Authors: Brad Taylor
A whore? He brought a whore up and Knuckles said nothing?
The covers snapped back, and a boy of about six flipped to the floor, walking to the bathroom with sleep-filled eyes, completely oblivious to the storm of death standing less than four feet from him. A boy the same age as my daughter when she had been murdered.
I waited until he closed the bathroom door, then backed slowly out of the room. I made it to the stairwell before the margin between life and death slammed home. A razor’s edge that made me sick to my stomach, causing me to stop and hold on to the railing for support.
Two more pounds of trigger pull and you would have killed an innocent man.
T
he sun burned my eyes
, even given the dark sunglasses I was wearing. The rays felt like sandpaper against the dryness. I hadn’t gotten much sleep, then had awakened at the crack of dawn to control the surveillance effort for one final try. I handled the radio while Jennifer drove, trailing the surveillance box yet again. For her part, Jennifer was treating me with kid gloves. Unsure of what I would do, and I didn’t blame her.
I had touched the face of the devil, gone further into the abyss than I had ever known, and almost became the personification of evil. Almost became the man in my dreams.
Now, we continued the hunt, but I knew it was futile. I had only one more night before Kurt began asking questions, and there was little chance we’d get lucky with the Jennifer distraction to find Lucas’s room like last time.
Shit. You ended up
not
finding his room.
Knuckles brought me out of my thoughts. “Still eating breakfast at the Burger King. Still got his bags with him.”
Lucas had gone back under the Hauptbahnhof, wandering around doing nothing until a Burger King had opened up, and was now killing time eating a hamburger. In my mind, I half-wondered if he wasn’t going to get on a train this time instead of a new hotel. I almost wished he would. It would make my decision much easier. I wasn’t going to follow him all over Europe.
I decided to pull the trigger anyway, not waiting to see what he did. “Knuckles, go ahead and back off. Let him go.”
Jennifer whipped her head at me, and Knuckles said, “Come again? What was that?”
“Break down the box. Get the boys on the street and let Lucas go.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Because you hit the wrong room last night? You want to quit?”
“We don’t have the right equipment or manpower for this. Winging it isn’t working. We’re all leaving tomorrow anyway, and there’s no way I’m going to crack into an unknown room again without intel. We’ve got no beacons, no tracking of him, no hacking capability, nothing. He can defeat us simply by changing rooms. On top of that, we’ve been conducting a full-up surveillance effort with the same two men. They’re probably burned to a crisp, with Lucas planning some sort of ambush. It’s over.”
“Why don’t I just keep the box until he’s through eating? See what he does? You never know, he might go to the woods all by himself or something.”
“Fucking let him go!”
There was a pause, then a “Roger.” He hung up, and we sat in silence for a few minutes. Jennifer finally broke it.
“I’m sorry I gave you Heather’s license.”
I hadn’t told anyone except her what had happened. I’d simply said that I’d entered, realized it was the wrong room, and left. I didn’t want to relive it. Relive how close I’d come to slaughtering a complete stranger. A man who’d checked into a room, fully expecting to take his son to the zoo or something, only to have his son wake up with his father’s brains all over the sheets.
She saw me lean back into the headrest and said, “Are you okay? I’ve never seen you like you were last night. I thought you were going to attack me. You acted just like…someone else. But I think I’m now more scared of leaving this unfinished. Of opening up your scars and
leaving them bleeding. You sure you want to call it? Not that I’m pushing. If you’re good with it, I’m good with it.”
I spoke softly, feeling the blackness wanting back in control, not happy with my decision. “Jennifer, I almost killed an innocent man last night. In front of his child. I almost became Lucas. I’m not taking that chance again. Heather wouldn’t want it, and I don’t want it. I’ll just have to wait for vengeance. Sooner or later, he’ll cross Taskforce lines again. He’s just not built any other way.”
She put her hand on my arm. “Hey, in the end, you
weren’t
someone else. You’re better than that. You wouldn’t have killed him.” She smiled and patted me. “I think I’ve got you trained just about right. The only man who would have died is Lucas. But I’m glad you’re worried. It means you’re still the Pike I know. Last night I wasn’t so sure.”
I pulled off my sunglasses and looked into her eyes. “I was squeezing the trigger. If his son hadn’t woken up, I would have killed him. I almost did anyway. When I entered, I wanted to pull Lucas’s body apart with my bare hands. The crime-scene photos were in my head like an actual memory. Living and breathing as if I had been there. They were so clear. So…more than a memory. I could even smell the blood. There’s one where Heather and Angie are laying on the floor, beaten almost beyond recognition. Tim in the background gutted. The room painted in red. Angie with her hand on Heather’s leg…”
I stopped, the pictures springing back into my mind, causing a physical pain. I forced them away and continued. “The blackness came, and I almost couldn’t turn it off. Even when I saw the boy. I swear to God, for a split second my brain was computing how best to kill them both…kill someone just for the fuck of it. Bring a little of the pain I had to endure to the world.”
Jennifer heard the words, the implications of what she had done sinking in.
My fault. My fault. Jesus. I’m destroying him.
She felt
her eyes begin to water and quickly wiped them, before he noticed, but it was too late.
“What’re you getting all teary for?”
“Nothing. I’m just sorry about this. Sorry I told you. Let’s go home. Forget about Lucas. It isn’t worth your sanity.”
Before he could answer, his phone vibrated. She only caught one half of the conversation, but it was enough.
“What the hell do you mean he’s back in the Internet café? I told you to back off.” Pike listened for a second, then said, “Don’t give me that shit. Back. The. Fuck. Off. You copy?”
He hung up the phone and said, “Lucas is using the café again. Apparently, Decoy and Brett were stupid enough to break the box down and go get breakfast at the Hauptbahnhof. In view of the Internet café.”
She said nothing, wanting to dial Knuckles and tell him to quit herself. Stop the torture she’d brought on for selfish reasons. Get Pike back to being Pike, away from the loss of his family, her need for vengeance overcome by her concern for Pike’s welfare.
He continued. “Let’s head back to the hotel and check on flights out of here. I’m exhausted, and this isn’t helping my attitude. I want to go home. Forget about this place.”
She said, “Me too. Let’s get a seat in first class. Do nothing but watch movies for the next forty-eight hours. Go to some stupid bar you like. Forget about this whole damn mission.”
He smiled for the first time and said, “Maybe go back to the Blind Tiger. If you can keep from kicking someone’s ass.”
“I could do that. If it would help you with this.”
He stared at the ceiling, saying nothing for a moment. She wondered what she’d said. His next words caused her more pain.
“I was thinking it would help if we had that big talk you keep threatening. About where we stand. You know, last night I didn’t want you to participate for different reasons than Knuckles. I protected him as a friend. Not the same way I think about you.”
She heard the statement and felt immediate loathing mixed with fear. She didn’t want to go there. Not so soon after what had happened to her. The thought of intimacy alone made her physically ill. The mission and vengeance against Lucas had kept her feelings at bay, but Pike’s words scared her. Sickened her. If Pike found out what Lucas had done, he’d leave her for sure. She was now tainted goods. Polluted from the man who had slaughtered Pike’s family. If they talked, she knew she would crush him instead of telling him why—something he didn’t deserve. She felt tears again, hating herself, hating Lucas, hating what he had done, feeling the overpowering need for vengeance spring forth again.
It’s not supposed to work like this. It isn’t fair.
Pike said, “What the hell? Asking you out for a beer causes you to cry?”
Before she could answer, his phone rang.
He said, “You’d better tell me you’re getting plane reservations.”
He hung up without saying another word.
She said, “What?”
“He’s out of the damn café, and they want me to check it out. Jesus. Stick a fork in this operation. It’s over and done.”
J
ennifer dropped me off
at the nearest stairwell to the underground, on Münchener Strasse. I trotted down the stairs, wondering what that conversation had been about. Something was going on with her, and I didn’t know if I wanted to push to find out. Might not like the answer.
Knuckles called and said, “He’s getting on the S-Nine. Headed west. You want us to pull off?”
Jesus.
“What the hell difference does it make what I say? You’ll just ignore me.”
I hung up the phone and entered the café. I went to the box Knuckles had indicated, not wasting time with Internet Explorer. I shoved in the thumb drive and waited on the results.
The first hit was simply an IP address, with nothing showing other than that the computers had talked. The second was the State Department travel site again, only this time two names were highlighted. Both had entered Germany two days ago through Berlin. Now both were headed out on flights to Doha, Qatar, from Frankfurt in six hours.
What the hell is he doing?
I racked my brain trying to find connections. Nothing here indicated anything with the peace process he’d tried so valiantly to “protect,” yet there was no way these two State personnel weren’t involved in it. And the fact that he was even looking told me he was as well.
I brought up the final website and saw a plane reservation. For one Lucas Kane. To Qatar. I flipped to the State page and saw it was the same flight.
I thought about the implications and realized something else.
He’s just entered into the Taskforce crosshairs again. Officially. That fucker is mine.
I shut the computer down, dialing my phone. “Knuckles, get the men back to the hotel. Pull off Lucas now.”
“Yeah, yeah. You sound like a broken record.”
“No, dammit. Get them back before they get any more burned. We’re going to need them. Lucas is going operational.”
Back in the hotel, I contacted the Taskforce through our company VPN. Before talking to Kurt, I needed additional evidence, so I had some analysts do a little research first. While they plugged away, I considered what I was going to say. How I could soften the blow of the team’s location and current activities. I didn’t come up with anything solid, and, after getting my research answers, decided to simply tell the truth.
Kurt was smiling on the screen, but I was fairly sure I would knock that grin off pretty quickly.
“Hey, Pike. Good work the other day. Your usual high-adventure, but the Council was impressed.”
“Great. We’re going to need the love. Where’s Blaine and the support crew right now?”
“The Taskforce bird ‘broke down’ in Shannon, Ireland. I know it’s BS, but let it go. Why?”
Here we go.
“You need to get them to Qatar immediately. Lucas Kane is doing something operational. I don’t know what, but he’s headed there in six hours.”
There goes the grin.
“What the hell are you talking about? How do you know anything about Lucas Kane?”
“I tracked him to Frankfurt. I’m on him now, and he’s flying to Qatar on the same commercial flight as two State Department personnel.”
“You did what? Jesus Christ, Pike! We have no authority for this. No Omega in Europe. What the hell are you doing? Trying to destroy the Taskforce?”
I didn’t reply, letting him get some steam off. He finally said, “Well? You going to tell me why you’ve got a rogue Taskforce team running amok? Give me some incredible reason why you disobeyed direct orders from the president of the United States?”
“Lucas murdered my family. I came here to kill him.”
His mouth opened, then closed without saying anything, so I continued. “Jennifer found Heather’s driver’s license in his room, along with Ethan Meriweather’s. Lucas killed them both. She also found another license. I ran a check on the name through the Taskforce law enforcement section. It was Meredith Madison, the senator’s wife. Remember she was killed in a hit-and-run? Never solved? And Senator Madison retired shortly thereafter? Lucas killed her as well, for God knows who.”
Nothing came from the computer, Kurt’s face stunned. Reflecting on my statements. Eventually, he focused back on me. “Pike, I honestly don’t know what to say.”
“Sir, that’s water under the bridge now. I didn’t kill him, and during the surveillance operation we found evidence that he’s still got designs on the peace process. He’s headed to Qatar, and I need to beat him there. Can you get me a plane?”
“What? Slow down. This is coming a little fast. What do you have?”
I gave him a rundown from start to finish. When I was done, I said, “I need to get to Qatar ahead of him. I’m sending Brett and Decoy on the flight, but I need to prep the terrain, and I need that support package with Blaine.”
“It’s nine hours from Ireland to Dubai. Lucas will be there in
twelve. I don’t have time to get them to you first. I don’t even have Oversight approval to begin.”
“Sir, no offense, but Lucas isn’t going to wait on the Oversight Council to pull their head out of the sand. He’s on the hunt, and someone’s going to pay.”
Kurt said nothing for a moment, coming to grips with the threat. Finally, he nodded and said, “Make sure it’s him.”