One Rough Man - Brad Taylor [122]
“Me?” He was shocked by the question. “For Christ’s sake, why would I do anything to him? Jennifer, listen to me. Get out of the hotel now. Don’t even bother packing. Get out—go somewhere safe. Do it now. Write this number down”—he read out his cell number—“call me when you’re safe. Let me know where you are.”
It took several more attempts before she took him seriously, testing his patience. “Get out, Jennifer,” he repeated, “every second is dangerous.”
“But Pike—”
“Leave him a note that only you and he would understand. But get out. Now!”
Jennifer’s voice grew cold. “I hear you. I’m leaving. I’ll do as you say, but if you’ve done anything to Pike ... if he’s hurt ... I’m going to fucking destroy you. I don’t know how, but I will.”
LUCAS HAD REGAINED CONTROL OF HIS TEAM, reconsolidating in an empty parking lot eight miles away from the failed hit. He was running his options through his mind when his phone rang.
“Yeah, what do you have?”
Jerry was breathless. “They’re staying at the Embassy Suites in Old Town Alexandria. The girl’s there now but was just told to leave. Pike doesn’t have his cell phone. The girl has it. He doesn’t know she’s been told to leave. I’m sure he’s headed back there, but he only has the Metro. If you hurry, you can get both of them. Worst case, you’ll only get him.”
Lucas grinned, immediately barking out commands. “They’re at the Embassy Suites in Old Town. Mounted team go there immediately. Stake out the lobby and try to find the girl. She’s probably already gone, but it’s worth a shot. You other four head to the King Street Metro station. Pike’s headed back. Pick him up when he gets off the Metro. Once you have him in sight, call the Embassy Suites team. He’ll be headed that way. Close on him and finish the job. We can find the girl later, if necessary.”
RIDING BACK ON THE METRO, my mind was running nonstop, trying to figure out what had just happened. I could come up with only one answer: Dr. Evil did exist and his name was Kurt Hale.
Earlier I had decided that didn’t make sense, because Kurt wouldn’t kill Ethan. I then realized that I didn’t even know if Ethan was dead. All I knew was that Kurt had said so. Now it looked like he had said it to keep my mind occupied on Ethan’s death instead of looking for threats. Every other fact pointed to Kurt.
Only one person knew where I was going, and that was Kurt. In fact, it was Kurt who had set the meeting up. Kurt had said he needed to straighten out some things because of Ethan’s death, but if Kurt really had set this up, then Ethan was alive, and Kurt had used that time to set up his trap instead.
The thought sickened me to my core. The Taskforce was an anchor I had placed my entire trust within. If Kurt could do this, then there was no such thing as good. The world was just a mess of gray. I knew that Kurt wasn’t inherently evil, but nothing else explained what had occurred. It wasn’t a bunch of amateurs who had attacked me, but guys who knew what they were doing. I had to have been under surveillance to trigger the drive-by, surveillance that I had failed to notice because I was conveniently thinking about Ethan’s death and the meeting with Kurt. The shooter in the alley was the final touch. It was clear that the drive-by shooter was simply the sweeper, designed to push me into the alley, and certain death. It was a miracle it hadn’t worked. Had I been five feet closer to the alley, I would have immediately sought it out, looking backward at the drive-by shooter, not forward into the alley.
The more I thought about it, the more I began to build into a rage, feeling the anger grow white-hot. For the first time, wanting it white-hot. Savoring the feeling.
Kurt must have set us up in the Homeland Security database. When that didn’t work, Kurt had used my loyalty to the Taskforce as a weapon to kill me. Kurt must have also turned off the CIA from investigating anything further in Belize. Few people in the U.S. government had the power to do all of