Freedom Does Matter (Mercenaries Book 2) (35 page)

The guide led them through the stadium. The blue, padded seats in the Royal Box, the tunnel out to the pitch, the hall of heroes. But Beckie’s interest peaked when, on the level directly above the Bobby Moore Room, the guide showed them the Atrium space, another large meeting room with a view of the pitch. “And,” the guide said, “Sunday, this place will be packed with dignitaries from around the world.”

Beckie gave him a glance. For all that he was trying to show some enthusiasm, the blasé feeling he projected… It must have to do with seeing so many dignitaries and big shots every week.

Walking into the room, however, two things caught her eye: The little group of workers were now moving more of the white trash cans—a glance out to the concourse, those cans were blue. She walked along the wall toward a can and opened it as if to drop something in. While this one had a liner, the frame attached to the lid was different, less bulky, especially along the sides. The guide continued to speak, and Kevin came up and with a touch, led her back to the group.

Out on the stairway, Beckie and Kevin sat while Derek stood before them. “I’m going to stay ‘ere,” he said, “long as you lot can find the Tube and get back to the ‘otel.”

“Yeah,” both of them responded, and Beckie continued, “but why? I thought your buddies were coming?”

“They are, but it’ll be easier to get just me in. I’m goin’ to try and get one of those holders off a bin and bring it out, and I don’t want either of you to get caught up if we’re not so lucky.”

“But…”

“But nothin’. Three’s a lot easier to get clear than five. Specially when only three know their way about.” He knelt down in front of Beckie. “I know what I’m doin’ and you know I do. This is the way to do this. I go alone, or no one goes.”

Beckie turned to Kevin, who, she finally realized, hadn’t said a word in protest. He nodded. “Trust him.”

Beckie sat back until her back hit the step. She looked up at Derek and sighed. “Okay, but damn I’ll be mad if you get dead! Or hurt!” She gave Kevin another look; he stood and offered his hand. She took it and stood before taking Derek’s hand for a final squeeze. “Ian won’t be pleased, either,” she said with a grin. She dropped his hand and began the walk down the long ramp.

Chapter Thirty-One

Day Thirty-two - Kansas City

REVEREND BILLY SAT IN HIS downtown Kansas City office, brooding as the rain washed the windows. A week behind on his bookkeeping, receipts covered his desktop like autumn leaves.

His phone rang. As he wriggled to retrieve it from his pocket, he hoped it was one of the grandkids. He hadn’t spoken to them since Sarah had stomped out. Perhaps it would be Deborah, their mother.

“Aziz,” the screen showed.

He let it ring once more before touching the answer icon.

“Hello.”

“Reverend Billy, hello.” There was a brief pause, but Billy didn’t jump into it. “There is a small… issue.”

Billy sighed. “Hmm. What is this ‘small’ issue?”

“We are almost finished placing the bins at the stadium. We will be ready before the… before we had planned.”

“That’s welcome news, but not what you are calling about.”

“No. Two men and a woman toured the stadium today.”

“That’s not news. They give the tour almost every day.”

“Yes, of course. But the woman and one of the men were looking at the bins in the Bobby Moore Room.”

Billy’s heart did a little unwelcome flutter. “That’s very bad news.” He paused to think. Do I have to do everything myself? He stood and walked to the window, looking out over the muddy Kansas River. “Do you think they had contact with the man we talked about?”

“I doubt it,” al-Aziz said.

“Has he been found? I’ve seen nothing on SkyNews or the BBC.”

“I expect it will be a few more days before he smells enough to attract attention. We’ll be well gone by then.”

“So, we don’t know if they have any reason to investigate?”

“No. They acted as if they were just disposing of trash. But since the bins are critical, I believed I should make you aware.”

“Quite right, thank you.” Billy shook his head in frustration. Something must have bothered him. “Are they still in the stadium?”

“I don’t know. Should we find them?”

Yes, I do have to do it all myself. “Please do, and make sure they don’t spread any misinformation or false details that might compromise our efforts.” Billy took a measured breath. “Will that be possible?”

“Of course. I’ve just the man here. He and I will eliminate the problem. And should it be necessary, in the trash collection business, we have friends all over the city.”

Billy shuddered as he prepared his next words, glad that al-Aziz could not see him. “Remember, Allah will not be glorified if you fail.”

“I know this. We will
not
fail, Reverend Billy.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Day Thirty-two - London

BECKIE AND KEVIN MADE INNOCUOUS small talk on the Underground train back toward Bond Street, aware of the crush of commuters making their way home or out for the evening. They arrived about six, too early to have dinner anywhere but one of the fast-food carry-outs, so they sat and talked with Jean-Luc about the photos Kevin had taken of the trash cans.

One in particular interested Jean-Luc. He pointed to the image of the underside of the lid. “I can’t tell for sure, but here, behind the frame. It looks like there’s something round. But…”

Kevin advanced to the picture of the top; he had zoomed in on the screws holding the frame to the lid, where they came through the outer surface.

“That’s it,” Jean-Luc said, and Beckie thought she also connected the two statements. “The screws have holes in them.”

“Just like spray cans, right?” Beckie glanced at Kevin, who was nodding. “But why would they use those to hold the frame? That doesn’t make any sense.” The flush of pleasure she’d felt when she thought she understood disappeared. She walked to the in-room minibar for a bottle of water. “What are we missing?” She looked at the men again. “Okay, what am
I
missing?”

Kevin smiled. “Maybe nothing. This kind of screw is used for venting, or for filling a container. But the hole looks a little small for that. And look at this…” He scrolled back to the image Jean-Luc had been interested in. “If that’s…” He indicated the place where the surface appeared rounded. “… the side of an aerosol can, whatever’s in it could be shot up through the hole in the screw into the room!”

Beckie came closer to the desk to examine the photo. “So it’s not a bomb we’ve been looking for?”

“I don’t think so. To be honest, I doubted it when I saw the size of it. It’s too small to be more than a distraction.” He leaned against the desk. “Of course, in a crowd, any kind of explosion would cause panic, but I don’t think that’s the effect they’re looking for.”

“So…” Beckie fumbled over the next words, easy as they were to line up in her mind. “So what is in there?”

“That’s the million dollar question,” Kevin said. “We have to see one to answer that.”

Jean-Luc nodded, though the slow motion and his slight frown showed reluctant agreement at best. “Given what’s already happened, we must take extraordinary care.”

“Yeah,” Beckie said. “So it doesn’t kill us!” She drank from her bottle. “We should let Derek know. He might be able to move a little more quickly.”

Kevin was reaching for his phone as she spoke. Before tapping its face, he said, “That’s true. Still…”

“What?”

“I was going to say, just because we think it’s not a bomb doesn’t make it true. But Derek’s smart enough not to make that mistake.”

In a perfectly orchestrated coincidence, Beckie’s stomach growled as Kevin set down his phone; he looked at her and laughed. “Okay, okay. Jean-Luc, you ready to eat? We’ll order something from Room Service.”

Jean-Luc had been looking at the menu, his selection made. With a nod, he handed the leather bound folder to Beckie.

As she studied it, she said, “What about Derek? Have his buddies shown up yet?”

“He said they’re due after… twenty-two. After ten. They should be in and out in less than an hour, so he expects to be back here by midnight. If he’s not…” Kevin shrugged.

“Let’s call Ian… after we eat. Maybe he’ll have an idea about this,” she said, waving toward the display.

“I’ll mail them copies of the photos now, so he and Shen can prepare their guesses,” Kevin said with a grim chuckle.

After Kevin had called in their dinner orders, Beckie went to her room to freshen up, but really to lie back and relieve the ache in her side. When she woke, she decided she must have dozed off, until… Wait, what was that?

She heard Jean-Luc respond to an audible rap on the door to the suite, “
Un moment.
I’m coming.”

She rolled over preparatory to joining the others, until she heard a loud clatter, as if the food cart she expected had been overturned. Noises came too quickly to differentiate until a “Oof-Ow!” followed by a cry of pain, a loud thump and then a groan.

Before the “Ow!” had faded away, Beckie rolled off the side of the bed away from the door wishing she’d left the door to the bathroom closed, or at least blocking the view. Not wanting to get caught, she didn’t slither under the bed; instead, she crawled to the floor length drapes and slipped through the sliding doors to the patio. In the small garden, she eased along the wall to peer through the window into the front room.

Jean-Luc was lying in the middle of the floor; his mouth was bleeding, but not as much as Beckie had feared. Two men in white Room Service uniforms were going through his pockets. As she worried about Jean-Luc, another man shoved Kevin out of the far room; she wanted to cheer as he took the push and rolled with it, over a chair and into the two kneeling men. He managed to grab their heads and slam them together; Beckie could hear the crack through the glass.

Kevin continued to twist himself until he had one of the attackers in front of him. From her vantage point, Beckie could see him searching. There’s a knife, right there. It lay just out of his reach. Beckie almost stepped out to point to it, but realized she’d be in plain view if she did. Better make it count, girl! What did Elena say? Be unexpected. Trust your teammates. She took a deep breath as she glanced in at the unmoving tableaux on the other side of the window. She backed up and was about to dash at the door before she remembered: Kevin’s room also looked out on this garden; he wouldn’t have locked his door after lunch either!

In the cloudy dim before twilight, Beckie moved toward Kevin’s door, keeping back from the windows, hoping no one would notice the motion. Her heart settled back slightly as she reached the door and grabbed the handle. Willing it first to be open and second to be silent, she pulled. It didn’t move!

You stupid… Beckie pushed the handle away from her, opening the door instead of closing it. Silence greeted her as she squeezed through the opening, but she stayed behind the curtains until she reached the wall. A quick examination of the room followed the one she’d made on entry; there was still nothing out of the ordinary. Someone groaned and Kevin began making soft sounds until another voice said, “Shut up, unless you say where the woman is.” The voice sounded closer than Beckie expected; she sidled to the door frame. She cursed the location of the mirror: placed so it wouldn’t reflect through the doorway. She peeked until the back of a shoulder came into view.

Okay. She backed away from the door, then stopped and ran at the man. Head tucked into her chest, arms linked in front of her, she used the point of her shoulder to drive her 102 pounds into the middle of his back. Oh! Fuck, that hurts! While the man fell, she hadn’t disabled him. As he toppled over, he was twisting, trying to find out who was behind him. His hands grabbed for anything he could reach.

She swatted at his hand as he tried to snatch her hair, and then they hit the floor. She did her best to land atop his lungs, and air did “whoosh” from him as they hit, but it was only a moment before the man was rotating his shoulders to be face up.