upward again and locked eyes with the bluish-green eyes the red-haired woman who immediately stopped.

  “So what you looking at, sonny boy?” she asked.

  Wolf thought he heard the trace of a Southern accent. Embarrassed at being called out for staring, he smiled and said, “Nothing, ma’am.”

  “Ma’am?” The woman rolled her eyes and glanced to her companions. “I’m going to have to take this damn outfit back to my fashion designer.”

  The Latina smirked.

  “Honey,” the black girl said. “That ain’t the question you should be asking. It should be, ‘Do you like what you see?’”

  How could I not? Wolf thought but felt at this point it was better to remain silent.

  “Hey,” McNamara said rotating on his stool with an accompanying chuckle. “Like old Dino used to say, you can’t go to jail for what you’re thinking. Can you, Dolly?”

  The redhead’s lips went from a challenging sneer to a surprised smile. “Well, Big Jim McNamara, as I live and breathe.” She stopped and threw her arms around him, pushing her ample cleavage against his chest as she planted a kiss on his cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to the conference? We could’ve met for drinks, or something.”

  “Or something?” McNamara flashed a grin and tipped his fingers off the brim of his hat. “That sounds promising.”

  “One of these days I’m gonna have to get you a Texas hat, darling,” she said.

  As she leaned back Wolf saw that she wasn’t quite as young as he’d initially thought she was. He put her in her late thirties. Maybe early forties.

  The woman released her embrace and her both of companions then repeated the gesture, each giving McNamara a tight hug and a kiss. The black girl wiggled herself against him conspicuously. “How’s my big boo daddy?”