Black operator complete.., p.8
Black Operator--Complete Box Set (Books 1-6), page 8
She was already shaking her head. “I can’t do that, don’t you understand? I have engagements to attend, and people are relying on me. That’s why I tried to make a deal, so I could attend them without people getting killed.”
He shot her an icy glance. “Forget the engagements. If we go back, you won’t live long enough to keep them.”
“But, I must go through with it, no matter what the consequences. Perhaps I can make another deal.”
He lost it then. “Are you crazy? Listen, Maria, so far, too many innocent people have died, including at least two cops back there.” He was shouting, and he couldn’t hold back. “This is more than your engagements, more than your pride. It’s a matter of survival. Yours, mine, and every innocent bystander who may get in the way of a bullet if you carry on.”
After several seconds, he heard her whisper. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“No.”
“How can I try to make things right?”
“Only one way. We go to the safe house and get some rest. Then we can decide what to do.”
“What are our options?”
“To kill him. There’s nothing else. It’s him or us, period.”
“But, how will you find him?”
“I won’t. He’ll find us.”
Her eyes flared with understanding and more than a trace of fear. She nodded and lay back in the seat. He drove on, and next time he glanced across at her, she was asleep, exhausted after everything she’d been through. He carried on driving, and when the light faded, the headlights automatically came on. A sign announced they were entering the town of Joliet, and he looked for the turn he remembered from long ago that would take them to the safe house. Although he suspected safety was something that would elude them until the shooter was dead. Either that or he’d get to them first.
He slowed down to sixty miles and hour and looked for landmarks he could recall. Looking to the left, the wrong way, he passed a cruiser tucked into the shadows of a mall parking lot.
* * *
He was toying with his smartphone. Trying to work out how to use the photo-editing app he’d downloaded the day before. Five dollars and the damn thing didn’t work, or at least he couldn’t get it to work. He tossed the phone on the passenger seat in disgust, shifting position to ease his aching back. The night would be long and boring, and he’d only been on duty for a couple of hours. Nothing was happening, when he saw headlamps in the distance, and seconds later, a sports car came hurtling along the street.
He held up the speed gun and clocked the speed at sixty in a thirty limit. He reached for the key to start the engine and stopped.
A white Audi R8, isn’t that the car they’re searching for, something about a cop killer? The order was to call it in, follow at a distance, and not try to make an arrest.
He picked up the microphone.
Maybe the night won’t be so long after all.
* * *
He found the street he was looking for, and the safe house was in darkness, meaning it was empty. He didn’t stop but parked the Audi two streets away. She was awake, and they walked toward the house. When they reached the front door, he found the key in the same place as he remembered, hidden beneath a chunk of rock on the edge of the front lawn. He retrieved it, unlocked the door, and they went inside. It smelled damp and musty, as though it hadn’t seen any use in a long time.
She raised her eyebrows. “This is cozy. Is there somewhere we can rest up?”
He grinned. “Of course, it’s a normal house. Well, almost normal. It has bedrooms with beds, like any other house. I’ll show you the way.”
He showed her to the bedroom at the rear, and she looked at the single bed with disdain. “Where will you sleep?”
“I won’t. I intend to watch the street from the front bedroom, but you’ll be safer here if there’s any shooting.”
She frowned. “If that’s where you’ll be, that’s where I’ll be. Knowing that guy is still searching for us, I doubt I could sleep if I was on my own.”
“I’d still prefer you stayed in the back.”
“Forget it.”
She followed him into the front bedroom, and the bed was larger, a more comfortable king size double. He pointed to a door at the rear.
“The bathroom’s in there, if you want to freshen up. I’d stay dressed if I was you. We don’t know when we may have to move fast.”
She met his eyes. “You think he’ll come?”
“I know he’ll come. A guy like that won’t give up. I already told you we have a single option.”
“To kill him,” she said softly.
“To kill him.”
He propped himself inside the large bay window and surveyed the ground outside. A couple of streetlights gave a dim light to the area. The safe house was sufficiently lit for him to see an intruder approaching. He smiled inwardly, why use a word that was almost cozy, compared to the truth. An intruder sounded run of the mill. Something he could deal with, or call the cops. He wasn’t watching for an intruder. He was watching for a killer, and sooner or later, he’d show.
She emerged from the bathroom, and instead of lying on the bed, came to join him.
“You should get some rest. You’ll need to recover some energy for when he comes.”
“What about you? You need rest.”
“I promised to guard you, and I intend to keep that promise. I’ll be fine, so just you lie on the bed and try to relax.”
She didn’t do as he suggested. She tilted her head up, and her lips met his. She put up her hands and held him to her, holding the kiss long enough for him to have no illusions. It wasn’t a thank you peck on the cheek, but a full-blown, passionate joining of a man and woman. Eventually, and not without some regret, he eased her away.
“Maria, don’t think I wasn’t enjoying that, but now is not the time. If I take my eyes off the street, he could take us by surprise. I have to stay on watch.” He grinned. “Although later, when this is over, I’d like to revisit that kiss.”
Her eyes were soft and her expression smoldering. “I’ll take that as a promise, and I assure you I’ll hold you to it.”
“Any time. Now try to get some sleep.”
He continued to survey the outside. There was a chance the shooter could come in from the rear, but he doubted it. First, he’d have to make a recce to find where they were, and check they were still there. He’d appear along the street, sooner or later.
After a few hours, there was no sign of him, and she was restless.
“Cris, I need you, here on the bed with me. Just for a short time, I feel so terrible. All the people who have died because of me, and I was just wishing it was me instead of them. Take away some of this terrible guilt. I’ve been wrong, putting my cause, my politics ahead of people’s lives. I should have died, not them.”
He took a last look at the street, and it was clear. No pedestrians, no cars, and no movement. Not even a neighborhood cat. He walked over to the bed and lay down next to her. They embraced, and she held him to her.
“Don’t leave me, Cris. Please.” He didn’t know how to reply, so he stayed silent. A few minutes later, she murmured, “Tell me about yourself. Are you married, single, or what? Do you have a family at home? Pretty wife, kids attending the local junior school, pet dog or cat, and all the trimmings?”
“There’s nothing. I spent so much time in the DEA, much of it under cover, and a lot more liaising with the FBI HRT, there wasn’t time to form a permanent relationship.”
“There’s no one at all?”
“No one.”
That seemed to satisfy her, and she stopped asking questions. He stayed with her and took her in his arms. He was beyond tired, beyond exhausted, and it was a big mistake. He awoke, and when he checked the time, it was almost 04.00. He’d slept for several hours and cursed his stupidity, jumping to his feet. He started toward the window, wondering what had disturbed him. They’d found them. Not the shooter, not yet, but the cops. Four cars were in the street. Three police cruisers, and an unmarked.
He didn’t breathe a sigh of relief because the law had arrived, knowing what it meant. The man trying to kill Maria was no fool; he'd proved that several times. All he need do was follow the cops, and sooner or later the trail would lead to them.
They’re here, and he can’t be far behind.
Maria was sleeping soundly, her breath soft and even, and he shook awake.
“Get dressed, hurry. The cops are here.”
Her eyes flared open and flashed with fear before she worked out what he meant. “They’ll protect us, surely.”
“They haven’t done well so far, and they’ve lost some of their own. I doubt a few cops would be enough to stop that guy, and if I’m right, the shooter won’t be far behind them. He could even be here now. We have to go, and fast.”
She yawned. “Cris, think about it. This is our chance. If we throw in with the cops, they’ll outnumber him, and they can stop him for good. I don’t want to keep running. I had enough in Russia, trying to stay one jump ahead of the Militia. I say we should give the cops a chance.”
He shook his head. “No way, we may as well put a pistol to our heads and pull the trigger. Besides, don’t forget what you said in the car on the way here. People are getting killed, and if we give ourselves up, those cops are in as much danger as you are.”
“So we keep running?”
“We run, sure, so we can stay alive. But that’s not all we're going to do. From here on in, we’re going to change the way we do things. We've both had more than enough of this guy hunting us down like dogs, so I intend to spin things around. We’re going to find him, and I’m going to kill him.”
“You mean we’re going after him?” She shook her head in despair. “It’ll never be over, will it? He’s hunting us, and now you say you’ll hunt him.”
“It will be over, real soon, but first we need to get away. Get yourself ready. We leave in three minutes. I’ll grab some guns.”
“Guns?”
“This is a DEA safe house, remember. They have a concealed gun cabinet downstairs. If they haven’t changed the combination, I’ll grab some hardware so we’re not totally defenseless.”
He took a last peek out the window and estimated they still had a few minutes. He descended the stairs and found the door to the gun cabinet hidden behind a bookshelf. He swung it open and nodded in satisfaction. Everything was as he remembered, and he helped himself to a Sig Sauer P226, the 9mm handgun preferred by many U.S. Special Forces. Pocketing four spare magazines, he hesitated, thinking about the awesome power of the man he intended to hunt and kill. He took out another weapon, a scattergun, a short barrel, cut down Remington automatic 12 bore. After filling his pockets with cartridges, he went back up the stairs to find her.
She was sitting on the bed, head in hands.
“Maria, we have to go.”
Her head moved up and down. “I just wish…”
“Yeah, me, too.
They slipped out the back way, the same moment the cops knocked the front door.
* * *
Detective Doug Mason stood with his gun drawn, waiting for the door to open. The cop banged on the door, Patrolman Stewart shook his head.
“They are not here, Detective. If I bang any harder, I’ll smash the door down.”
He grunted in frustration. His side hurt like hell, like it was on fire, and when he touched the dressing, his fingers came away wet with blood. He didn’t feel inclined to hang around all night, and he stood back.
“Break the damn thing down. I couldn’t give a shit.” His voice was an angry snarl. “They have to be in there, where else would they go? We followed them to the outskirts of Joliet, and this is the only house in the town that the records show has any connection to Cris Rhodes. It’s a DEA safe house, and given his drug enforcement background, he’ll almost certainly have been here before. Even if he hasn’t, he’d know about it. He’s inside. Break it down now.”
The cop glance at him, shrugged, and took several steps back. He charged the door with his shoulder and bounced off, shouting in pain.
“The damn door looks like it’s reinforced with steel. There’s no way we’ll get through it without a ram.”
He stared at the bunch of cops who were watching. “Any of you guys have a ram in the trunk of your cruiser?”
They looked at each other and shuffled their feet, not wanting to be the instrument of wholesale destruction to Federal property. Finally, a cop looking no more than twenty-years-old nodded. “We do. I’ll go fetch it.”
He raced away, and minutes later came back with the heavy steel ram. Mason nodded to him, and he smashed the steel head into the door. The external woodwork shook, but still it didn’t give, and he began attacking it with furious blows. After almost twenty hits with the ram, the lock finally gave way, and the door flew open. They raced inside, guns drawn, and spread out to search the house.
The rooms numbered no more than six, including the kitchen, and after a quick check, they had to conclude Rhodes and Tereshkova had gone. Of the killer, there was no sign.
Stewart shook his head in dismay. “We got the wrong house, Detective. They’re going to love this back at the precinct.”
Mason shook his head. He’d been sniffing around, scenting the air and examining the telltale dust marks. He checked the bathroom and looked at the covers on the bed.
“This is the right place. We were just too late, is all. Dammit, a few minutes earlier and we’d have had them. Circle around back, and see if there’s any sign of them.”
The two cops he’d detailed were back a few minutes later, and their expressions were eloquent. “Nothing. We looked everywhere, and there’s no sign of them. What next?”
The cops waited for his answer, and he didn’t have one. “I just don’t know. They could be anywhere. We’ll have to go back and wait for them to show up on the APB.”
“You think they’ll turn up?”
He didn’t reply and started walking toward the unmarked. Stewart took the hint, climbed into the driver’s seat, and started the engine. The lighting in the street was poor, and what there was cast deep shadows. Mason favored the pain in his side, which was even worse, like a white-hot iron rod pushing into his kidney. Both cops failed to notice the dark shape break cover in an adjacent house and run to the DEA house.
“Back to Chicago, Detective?”
He glanced at Stewart. “Chicago.”
They were leaving Joliet when he got a call from the helicopter. They’d sighted an Audi R8 driving at twice the speed limit, and a red Dodge Dart following a mile behind. He grinned, despite the pain, and responded to the call.
“That’s our target. He’s driving the Dodge Dart. Don’t lose it, whatever you do. Stewart, we’ve got ‘em.
* * *
It had been too easy. Driving the Dodge Dart, he had the police radio on the passenger seat, listening to the traffic. Driving along the highway to Joliet, he was convinced he’d lost them and considered returning to Chicago. He’d stake out one of the woman’s venues for her forthcoming speeches. That’s when the radio beeped, and a voice spoke in a torrent of static. He adjusted the squelch, and the signal was clearer. He noted the address and keyed it into the satnav. The house was less than five miles away. If he could stay clear of the cops, he could finish the job tonight, and book a flight home the following day.
Even if I can’t stay clear of the cops, I can still finish the job tonight. I’ll just have to take down anyone getting in my way while I kill the target. A few more bodies to bury, why should I care?
The cruisers were parked the side of the road. He drove on and parked the Dodge in the next street after circling the block. He came up on the house from the opposite direction, picking his way through backyards until he was almost at the address. He edged toward a position where he could keep the front of the house in view. The cops smashed down the door with a battering ram. Listening to the frantic search, it soon became obvious they’d lucked out. He thought fast to work out his next move.
Where have they gone? It has to be on foot. It doesn’t seem likely they’ll risk a police chase by using the Audi. They went the back way and are already running.
He went after them, racing across the dark ground and came to a wood. A single path threaded through the trees, so they had to have gone that way.
He broke into a run, eating up the ground, knowing they couldn’t be far away. The wounds he’d taken earlier were causing him trouble, but he put it out of his mind. They were nothing compared to the constant pain and anguish he’d suffered for so long, but not for much longer. He pulled out the big Wildey, feeling the surge of adrenaline brought on by the knowledge he was close. They were on foot, and he was a soldier, doing what he did best. It was just a matter of time.
Chapter Four
They reached the edge of the wood, and Cris stopped to survey the ground ahead. Flat, wide open, and with almost no cover, they'd made a mistake. He put his hand on Maria's arm to make her stop. She stopped, panting for breath.
“What is it, Cris?”
"This is wrong. If he catches us out here, he'll run us down like a hungry leopard." He felt her shiver and hurried on. "Don't worry, I won't let it happen."
"What are we going to do?"
"We’ll circle the block and head back to the Audi. We have to put distance between him and us."
"It won’t stop him. He’ll still come after us, won’t he?"
“He will, but I’m going to play this differently from here on. I'm going somewhere where we can see him coming from a long way away, and more important, he won't see us. As soon as he gets near enough, he goes down."
He started jogging and pulled her along with him. They took a wide circle and came out on the street. Half a mile away they came to the Audi R8. He started the engine and drove away. Minutes later they were leaving Joliet. They followed the signs for Kalamazoo, Grand Rapids, and the Manistee Forest where he pulled into the cover of a thick clump of trees. He waited, watching the road, but there was nothing. He put his head close to her and held her tight to comfort her.
