Forgive No More

by Seb Kirby

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Tell you what?”

  “You’re using this phone to track me.”

  He hesitated for a moment. “It is an operational matter. Something you do not need to be concerned about. A means to allow us to be sure of your safety. There was no need to make matters more complicated by telling you this. It was for your benefit.”

  I laughed but I felt more like crying. “You don’t know what damage your concern for my safety has done, Inspector.”

  “Do I detect a sense of ingratitude, Signor Blake?”

  I was overcome by his attempt to trivialize what I was telling him. “Wise up, Manieri. The Landos have a man inside the Questura, tracking me for them. A good man has died. Others have had their lives put at risk. You have responsibility for that.”

  I opened the passenger window and threw the phone out onto the highway.

  The threat was real that Manieri would go to the international authorities now. I didn’t care. I was overwhelmed by a sense of injustice.

  I began apologizing to Ferrara. It was futile since the one I should have been saying this to was Arndt Schreiber and I had led a killer to him. Yet this was all I could do.

  Ferrara removed his right hand from the wheel and gestured me to stop. “This will not help now, James. Now the phone is gone, we may be able to outrun Heller.”

  I looked behind. The BMW was closing. Heller had opened the driver window and was taking aim with a rifle.

  Ferrara swerved into the inside lane as the shot rang out, the bullet impacting instead the tailgate of one of the delivery trucks slowing our progress. He swerved back into the outside lane, overtook the truck, gunned the Giulietta and we began to pull away, hoping that our superior acceleration and speed would win the day.

  The luck Ferrara had talked about was with us as we raced on to a stretch of the Autostrada outside of Fasano that had light traffic. As we put real distance between us and the BMW, the risk now was of being stopped by highway police as the Giulietta took us through the 200 km/ hr, barrier.

  We pulled off the Autostrada at Monopoli, took connecting roads until we found a disused airport, pulled off the road and waited behind a line of trees.

  Without the tracker, Heller was at a disadvantage but would be waiting somewhere near in the hope of catching sight of us if we ventured back onto the Autostrada.

  Ferrara was confident he could find a route to make the journey back north without being seen. He began typing information into the Giulietta’s navigation system. When he’d finished, he sat back. “It will take a little longer but I think this will be safe enough.”

  Chapter 56

  El Romero eyed the US agent with regret.

  Such a waste.

  Why was a beautiful woman like this mixed up in this world where life was cheap and came and went on the breeze?

  The Americans had no shame in sending their women into danger.

  He knew she would have to be killed. But for now he needed to know why she was here.

  It would come down to torture, he’d always known that. He would not stay in the room and watch the harming of a woman. But she would not speak.

  El Romero turned to Ramirez who wasted no time in beginning to work on her. When the woman began to scream, El Romero made for the clean air outside, closing the door of the ranch house behind him.

  He spoke with Moreno, the one he’d posted to keep guard. The woman’s screams could still be heard. He moved further away until the noise of her suffering was cancelled by the sounds of the desert.

  When Moreno came to fetch him, there was no sound coming from inside even though the door was now open.

  As El Romero came back in, he could see she was unconscious. Her head was sagged forward on her chest yet the blood released from her mouth could still be seen. A darkening, spreading stain was visible on the front of her linen jacket. Ramirez had been working on her teeth with a pair of silver-plated pliers he kept for just this type of work.

  El Romero inspected the pliers. Between the jaws he found a bloody tooth. “You go too far, Philipo. She will not talk like this.”

  He lifted her head to check she was still breathing.

  “Bring her round. Let me speak to her again.”

  Chapter 57

  Wolfgang Heller was bemused. What could a professional like him do if he was hampered by inferior hardware? For this is what had allowed the targets to escape. Once the highway had cleared for them, the BMW could not keep up no matter how hard he pushed it.

  And now Ranzini from the Questura had made matters worse by giving Heller false information. “Herr Heller. They are stationary. Perhaps they are trying to hide.”

  When Heller went to the location just outside Fasano given him by Ranzini, the target was not there. It was a barren stretch of highway. He called back to complain. “Why would this happen?”

  “I should explain, Herr Heller. The signal is strong and stationary. They should be there.”

  “What does the tracker comprise?”

  “A special phone. It is reliable.”

  “Unless they have discarded the phone.”

  The tracker was no longer working. It would be difficult to find them now.

  It was the problem of the Blake target again. Somehow he’d been informed or had guessed that the phone was being used to track him.

  There was no need to be concerned. The future was his, nothing was more certain than this. Blake and his kind were the insignificant barriers that fate placed in Heller’s way, more to test his determination, to sharpen his will, than to stop him.

  Chapter 58

  When Dillon Ashley heard the screams, he knew he had to decide.

  If the Mexicans killed Debbie Miller, wasn’t that what Craven wanted all along?

  But there would be consequences.

  It would be known that Ashley was down here. Craven would come up with some believable lie but that wouldn’t help Ashley. He would be left out in the open, with questions he couldn’t answer about why he’d followed Miller.

  Something else. The same feelings he’d had in the bar at the hotel were resurfacing. A fellow agent was in trouble. He couldn’t stand by.

  This was something he hadn’t suspected of himself. Because for all the years of dissatisfaction he’d endured while he did the dirty work so others could get rich, he’d never thought he would feel this. Loyalty. Something he’d given up on once and for all. Stronger than the lure of the money Craven offered. Stronger than the thought that one day he might become as rich and powerful as Craven himself.

  He surveyed the ranch house. There were three of them, maybe more. He was alone. There was no one to call. If he went in, there was a good chance they’d cut him down and there would be two dead agents rather than one.

  He had to believe. Believe he would prevail. He was a professional. He’d been trained to kill. They were amateurs, no matter how many they might have killed, they were no match. It was only this belief that made possible what he was about to do.

  Go in and go in hard.

  He checked the Uzi, making sure of the mechanism.

  They’d left a guard on the entrance. He would have to be dealt with in a way that wouldn’t alert those inside. Otherwise this would be a hostage situation at best.

  A broken-down stone wall ran along one side of the property. If Ashley could get close enough without being seen, under cover of the wall, he would be within touching distance of the guard.

  He crawled along the far side of the stone wall, stopping every few yards to listen. All that could be heard were Miller’s screams. He felt guilty that the sound of her pain was cover for his approach. He was closing in on the position he’d been aiming for – a gap in the wall where the stonework had failed and had not been repaired. From here he would strike at the guard. He was just about to risk peering through the gap in the wall to sight his man when the farmhouse door opened.

  One of the Mexicans came out and walked tow
ards the guard. They spoke for a short time, something in Spanish about the noise being made by the woman inside. The Mexican who’d come out moved further away and stood staring at the desert.

  Ashley cursed his luck. If he made a move against the guard he’d be seen by the Mexican who’d emerged from the farmhouse. Meanwhile Debbie Miller’s screams continued and were getting louder. It was difficult but Ashley knew he had to wait.

  When the screams stopped, the farmhouse door opened once more and the guard signaled that the Mexican who’d emerged earlier should go back in.

  The guard remained, turning to watch the farmhouse until the door was closed.

  This was Ashley’s signal to act. He took the guard from behind and broke his neck with a single rotation of the head. He lowered the man’s body to the ground.

  The approach to the farmhouse door would be unobserved now. If he was lucky both those inside would be preoccupied with Miller.

  Full on was the only way of doing this. What he was about to do would be quick and bloody.

  No more thinking now.

  He kicked open the farmhouse door and burst inside. In shock, the two men turned towards him, both reaching for their weapons.

  Miller was slumped unconscious on the far side of the room.

  He had surprise on his side.

  His only concern in this frozen moment was that his fire should not injure Miller.

  He fired two deadly bursts from the Uzi.

  Both men fell before they could reply.

  Chapter 59

  I couldn’t help thinking that Schreiber’s death had been my fault. I should have known the Landos would have an informer in the Questura. Yet I hadn’t been careful. I’d led Heller to Ostuni. He killed a good man. He almost killed Gina and Ferrara.

  I felt the need to know more about Schreiber but was unsure how to raise this with the professor.

  Ferrara told us it would be safe to rejoin the A14 Autostrada near Foggia. Heller was so far behind by now he would not be able to catch up with us. The risk of the police stopping the Giulietta for breaking the speed limit was ever present but Ferrara was certain his box of tricks beneath the dashboard could handle that.

  “You concern yourself too much with speeding, James. Remember, this is Italy.”

  Yet he was concerned about something else. While Gina slept once more in the seat behind us, he confided in me. He was sure the Landos would be given the results of traces made on the license plate of the Giulietta. “They’re going to know where I live, where I work, who I bank with, where I spent my holiday this summer.”

  “No good returning to Padova?”

  “Or the university.”

  “So, tell the police.”

  He took his eyes off the road for moment to give me a disbelieving stare. “James, after your recent experience with the Florence police, I find it hard to believe you would suggest such a thing.”

  We fell silent as the Giulietta sped north.

  I took my chance to return to my feelings about Schreiber. “Nico, tell me about Arndt. What kind of man was he?”

  He was disarmed by the directness of my question. “I can’t get used to talking about him in the past tense.”

  “I’m sorry if I saddened you.”

  “No, you are right to ask. You need to understand more about him and his work. I told you Arndt’s brother died because of his involvement in one of the secret societies.”

  “What kind of society?”

  “He once told me it was something you would think had no right to survive in modern day Germany but he would say little more. They made it look like a hit and run but Arndt knew the truth about his brother’s death. He confided in him a matter of days before he died that he had made a mistake and he wanted out. Arndt told me the killing was no accident. Arndt dedicated his life to righting that wrong.”

  “You’re working with him. You know how far that dedication had taken him?”

  “We have not worked together for long, I am afraid, James. Arndt was a careful man. He did not want to risk revealing anything while the information was incomplete. For him, that would have amounted to giving those who killed his brother a chance to cover their tracks. So, he guarded what he had, from me as with everyone else. He was clear he would reveal it once his investigation was complete. This is something you must understand, James. What I have told you is close to all I can tell you. The real detail of what Arndt discovered may have died with him.”

  “But he was systematic, right? He kept notes?”

  “Yes, I’m sure that is the case.”

  “And where would he have kept them?”

  “He kept an office in his home in Munich. His wife may know if he has anything stored there.”

  We fell silent as the Giulietta raced on.

  A few hours later, we were approaching the Florence exit. Gina was awake. When she saw the green overhead sign for Firenze, she became agitated. “I can’t go back there. They’ll find me and kill me.”

  Ferrara tried to calm her. “It’s OK. We are not going to Florence. Nor to Padova.”

  “Where then?”

  “We continue to Munich.”

  “Over the Alps?”

  “There is a tunnel through the Brenner Pass that leads on to Innsbruck. We can drive straight through. You will enjoy the scenery.”

  Chapter 60

  By the time the Federates arrived, Dillon Ashley had brought Agent Miller round and given her first aid. She was traumatized and still in pain. She would need time to recover but there would be no lasting damage – unless you counted the missing tooth.

  Police Chief Pedro Martinez arrived, a measure of the importance the FDM attached to the report that the condition of El Romero was critical. Martinez had handpicked his team, including the paramedics, and sworn them to silence in the hope that the news of El Romero’s arrival at hospital and the deaths of two of his men could be contained until arrangements for the expected backlash were in place.

  Martinez confided his thoughts to Ashley. “In the fight against drugs here in Tijuana, Senor, news of such events has to be presented in the right way. I trust I can depend on your cooperation.”

  Ashley agreed. “The reason I’m here at this moment is to protect Agent Miller. You manage this however you feel is right. Just allow me to get her out of here.”

  They shook hands in agreement and as a silent farewell.

  On the drive back into Tijuana, Ashley was getting used to the idea that the injuries to Debbie Miller’s mouth were such that she would remain silent for the whole trip but it was not long before she began to address him through swollen lips. “I want to thank you for what you did back there. It took a lot of courage.”

  He was not distracted by the praise. “Like telling Nate Craven you’re taking a holiday in Hawaii and coming down here instead?”

  “You know about that?”

  “I’m on Craven’s team now. He sent me.”

  “What did Nate tell you?”

  “I should make sure he wasn’t misjudging you. Was that him, at the hotel?”

  “Who?”

  “Miles Blake, the guy you came here to meet.”

  “So, what if it was Miles Blake?”

  “Wanted by the Agency as a threat to State security. Why would you have anything to do with a guy like him?”

  “Since you’re so thick with Craven, I might ask you the same?”

  “I thought you were on Nate’s team?”

  “I am. You know that. But I’m with the Agency. We’re both with the Agency.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning what did Nate promise you? A slice of the action?”

  He didn’t deny it. “So, if that’s the case, what’s to stop me reporting back to base and getting you busted out of here?”

  “That’s just what I want you to do. Play the whole thing with Nate as we agree and I’ll make sure the drugs thing doesn’t come back to bite you.”

  He looked concerned. “You know
about that?”

  Debbie Miller knew it was a risk, yet there was no other way but to trust her instincts. She could have waited and watched yet this man had risked his life for her. That had to mean something. “You can come out of this as a hero or spend a long time in jail. It’s a simple choice.”

  “And to be the hero I have to deceive Nate Craven. Tell me why I should do that?”

  “Because what he’s offering is nowhere near enough. Not when the truth comes out about the drugs shipments. And the fact you have a real problem.”

  “What’s that?”

  “How do you tell Nate you’ve just shot up the guy Craven is paid good money to protect? That’s not going to earn you any kind of bonus, is it?”

  She paused to consider how much more she should tell him. She knew she would have to avoid mentioning Town Lake in case Ashley decided to report everything back to Craven. The longer Craven thought this was about drugs and not about Town Lake the better.

  She changed the subject. “Anyway, you must have doubts about Craven, otherwise you wouldn’t have saved me.”

  “You wouldn’t use that against me.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “What is it you want?”

  “I need you to do what Nate asked. Tell him you have me and you’re bringing me back to Washington. If he asks what I was doing here, tell him what you want him to know.”

  “That you’re on to the drugs connection. And nothing about the rescue?”

  She nodded. “Just right.”

  Day 5

  September 6th

  Chapter 61

  I was concerned Ferrara had been driving for too long. It was gone midnight. We’d been over five hours on the Autostrada getting from Ostuni to the outskirts of Bologna. The journey to Munich would take another five hours. At first he wouldn’t listen. “I have driven further and for longer than this.”

  I tried to convince him. “But not under such stress.”

  “If it helps, we can call in at the next Autogrill. I’ll be fine with a twenty minute break.”