“To
talk,” he said. “Maybe to kill you too, but let’s not dwell on that. That’ll
depend on our conversation.”
“Great,”
I said. “So what are we talking about?”
“You,”
he said. “See, I didn’t really plan for things to play out this way. I
figured I’d get in, do what I had to, get out.”
“So
why see me at all? Why the lunch date? Why leave the credit
card?”
“I
wanted to check you out, get a feel for where your head is at these days. I
knew you were Bain’s preferred candidate for the Heymann protection job a
week before he brought you in. So you were definitely going to be in the
mix. I wanted to know where you stood on things, where your loyalties were.
And I wanted to see how you reacted when I told you that I could set you up
with a better job.”
“I
bet that was a disappointment.”
“It
was just the first pass,” he said. I could almost hear the shrug in his
voice. “I had some ideas on how to make it a little more inviting on our
second outing.”
“This
one?”
Shuster
laughed. “No. We’ve skipped right to the close. You have one more chance to
make the right decision. Then it’s lights out.” He was silent for a moment.
“As much as I hate to say it, I screwed up. I thought the clerk at the hotel
would take the credit card, stick it in an envelope and put it behind the
desk. That’s the way it usually plays out in those situations. When I went
back to pick it up a couple of hours later, he told me you’d tried to drop
it off, but since I wasn’t a registered guest, he wouldn’t accept it.” He
paused again. “That changed my approach.”
“Why
did you even leave it?” I didn’t really care, but the longer he talked, the
better my chance of coming up with something. Or at the very least, the
longer I kept breathing.
“I
told you then, I had things to do. Didn’t really have time for lunch, but
like I said, I wanted to bait the hook and drop it, see if you’d bite. Then
you didn’t accept my offer of a second beer, which honestly...annoyed me. I
don’t like it when people turn me down when I’m being generous. Since I was
already late, I just left, figured I’d grab the card later. Called and had
it cancelled before I was out of the lobby. How was I gonna know that you’d
end up with it?”
He
chuckled. “And I sure as shit didn’t have any idea that John Brenner himself
would sitting in your office when you came back with it. How’s JJ doing,
anyway?”
“He’s
good,” I said. “I think he’d like to get together with you sometime
soon.”
“No
doubt. He must have pissed his pants when he saw that Champion card. Well,
figuratively, of course. Vamps don’t actually piss. No waste. They use it
all.”
“To
tell you the truth, he didn’t say anything to me about it.”
“Maybe
not, but he was on the horn with Special Collections that night. Trying to
find out who had been issued that particular card. He hit a brick wall, of
course.” He paused. “It’s funny, they know my real name but have no idea who
I am. Without the work name, no file.”
“They’re
very thorough,” I said. “Eventually they’ll find it, even if they have to go
through every file by hand.”
“Sure,
but by then I should be done here. And if Emmett Dalton is blown, no
problem. I’ve got lots of work names.”
“Cute,”
I said. “You come up with the name yourself?”
He
laughed. “Yeah, picked it special for this job. My little joke. I knew when
they eventually figured it out, an old Kansas boy like you would know about
Coffeyville and have a laugh about it.”
“Coffeyville
didn’t turn out real well for the Daltons.”
“Emmett
survived,” he said flatly. “And so will I. The real question is, will
Charlie Welles survive? There’s a way, you know.”
“I’m
all ears.”
“Leave
it be,” he said. “Do whatever you have to do, but don’t keep trying to take
me out of the picture. I’m a dead end for you. No matter how it plays out,
I’m going to do my job. That’s why they sent me. I always do my
job.”
“So
if I leave you alone, you leave me alone?” I smiled. “Why do I find that
hard to swallow?”
“Well,
there’s a little more to it than that, buddy. I hinted at a job offer the
other day. Now I’m not hinting. I got a look at their full security plan
before you got involved. If they had stuck with it, it would have played my
way, my target would be dead, the job would be over and I’d be gone. But you
had to put your two cents in and change it up.” He paused. “It’s not going
to stop me, but it does make me work for it.”
I
was silent for a moment, still trying to keep the clock going, then said,
“You’re kidding, right? You want me to work for you?”
“Not
for me,” he said. “With me. There’s always an opportunity for a man with
your smarts and skills. We used to be a good team. We can be one
again.”
“As
I remember, our teamwork was based on busting up bar fights and dragging
AWOL soldiers back to the stockade. Not hunting and killing
them.”
“True,
but we worked well together. That’s my point. I’ve already talked to my
people about it, even before I got here. They’re open to the idea. With some
assurances, obviously, but I don’t see that as a problem if your head is on
straight.” He paused. “Hell, they’ll even change you if you want. You can
see how the other side lives.”
“I
had that opportunity in an internment camp and turned it down.”
“Fine
with me,” he said. “I don’t want to be a vamp either. But either way, it’s a
good life. Couple of weeks off between jobs. Excellent pay. Sometimes you go
out on a job and you’re just another guy on the team. Don’t have to do
anything but sit around a hotel room or apartment, waiting for the primary
to do the deed so you can all get out of town.”
“I
don’t think Brenner’s team is just sitting around, waiting for him to do the
deed,” I said.
“Not
anymore they’re not,” he said with a laugh. “Look, I really don’t understand
your reluctance to at least consider it. You’re living in a low-rent
apartment with a couple of beers and almost no food in the fridge. You spend
your days following cheating husbands and looking for runaways. And you
don’t have a problem working with vamps. Or for them.”
“The
beer is for guests,” I said. “I don’t drink it myself. And I usually eat
out.”
“Sure,
whatever,” he said. “The other thing, of course, is that if you say no I’m
going to have to blow off your head, which I would really like to avoid. For
old times sake. So what’s the problem, Charlie? I’m offering you a sweet
deal.”
“You’re
right, Shuster,” I said. “It sounds like a sweet deal. But you’re asking for
a lot on very short notice.” I paused. “It’s a tough decision to make with a
fucking spotlight in my eyes and a gun pointed at me.” I paused again. “How
about you turn off the light and we talk about it some more. You can keep
the gun on me, and I’ll keep my hands where you can see them.”
“Sorry,
buddy,” he said. “I hear what you’re saying, but this is what it is. If
you’re interested, we can talk a little more. I’d like to hear how you think
things will play out. If not, I have...”
The
bedroom door flew open and Martinez yelled, “Hey!”
I
was already rolling out of bed, out of the light, when I heard a shot, then
another. Shuster grunted. From the floor, I could just make him out, a
darker blotch against a dark wall. Then he was in motion. Martinez fired
again as he threw himself out the window.
As
I sat up, I saw her coming across the room, past the light, going for the
window. I pushed myself up and tackled her before she got there.
“No,”
I said, my face inches from hers. “You silhouette yourself in that window,
he’ll shoot you dead.”
Martinez
was silent for a moment, then said, “Sir, if you’re going to lay on top of
me, I’d appreciate it if you’d at least put some skivvies on.”
“Sorry,”
I said. “I sleep naked.”
“I’m
aware of that, sir,” she said.
I
pushed myself off her and crawled across the floor to where I’d left my
pants in a ball next to the bed. As I pulled them on, I watched her slide
across the floor to the window and slowly push herself up the wall next to
it. Apparently, unlike me, she preferred to sleep in her
underwear.
“I
don’t see him,” she said, her face close to the edge of the
window.
“He’s
gone by now. He would have lingered for a few seconds to see if you’d give
him a clean shot, but he wasn’t going to hang around waiting.”
“Who
is he?”
“His
name’s Marc Shuster,” I said, “Here to kill Heymann. And me too, if you
hadn’t come in. How did you know?”
“Got
up to pee, sir,” she said, still staring out the window. “When I went past
your door, I heard voices. So I listened for a little bit, just in case you
were talking in your sleep. When I heard somebody else, I figured you might
need help.”
“Good
work,” I said. I went to the closet door and grabbed the jacket hanging from
the knob. My cell phone was in the pocket.
“Just
following your orders, sir. You told me I was supposed to save your life if
it was in danger.”
“Glad
I mentioned that,” I said, pressing the icon on the home screen.
It
rang twice. “Takeda.”
“Welles,”
I said. “Shuster was just here. He went out the window.”
“Do
you or Trooper Martinez require medical assistance?” she asked.
“No,
we’re fine. You might get some people here though.”
“I
am already on my way,” she said, and hung up.
“Takeda’s
enroute,” I said. “You should put some clothes on.”
“Just
a second,” she said, looking around on the floor near the window. “Is it
safe to turn on a light?”
“”Sure,”
I said. “Shuster is gone and I’ve got my pants on.”
I
went to the door and flipped on the ceiling light. She continued to stare at
the floor. “I know I hit him,” she muttered. “I yelled, he fired at me, I
returned fire and hit.”
“I
heard him grunt,” I said. “Where did you aim?”
“Central
body mass,” she said.
“Probably
wearing body armor. You should always try for the head shot.”
“I’ll
remember that the next time I’m saving your life, sir,” she said, still
looking down. “There.”
I
moved next her. She pointed at a spot on the laundry hamper next to the
dresser, where Shuster had apparently been sitting. There was a splotch of
dark red on the cover.
I
squatted down and looked at it, then rubbed off a little with my finger and
examined it more closely. “Probably blood,” I said. “But dried, not
fresh.”
“Was
he already wounded?”
“Either
that or it was a contact transfer. Somebody else’s blood on his clothes.” I
paused. “Now get dressed, trooper.”
“Sir,”
she said, leaving the bedroom.
I
turned off the spotlight on the dresser. It was the kind you could buy at
any hardware store to stick outside and light a flag or a sign. Shuster had
removed the spikes that were usually on the bottom and replaced them with
double-sided tape. He’d planned well.
I
put on a shirt and stuck my pistol in the small of my back. By the time I
got to the front door, Takeda’s black Hummer was pulling up. There were two
Security Force Humvees behind her and they flanked her truck, blocking the
street. Half a dozen trooper piled out and formed a cordon around the steps
up to my apartment.
Takeda
and Brenner climbed out of the Hummer. They came up the steps.
“How
long ago?” Brenner asked.
“He
left maybe a minute and a half before I called,” I said.
“So
six minutes ago,” Takeda said. “Did he exit through the front
door?”
I
shook my head. “Bedroom window. He’s long gone.”
“What
happened,” she asked.
I
gave her the short version as I led them into the apartment and through to
the bedroom. Martinez was standing at the window, looking out. In uniform.
When we came in, she turned and saluted. “Commander.”
“Good
work, sergeant,” Takeda said.
“Sergeant,
sir?”
“Field
promotion,” Takeda replied. “See Captain Bristow about some stripes for your
uniform.”
“That’s
really not necessary, sir,” Martinez said.
“I
wasn’t asking for your opinion, Martinez.”
“You’re
lucky to be alive, Charlie,” Brenner said, his eyes scanning the room. “If
Martinez hadn’t been here, you’d be dead meat.”
“I
know,” I said, glancing across the room. When she saw me looking at her,
Martinez lost the smile. “Shuster knew you, Brenner. Or of you. He called
you JJ.”
“Interesting,”
he said. “That’ll help narrow things down.”
I
glanced at Takeda. “And he’s using the name Emmett Dalton for this
job.”