One Rough Man - Brad Taylor [148]
JENNIFER SAT IN HER PEASANT’S DRESSwith a different colored scarf in place on her head. The scent of vomit still occasionally wafted from her dress like the odor of a dead animal in the attic, the stench floating about with no clear source no matter how hard you walked around sniffing the room. She had done her best to clean the dress but had missed a spot somewhere.
She’d awakened before their alarm went off, the room artificially dark due to the heavy drapes, the corners showing the feeble light of dawn creeping in. Raised on an elbow, gazing at Pike’s slumbering form, she could barely pick out his features. This isn’t fair. Why are we all alone out here? Why can’t we just go home and forget about terrorists and WMD? Let someone else stop him. She had lain in bed feeling a sense of impending doom, as if she had been convicted at trial and today was the day she reported to jail.
That feeling had remained throughout the morning, and persisted still. Sitting in the back of the coffee shop, she jumped when her cell phone rang, spilling her cup of coffee halfway to her mouth. She heard two simple sentences.
“He’s on the move. He’s going slow, so it’ll probably be five minutes before you see him.”
She acknowledged the call and hung up, the sense of dread building in her gut. Four minutes later she saw Carlos down the street, walking at a leisurely pace toward the café. It would take him a couple more minutes to get there, but that would only be more time for Pike inside the hotel. She picked up her phone and dialed, wishing it were still yesterday, not wanting to set things in motion.
OUTSIDE OF BAKR’S HOTEL, one of Lucas’s team members from Norway sat looking at a map, trying to determine if he was in the location dictated by the computer plot of the beacon. He glanced up to get his bearings on the street, looked back at his map, then did a double take when he saw Pike exit a Pajero SUV fifteen feet to his front.
He had pulled into the parking spot five minutes before merely to pinpoint his location, one of several sites being reconnoitered by Mason’s team based on the trail left by Pike’s pager. This was supposed to be just a familiarization day, necking down possible locations and getting a feel for the area. Fumbling with his cell phone, he calmed down enough to dial, ducking to prevent Pike from seeing him.
“Mason? Yeah, I’ve got Pike. He’s fucking right in front of me. The girl’s not with him. He just went into a hotel.”
He paused, listening. “I don’t know if he’s staying here or not, but if you want him, I need to get the team here ASAP. I’m not going to try take him out on my own. I haven’t seen the girl, but let’s face it, he’s the threat. Get rid of him, and she’ll be easy.”
He listened a few more seconds. “Yeah, I get that we can’t track the girl, but this guy’s been pretty damn dangerous from the beginning. You sure you want to attempt a capture?”
Hearing Mason’s reasoning, he relented. “Okay, I can do that. If you get a team here, I should be able to close on him fast enough to prevent him from doing anything.”
He listened a moment.
“If he gives me any trouble, I’ll smoke him right here. If not, he can tell us where to find the girl. I don’t recommend going in after him. We can ambush him when he comes out. Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll both come out.”
I ENTERED THE HOTEL LIKE I BELONGED THERE, carrying the bump key and a small mallet I had purchased the day before. I moved straight to the stairwell, the distance and direction exactly as described by Jennifer. Exiting the third floor, I paused in front of Carlos’s door. I strained my ears, listening for any movement behind it or from the rooms down the hall. Hearing none, I placed the key in the lock. It slid in easily. I moved it forward, feeling the clicks of the pin tumblers