Stolen Vengeance: Slye Temp book 6 (32 page)

Chapter 40

Dingo pulled to the curb a quarter mile from where Valene had to meet Rikker. “Give me time to get into position. You’re twenty minutes early.”

She’d been fidgeting with the cylinder since they left Henri, who’d delivered one pretty damn close to the original cylinder, along with a reproduction scroll Geoffrey had made from shots of the original that Valene had taken with her phone, then emailed.

Not good enough to pass a professional authentication process, but it should work if Rikker wasn’t some damned closet artifact specialist. 

If.

The safest bet was not allowing him to walk away from here with that reproduction.

Valene had sounded impressed when Henri delivered the fake scroll. Dingo studied her as she pulled herself together.  She had her blonde waves covered with straight dark hair past her shoulders, a wig that looked like shit up close but would work in a pinch. She had wrap-around sunglasses to wear over those big brown eyes and bright red lipstick on lips that needed no decoration. She’d covered the ugly bruise on her face with makeup again.

Reaching over, he put his hands on hers. “Let me take it. Smith will not know who I am until I walk up to him.”

“No. I’ll do this. I don’t know how to back you up in this situation. You’re the one with skills, so you do what you have to do and I’ll do what I have to do.” She gave him a tight smile. “I’ve been thinking on the initials.”

He let her shift the conversation. “And?”

“This Smith is looking for a scroll stolen from the Vatican and the pope’s in town so maybe it’s the pope.”

He gave it serious consideration, just as he would any potential lead. “The only letter that works is P. You think the P.G.C. acronym stands for Pope Gets Canned?”

“No, and I’m rethinking the Fontana one, because that’s a stretch. But I started digging on everything related to this scroll when I got the job. Pope Lando is a descendant of Pope Goffredo of Castiglione. He was actually born Goffredo Castiglione and there was some speculation that he’d call himself Pope Celestine the sixth.”

“Papal names make no sense to me. Why would he call himself Celestine?”

“Because that’s what his ancestor had called himself.”

“Oh. So you think P.G.C. is Pope Goffredo of Castiglione?”

“Maybe. That would be a good code name for an assassin. No one would figure it out easily.”

Dingo shook his head. “Why kill him?”

“I don’t know. He’s shaking up the church. Whenever you do that, there’s a domino effect.”

“The only reason that doesn’t fit is there’ve been no death threats. Nothing that would alert the FBI here and the Vatican’s security team haven’t reported any concerns.”

She lifted her shoulders. “Just a thought because he’s in LA right now doing some visits to schools and low income areas.”

“I’ll pass it on.”

He kissed her quickly and held her chin. “Don’t do anything to give Smith a reason to react. Don’t ask questions, nothing. Promise me. Just text me as soon as you walk out.”

Exasperation and nerves came through when she snapped, “I promise.”

He waited for the next group of people walking down the sidewalk and slipped out into the loose throng as Valene climbed into the driver’s seat. Then he moved forward with a purpose. First he texted Nick a message to add the pope to the potential list.

Nick texted right back.
We’ve got two different pieces of intel pointing at our original target, which means the first action was a miss and FEP is back on again.

Nick was saying that they had information indicating Perdido
had
been the target. Dingo texted,
What about PGC?

Still working on it, but we think it’s related to the first P.

This was all about Perdido? Dingo sent back,
Keep me posted.

Roger that.

The urge to go help his team rode Dingo’s shoulders.

He would be a liability if he was caught with them, but that didn’t stop his drive to be there.

Just as soon as he dealt with Rikker, he’d call Sabrina.

Life was too short to leave things on bad terms with the people who mattered to him, especially when those people had deadly occupations.

If today was Dingo’s day to grab a break, he’d get a shot at Rikker before Valene met with him. If Dingo intercepted the bastard first, he could give Rikker a go-to-sleep tap with the butt of his gun. Then he could load the unconscious and secured body into the GTO trunk and deliver him to Sabrina.

If not, Valene had the scroll that Geoffrey had produced. Geoffrey had even added details that would strengthen the case for its authenticity. The final product was a testament to his talent.

From all that Sabrina had learned on Rikker and shared with the team, Dingo saw no reason that Rikker would be able to identify the scroll as fake on his own. But assuming anything about Rikker was dangerous.

Valene had said over and over again that she hadn’t gotten to know Dingo the way she wanted.

The way things were playing out, she never would get to know him, and if that meant she was never under threat again then that had to be okay.

Valene thought Dingo would just be close by to observe. That she’d hand off the scroll and walk away.

If she did know him the way she wanted, she’d realize there was no way Dingo would allow her to hand off the reproduction scroll without some plan to take out Rikker if the meeting went bad. If Rikker realized he’d been played, he wouldn’t just kill Valene. He’d punish her brutally first.

Rikker had to go down for Valene to ever have a chance at a life without someone stalking her.

Chapter 41

Valene walked through the coffee shop carrying a big patchwork purse that matched her bohemian looking, ankle-length cotton skirt and sandals, plus the ridiculous wig that she wouldn’t wear for Halloween. The oversize purse hid two scrolls, the real one in a false bottom. She’d crafted a new inside liner from materials Henri brought when he delivered her fake scroll. As long as Smith hadn’t been trained to recognize parchment three centuries old, he wouldn’t know he wasn’t receiving the real one.

Geoffrey had delivered a damn good reproduction. Even
she’d
given it a double take.

Henri was still angry with her, but he’d lowered his standards to accept the money she’d offered him. She’d have to find a way to face her dad come Monday, when she didn’t have the money to get him into the treatment program.

But even though she could sell the scroll, she wouldn’t. It didn’t belong to her. It belonged to the Vatican and the church’s people.

Hoisting the bag higher on her shoulder, she passed through the door that connected the main coffee shop to a patio wrapping the building on two sides in an L shape. She envied the people sitting outside, just enjoying their Saturday morning. One of these days, she’d have that life, too. She hoped.

The other patrons sitting outside were further down on the long side of the building where the breeze was better.

She found a table near the front corner of the patio close to the door, because Dingo had said to plan a second exit that didn’t include scaling the waist-high wrought iron fence, and to keep her back to a wall.

She would normally have chosen a place closer to the black railing, but she wanted to prove she trusted him and could do what he asked.

An elderly woman in a purple warm-up suit, who looked to be seventy going on ninety, finished drinking her tea two tables over beneath a wide umbrella. She tucked the used teabag into her cup, then gathered up a chunk of newspaper sitting in front of her.

When she looked around, so did Valene.

The closest garbage receptacle outside was at the far end of the patio, and the woman would have to navigate through people sprawled out and visiting.

Shrugging to herself, the lady tottered toward the door to the coffee shop.

Valene jumped up and stepped over to open it for her.

When the woman finally made it there, she smiled. “Thank you dear.”

Her good deed for the day done, Valene sat back down and found the woman’s newspapers piled on her table. Valene rolled her eyes. Nice thought to share the paper, but she didn’t need one more thing to deal with while she was waiting.

She wanted a clean surface so she scooped up the papers and paused. A phone had been left on the table face up.

The screen had a message.

Valene – Do not look around. Do not react or your boyfriend dies. Pick up the phone with the papers and walk inside as if you’re throwing the newspaper away, then walk out the back door of the coffee shop. You have exactly sixty seconds and I will see any attempt if you try to signal someone visually or with your phone.

She couldn’t get air. Her lungs seized up. Her fingers turned icy.

The phone dinged with a new message.
Tick. Tock.

Oh, God. She had to get moving. She lowered the papers and bundled them to her, with the phone inside, all without looking around for Dingo.

Walking took effort. The message had turned her legs to wobbly sticks.

She would have to face Smith alone.

Would he be able to recognize a fake scroll?

Chapter 42

Dingo watched hippie Valene open the door for the old lady, who showed her appreciation by dumping her newspapers on Valene’s table. That wouldn’t fly.

Valene wouldn’t stand for all that crap on the table.

Just as he’d expected, she picked up the stack and stared down. Had she dropped a piece or was she reading an article?

Maybe she was trying to look in character.

She finally bundled it all up and walked inside where she probably had just passed a garbage can.

He gave her thirty seconds then stood up and started texting her as he walked.
Go back outside. Now!

By the time he’d taken four steps he was running from where he’d been waiting twenty yards away on the other side of the street. He shoved the phone in his pocket and leaped over the black railing, drawing shocked looks from patrons on the patio. Dingo didn’t give them a thought, snatching the door open and rushing inside where the atmosphere was calm and sociable.

He hurried to the back and knocked on the ladies room door. It yanked open, exposing a single room with an annoyed middle-aged woman.

“Wrong bathroom, buster.”

Dingo was already running for the back exit that opened into the parking lot behind the coffee shop.

Empty.

He grabbed his hair. “
Nooo!”

His phone buzzed. Valene’s number came up. Thank you, Jesus. Dingo answered, “Hello. Valene? Hello! Talk to me.”

Then he listened. The phone line was still connected but he couldn’t even hear background noise. She had it on mute.

You brilliant, beautiful woman.

Snatching out his phone again, he called Josh. He didn’t give Josh a chance to speak past, “Hello.”

“I need you to track Valene for me. Now.”

“What the fuck is going on?”

“Josh, please man. I’m begging you to help me. Rikker has her.”

Heavy cursing then tapping was going on. “What have you got?”

Dingo gave Josh his location, Valene’s cell phone number and his burner phone as he raced to his GTO that Valene had parked in the rear lot. Dingo was at home hacking and moving around in any direction on computers, but when it came to electronic forensics or tracking, that was Josh’s territory.

Work your magic, mate,
Dingo wished silently.

“Got it. She’s not far ... shit.”

“What?” Dingo had the driver’s door open and reached for the wires to start the car.

“She’s going in the direction of where we have a team inserted into a public event with Perdido.”

“Give me an address.”

“You can’t go. Perdido is with the pope dedicating a newly reclaimed building in Skid Row. That place will be crawling with law enforcement. They’ll have you down and cuffed the minute they see you. And that’s
if
someone doesn’t get trigger happy.”

“Skid Row is the home of Satan’s Garden Club. Rikker is working with them. Give me the fucking address!”

Josh did and Dingo’s heart climbed up his throat.

Her phone’s position was only three buildings away from where he’d pulled Valene out of Navarro’s hands.

He squalled the tires, leaving a trail of blue smoke and asked Josh, “Where’s Sabrina?”

“On site overseeing this operation herself.”

“Don’t tell her I’m coming.”

“I take it that you’re disguised. You can’t go on site without her knowing or you risk getting hit by your own team.”

Dingo wove through people determined to slow him down. “I’m not going to do something that will get me shot.”  He hoped. “After she’s off this op today, tell her I called and I’m sorry for the crap I’ve caused her. I don’t hold her responsible for anything and I understand the stress she’s under from the UK op and her relationship with Gage.”

“Stop talking like you won’t be able to tell her yourself.”

“I will if I can, but I need you to know that.”

“Your ass had better be on time for the damn tux fitting.”

That was Josh’s way of saying Dingo was scaring him and Dingo got it, but he was pretty sure the only fitting he might have coming up would be for a casket. “Stop giving me shit. I’ll be there.”

That mollified Josh who said, “I’m holding you to it. No marriage without you and that’s me saying it, not Trish. Call me when you find Valene. I’m calling Sabrina to let her know that Rikker might be coming and that he might have taken Valene hostage.”

“Thanks, mate.”  Dingo hung up and made the last turn that put him half a mile from the event that had the street blocked off from this side.

He didn’t waste the time to hunt a space closer and just pulled down a side street to park.