Another Way to Kill Read online

Page 8


  Hotel security hustled Trent to another room and left him there. He was not allowed to collect personal belongings until the police finished. It appeared quite open and shut, so sorry for the trouble, they said.

  Trouble indeed.

  But at least he had his laptop and documents.

  He grabbed a small bottle of Jim Beam from the room’s mini-fridge and drank down the bourbon in two throws. Gasping, he sat on the bed and stared at the carpet. There was no blood on the carpet, and somehow that surprised him.

  All he’d wanted to do was make a sale, and now a man was dead. Had his own government really sent the thief? The State Department had indeed paid a visit prior to his trip, and they had seemed upset when he told them he wouldn’t cancel the meeting.

  If the U.S. government were trying to sabotage him, it only strengthened his resolve. Who were they to say with whom he could do business? And if the Pentagon had made a deal, all this could have been avoided.

  The thief’s death was on them.

  But the incident showed that the Russians were quite unorthodox. The man who had visited the table had not been Russian. A contractor? Whoever he was, Arkady’s order had been “shoot first.”

  Which meant they wanted to buy. Nobody brought in that kind of muscle just to kick tires.

  Trent let out a breath and kicked off his shoes.

  THE NEXT day Dane and Nina rose early and opened the window to let in the morning air. The sun burned high and highlighted the blue ocean and cloudless sky. The pool was full of kids, sunbathers on either side.

  Dane ordered bacon and eggs for breakfast while Nina showered.

  Whatever had happened in Trent’s room, the hotel had kept it quiet. Dane looked forward to seeing if Arkady and Trent were still at the hotel. He didn’t expect them to hang around long, but research on Nina’s phone showed him where they might go: Trent’s HQ in Corpus Christi, Texas.

  Breakfast arrived; the blonde woman pushed a cart with dishes atop into the room. She helped Dane set the table. When they finished, he asked if she spoke English. Yes, she did. Dane handed her a significant tip and asked why hotel security had been in such a big powwow with the local cops last night.

  The woman hesitated.

  “Is that not enough?” Dane said.

  She looked at the bill and then back at Dane.

  He was, of course, taking a shot in the dark. She might not know anything. But hotel staff all over the world gossiped like mad. She had to know something.

  “An incident, monsieur. A man was shot in a room. They say he was stealing something.”

  Dane thanked her with a bonus and shut the door behind her. He knocked on the bathroom door, shouted, “Breakfast!” and went to the table to dig into the bacon and eggs. Nina came out in her bathrobe with a towel wrapped around her head. She sat and started eating.

  “Well, Blaze has left this world to sit with his fathers,” Dane said.

  “Let’s go to Texas. See what they do next.”

  “Yup.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “This one bothers me. They brought in assassins to help with a business deal. And now everybody’s going to Texas.”

  “Who was Trent’s competition? The one he lost the contract to.”

  “We’ll find out. I’ll get on the computer when we finish.”

  “You mean I’ll help you on the computer when we finish.”

  “I can do some things,” Dane said.

  “Solitaire hardly counts as a computer skill.”

  They ate quietly for a while, Nina’s fork scraping on her teeth as she shoveled down eggs. She said, “Arkady was very good at sabotage and propaganda. He may have designs on the competition, too. And if he’s just going to write Trent a check and call it a day, I’m selling a condo on the moon.”

  “I have a feeling you’re right, but what exactly do they have in mind? That’s what we need to learn and stop.”

  “Think there’s any money in it?”

  “Oh, probably not.” Dane chewed some toast.

  “When we get to the U.S., why don’t you look up the competition and I’ll find a way to get chummy with Trent. Pose as a reporter or something.”

  “You aren’t going to try and seduce him, are you?”

  “No, I don’t like old guys.”

  ARKADY CONTACTED Trent around 10 a.m. and told him to get to Texas ASAP. The Hawk added that he’d be taking his private jet and his flight was leaving at noon.

  Trent talked with hotel security, only to be told that his belongings were still off-limits, as they were part of the crime scene. When he told them he had to leave, they made arrangements to ship his clothes and other items to his home.

  At least he had his laptop, blueprints and pictures.

  Trent booked a late-afternoon flight, which cost almost double since it was last minute. He didn’t care. He wanted to finish the deal with the Russians and get on with his life.

  If that was indeed possible. If his own government was working against him, he might lose his company despite selling to the Russians. After all these years, when he thought he was at the top of his game, he now faced an abyss from which he feared he wouldn’t return.

  ALEXANDER ARKADY unbuckled his seat belt as the private jet reached cruising altitude. He was happy to leave Monaco and very excited for the next phase. The plane’s hostess brought him a mug of coffee, and he asked her to step into the flight cabin while he made a phone call.

  President Putin’s assistant answered on the third ring.

  “I need him,” Arkady said.

  A moment later Putin came on the line.

  “Am I disturbing you, sir?”

  “Perfect time. I’ve been wondering about your progress.”

  “We have a reason to be pleased but also cautious,” Arkady said. He explained his dinner with Trent and the attempted robbery.

  “You seriously think it was the Americans?”

  “The police identified the thief as John Blaze, remember him?”

  “I do.”

  “He may have been working on his own, but I think the coincidence is too much.”

  “How is Trent?”

  “A little shaken but he can be manipulated properly, if I don’t push too hard.”

  “Make sure you apply only necessary pressure, Alexander.”

  “I’d like another assistant for when I send Cavallos to Hess Laboratories. Can you send Ivanovitch?”

  “I will order him personally.”

  “Please tell him to bring his knives.”

  DANE AND NINA’S plane touched down in Texas a little over fourteen hours later. Customs took almost an hour, with their passports and luggage selected for thorough review. Unlike his previous two visits to the United States, this time Dane was traveling under an alias. He would not trip alarms in D.C. or at the FBI or CIA. The customs officer found his passport in complete order and allowed him through. He wasn’t wanted for any crimes in the U.S., but his presence always stirred official interest because the government did not approve and was suspicious of his activities abroad. He’d meddled in CIA business enough to earn the extra attention, but he also had a few allies who understood he looked out for the underdog no matter how many toes he stepped on.

  Nina was traveling under a cover identity as well, since her name would sound the same alarms as Dane’s. They were known to be joined at the hip.

  Presently both were allowed into the U.S. and Dane rented a car, a hot Jaguar F-Type for which he paid a high premium. He certainly wasn’t going to drive about in a standard automobile. In case the action turned heavy, they’d need a fast machine that could take a corner like a train on rails. Your standard rental couldn’t handle that duty. Dane only wished the Jag had a standard-shift transmission instead of the electronic paddle-shift mechanism on the back of the steering wheel.

  The busy city was a shock after the luxurious tranquility of Monaco. They sat in traffic for thirty minutes trying to get to their hotel. When the
y finally checked in, Nina dropped her bags on the bed and flopped onto the mattress.

  “It’s hot in here,” she said.

  Dane went to the corner and turned on the air conditioner. It blew loudly but filled the room with cold air very quickly.

  “Oh, my God, it’s blowing right on me,” Nina said.

  “Are you going to complain all day?”

  “Just you wait.”

  Dane hung up his clothes but everything needed dry cleaning. He made a mental note to take care of that in the morning and told Nina to set out whatever she wanted cleaned, too. The hotel had a guest laundry room for their other clothes.

  No balcony but the window looked out on the city. No smoking, either. Welcome to the U.S. Dane selected a can of Coors from the mini-fridge and slouched in a chair.

  “We need to recon Trent’s place,” he said.

  “Uh-huh.”

  Dane took a drink. Coors wasn’t his preferred beer. He hardly drank beer at all. But it sure tasted good.

  “We can do that tomorrow,” he said. “Tonight I want to go over your idea for getting in touch with Trent.”

  “Sure.”

  “You realize that Hess Laboratories is in Florida, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll have to fly out there for that part of the job.” He drank some more of the Coors.

  “You have to call me every day,” she said.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “I will.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes, darling.”

  “Good.” She rolled off the bed, stretched and began taking off her clothes. “I need a shower,” she said, as her last undergarment hit the floor. She headed for the bathroom. Her dimpled rear end jiggled as she walked. Dane followed the view subtly.

  “Come help me wash my hair,” she said.

  Dane left the beer on the table.

  FOLLOWING THE Jag’s GPS, the top down and the brilliant Texas sun burning down on them, Dane steered along the curving mountain road. Considering the smoothness of the asphalt, it wasn’t well traveled. The lack of bumps didn’t matter. The Jag’s taut suspension created a rough ride. Dane did have to slow for a crossing squirrel now and then.

  The hills were alive with green grass and trees here and there, and as they climbed higher the sprawling valley grew below. Dane finally pulled over when the Trent Defense complex appeared. The back acreage of the campus, its dusty brown contrasting with the green, seemed out of place.

  “Nice place to work,” Nina said. “I bet they have a wonderful cafeteria.”

  “I’m sure Trent provides his employees with nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “But the best, of course. Doesn’t every corporation?”

  “Sometimes I can’t tell if you’re a communist or a fascist.”

  Dane laughed. “I’m just a cynic.”

  He had a right to be, he thought, especially about his homeland. He’d left the CIA and ultimately the U.S. under a cloud he didn’t often talk about, but he remained loyal to allies still loyal to him. Not everybody had the president on speed dial. Dane did. President Peter Cross was one such ally with whom Dane remained close, and was one of the few who knew for certain that the cloud under which he had left was not his fault, a fact that Dane someday planned to make official, once he finally tracked down the people who had tried to kill him by crashing his helicopter. He had some scars to show them.

  So, yeah, Dane was cynical about the U.S. But it was still home no matter what he said.

  Dane opened a pouch containing binoculars and lifted them to his eyes. To access the main building of Trent Defense meant first stopping at a guard post at the front gate. Dane saw that the guard was not armed.

  He scanned the length of the main building, and then the perimeter fence. Security implements were not obvious, but since Trent did defense work for the government, Dane imagined there was an armed force ready to pounce if needed, and that pressure sensors in the ground would announce unauthorized intruders.

  Which made it all the more chilling that Trent was going to escort Arkady onto the property.

  “Let me see,” Nina said.

  Dane passed her the binoculars and gave his impression as she looked.

  “No testing going on today.”

  A welcome breeze rustled the surrounding grass.

  “They’re gonna save that for when the Russians get here.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Dane started the car and executed a slow U-turn, and followed the mountain road to where it intersected with the road leading to the campus. He turned right. The straight two-lane blacktop led to the outer edge of the city, a busy couple of blocks with shops, restaurants and office buildings.

  Dane parked the Jag on the street, and he and Nina walked hand in hand along the sidewalk, passing shop fronts and pedestrians going about their day. They stopped at an outdoor café and ordered lunch. Nina took out her phone and cycled through some photographs, stopping when she came to a picture of Trent’s daughter, Colleen. The image was from a profile article in the city newspaper highlighting the assumed heir to Trent’s empire.

  “Think she’ll be around?” Nina said.

  Dane took the phone and looked at the photo.

  “I figure any employee not eating at Trent’s wonderful cafeteria will come down here for lunch.”

  “You’re mocking me.”

  Dane grinned. “Just a little.”

  The waiter brought their sandwiches and two bottles of cold sparkling water. Dane ordered hot roast beef while Nina selected the house special, a turkey breast with cranberry spread, house mustard and veggies.

  “Maybe you should go to Florida,” he said. “I’ll stay here and seduce the daughter for information.”

  Nina snatched back the phone.

  “Do that and I’ll turn you into a eunuch.”

  Dane ignored Nina’s glare and bit into his sandwich.

  They finished thirty minutes later but remained to watch the street. The lunch rush filled the café and faded an hour later, but they saw no sign of Colleen Trent at the café or any of the surrounding restaurants.

  When they returned to the Jag, Dane said: “Do you think the daughter could help?”

  “I read the profile a few times. She’s entrenched in her father’s work but said she’d like to see them expand into areas other than defense. She’s young enough to be an idealist but still knows where her bread is buttered.”

  “So that’s a yes?”

  “Yes. If we can convince her that Arkady means to do her father harm, which I’m sure of, she’ll help.”

  “How are you sure?”

  “Arkady is a hard-line communist. A dirty-tricks expert. Every dirty job, remember? He has something in mind. We just have to find out what.”

  Dane started the car and drove back to the hotel.

  NINA SAT up on the bed clicking through TV channels while Dane sat on the edge and dialed Todd McConn.

  “Can you come out and play?” he said.

  “Sure.”

  “Fly down to Florida and start prelim work on Hess Laboratories. I’ll join you tomorrow.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “Corpus Christi. We just looked at Trent’s property.” He explained their activities so far.

  “This sounds like a fun one,” McConn said. “I think I’ll pack an extra bag of tricks.”

  “I trust you to handle that.”

  “See you soon, Steve.”

  Dane ended the call.

  “This is ridiculous,” Nina said.

  “What?”

  “Seven hundred channels and there’s nothing to watch.”

  She scooted over to make room for Dane, and he stretched out next to her. He felt the warmth of her body through her clothes.

  They settled on a reality show about a group of people who argued over storage shed auctions. The men were overweight and the women subservient. All acted abo
ut as smart as a box of rocks. Dane could only shake his head at a country that turned such walking disasters into entertainment. His sanity was well preserved by not participating in such useless shenanigans.

  Later they had dinner sent up and turned off the TV.

  Dane went out before room service arrived and purchased two candles. They ate by candlelight and turned in early. Dane planned to pick up the dry cleaning in the morning before leaving for Florida.

  Nine drove him to the airport the next morning and kissed him good-bye. He told her to be careful.

  On the flight, a sudden restlessness overtook Dane and he had a hard time sitting still. He hated to leave her on her own, and not just because she got anxious without him and would drink more than usual. Someday he’d have to talk to her about that. But he also just plain hated being away from her.

  8

  Playing With Trains

  UNLIKE WORK, Trent’s office at home was on the second floor of the house, down the hall from the master bedroom with a smaller bedroom and bath in between.

  The window behind his desk looked out on the large backyard and pool he never used but on which he spent a lot of money on upkeep. Just in case.

  His home office was as bare as his work office. The empty fish tank against one wall was a memorial to a time when he’d tried to dress the place up a little. Instead, he’d killed the fish.

  Colleen knocked on the door.

  The knock snapped him out of a daze. He’d been staring at nothing for a long time as his mind continued to process what had happened in Monaco.

  He gave the notes and papers on his desk an absentminded glance as he told his daughter to enter. Colleen approached the desk, and concern flashed across her face.

  “What’s wrong?” she said.

  “I’m still a little jet-lagged. Hard to concentrate. Why aren’t you at the office?”

  “You haven’t shown up and you won’t answer your phone. Everybody’s asking about you. So here I am.”