Collision Course (3 page)

Drugs
.
It had to be, at least a good part of it. He’d read enough about cartel
operations to know most of their finances were hidden in money laundering
activities. Bennett owned a controlling interest in some overseas banks. Were
they involved? Could he be laundering money for drug cartels? Or was there more
to it?

The
second document opened a little easier. The more he uncovered, the sicker he
got. He’d just touched the tip of the iceberg and his imagination was running
away with him, but Trey was no dummy. The phone call had opened a real can of
worms for him. The more he discovered, the more he wondered if he should
contact his friend in Homeland Security now. Words like terrorists and treason
danced through his brain.

But I
need definitive proof. I need to get into more of those protected accounts. And
the ones the program isn’t able to open.

He took
one break, watching his room and the parking lot as he fed quarters into the
soft drink machine for a couple of cans of cola. He hoped they’d settle his
stomach as well as a bad case of nerves.

He
worked at the laptop until his eyes were so gritty he had to stop. Still, he
didn’t dare close them and try to sleep. Instead he lay back on the bed and
tried to think what to do next. He’d have to buy a new vehicle out of town
someplace. Better than trying to do it here. The sooner he left, the safer he’d
be. At least for a while. Not that he had to hide from sight every day but he’d
seen enough movies and read enough books to know what needed to be done. And he
held a position as second in command of a worldwide corporation, for god’s
sake. He made plans and executed them every day.

So he’d
make decisions. Make a plan.

He just
needed to follow it and he’d be okay.

Sure,
keep telling yourself that. There’s a little difference between drawing up an
outline to take over a company and being on the run from people who he was sure
would kill him without hesitation.

What a
fucking mess. Who knew answering the damn phone would set him on a collision
course with one of the most powerful men in the world?

He spent
the remainder of the night watching the minute hand on his watch until the time
arrived to leave.

*****

Charles
Bennett pulled his briefcase toward him and tossed the unlit cigar into the
ashtray in the limo. Five years ago, the doctors said he had to stop smoking
but he couldn’t quite give up the taste and aroma of the cigars he loved so
much. Old habits died hard. Besides, the older he got, the more he clung to his
pleasures.

Frank,
the limo driver, opened the door and stood aside for him to exit.

Bennett
heaved his stocky figure out of the vehicle and swallowed a sigh as he
straightened to his full height of five foot ten. A light breeze caught a few
strands of dark brown hair, still thick despite his age, although threads of
silver were now woven into it. Light brown eyes watched the world from a
bulldog face, a face that alarmed people when his anger surfaced. Many had
kidded him it reflected the tenacity he exhibited in everything he did. He made
no pretense of being anything but ugly. Fortunately, the people he did business
with didn’t care what he looked like. As for women, when he wanted one, he paid
for her. He’d long ago accepted the pattern his life had become.

“I shouldn’t
be more than a half hour,” Bennett told his driver.

“Very
good. I’ll be waiting.”

Bennett
took his key cards out, swiped one in the slot by the elevator and punched the
button for his floor. When the doors swooshed open, he headed directly for his
office suite, unlocking the door and entering his private area. All the while
he was in Bahrain and on the flight back, he’d tried to remember if he’d locked
the secure phone away.

He’d
left for this trip in such a fucking hurry. Emergency, he’d been told. Come
now. Had he locked the damn thing away before leaving work the night before? An
unpleasant feeling niggled at him the entire time he was gone. He had to check
before he did anything else, hoping it was safely tucked away and no bad news
awaited him. Too many irons were sizzling in the fire and the trip had taken
longer than expected. He was tired, his digestion upset by the strange foods
he’d forced into it and he had a fatigue headache he couldn’t seem to get rid
of.

Maybe
I’m getting too old for this.

Unfortunately
his “business partners” didn’t consider retirement an option, unless it was the
permanent kind. So he’d continue to play the game, add to his massive fortune
and hope to find a way to ease out of it before too long.

The
first thing he saw was the phone sitting out in plain sight. Fuck! Damn, damn,
damn. How could he have been so careless? He turned it over with hands not
quite steady and entered a code into the special keypad on the bottom. Then he
pressed a tiny button and waited for the built-in recorder to play his
messages, praying there was nothing on it out of the ordinary. His partners
would kill him over something so stupid. The first three messages were
inconsequential, updates on the arms deal he’d arranged the previous week. The
fourth one, however, froze him in place. Not a message but a recorded
conversation. As he listened, a combination of dread and anger surged through
him, wiping away his fatigue with one swoop.

Pressing
the button again, he replayed it. And yet again, having a difficult time,
believing what he heard. Trey Haggerty had answered the phone. He recognized
his voice. And of all the people for him to speak to, Hassan El-Salaki was one
of the worst. What had the Arab been thinking, blurting out information without
verifying the person on the other end?

Because
you assured him no one would ever answer that phone but you.

Shit!

Then he
spotted the report he’d requested sitting on his desk. Left where he’d told
Trey to put it. And probably at the exact moment the phone rang. People
answered calls automatically, right? Without thinking?

He used
the office phone to call down to the guard in the lobby to confirm his
suspicions. There might have been other people working late, but none who had a
key to his office.

“Yes,
Mr. Bennett?”

“Can you
tell me the last person to sign out last night and what time he put down?” he
demanded.

“Mr.
Haggerty,” the guard answered. “At one forty-five.”

Exactly
what I thought.

Damn!

“Thanks,
Henry.”

He sat
down in his chair and closed his eyes, trying to get the gut-wrenching anger
under control. The situation was not just bad, it was disastrous. He had hired
Trey Haggerty for his smarts, his intellect, his excellent instincts. Bennett
wouldn’t let what he’d heard go without asking a lot of questions. He feared
Trey wouldn’t ask
him
about it, but would instead try to dig around on
his own.

How
should he play it?

He could
wait until Trey came to work at his usual time and see if he said anything. If
he could read a difference in the man’s attitude.

Don’t
be stupid. Of course it will be different.

Or he
could call him at home, maybe catch him off guard. No, he wanted to see Trey in
front of him. Wanted to find out if he’d contacted anyone about what he’d
heard. Then Bennett would have to dispose of him, an action that gave him great
sorrow.

Fuck.

As he
sat there trying to determine the best course of action, the private phone rang
again. He picked it up, well aware of who the person was on the other end and
what he’d have to say.

“Talk,”
he said.

“Bennett?”

“It’s
me.” At El-Salaki’s gruff, hostile voice, his hand tightened on the receiver.
“Who did you expect?”

“One can
never tell since a stranger answered your phone earlier. Can you explain how
such a thing happened?”

Bennett
fished a cigar from his drawer, his version of a pacifier, and clamped it
between his teeth. “And perhaps you can explain why you launched into your
diatribe before making certain who you were talking to.”

“Don’t
throw this on me,” the man growled. “You assured me the phone was secure.”

“It is
usually locked away but I have standing orders if it’s out, no one is to touch
it.”

“Apparently
your orders to your staff mean little,” El-Salaki growled. “Now we’ve piqued
someone’s curiosity. Fix it.”

Bennett
sighed. He knew all too well what El-Salaki meant. Eliminate Haggerty. He’d
known it from the moment he heard the recording. His executive VP had stumbled
into something he shouldn’t have and now he had to be removed. Made to
disappear.

“Did you
hear me?” El-Salaki asked. “We are about to close on our biggest deal yet. We
can’t afford to have anyone asking questions.” A pause. “If it’s a problem for
you, I can always take care of the problem myself.”

“No.”
Bennett shouted the word. He didn’t need El-Salaki’s thugs involved in his
business. He lowered his voice. “Thank you, but no. We don’t want a lot of
questions. I’ll handle it.”

“By
tomorrow,” El-Salaki said. “Call me when it’s done.”

Bennett
replaced the receiver and leaned back in his chair. He sat in deep thought for
a long moment, chewing on the unlit cigar. Then he punched another number into
his cell phone. A sleep-fogged voice answered.

“Wake
up, Holland,” Bennett told the man. “I have an assignment for you and Price.”
He rattled off Trey’s address and explained the situation. “Go into the house
quietly, take the man and bring him to me at my home. Call me when you have
him.”

Now to
lay a trail. Something logical. He hadn’t gotten to where he was in life
without developing the ability of misdirection. He hated the thought of eliminating
Trey, a bright young man and a real asset. But in Bennett’s quest for bigger
and better prizes, people had become disposable units. And each time it became
easier.

The last
vice president who’d stumbled into the real purpose of BGE had been “removed” with
a carefully staged auto accident. Haggerty’s “removal” had to be much
different.

He
called down to the guard again. “Henry, when Mr. Haggerty left, did he indicate
where he was headed? Home, perhaps?”

“No,
sir. It seemed to me at that hour he’d be headed there. Is there a problem?”

“No. No
problem. But something important came up, and I need to talk to him. I’ve tried
him at home and on his cell and don’t get an answer on either. I thought he
might have mentioned something to you.”

A white
lie but the guard would never know.

“Not a
word. He did seem somewhat distracted, though. Hope everything’s all right.”

“I’m
sure it is. No doubt he left me a note and I haven’t discovered it yet.”

Next he
went to Trey’s office, booted up his computer and logged into his email. Easy
enough. All the company emails were basically the same except for the first
initial and last name. He sent a quick message to himself.

Charles,

Something
interesting came up while you were gone I thought was too good to pass up.
Remember the South American company we were interested in? I think we can steal
it. I’m going to check it out before someone else gets wind of the opportunity.
Back to you shortly.

TJH

He hit
Send then powered down the computer.
Tomorrow he’d distribute a memo to
the appropriate people, repeating what was in the email. Get the word out so
people wouldn’t wonder about Trey’s absence. Because there was no question the
man would be absent.

Locking
everything up, he rode the elevator down to the garage, climbed in the limo and
told Frank to take him home. Once there, he divested himself of his business
clothes and put on his favorite silk pajamas. Pouring himself two fingers of
bourbon, he sat down in his den to wait. He’d finished half the drink when the
call came in. He looked at his watch. An hour and a half had passed, not half
enough time to accomplish what he wanted.

He ran
everything through his mind, sad that the life of a promising young man would
be cut short. Sick at the thought of it. Disgusted he’d brought himself to a
situation like this. Afraid not to follow through and have everything he’d
built crumble beneath him because of one stupid phone call.

“Boss?”
Leo Holland’s voice sounded defensive.

Not a
good sign.

“Do you
have him?” Bennett asked.

“Uh,
boss, he wasn’t there.”

“What?”
He sat up straight, the drink sloshing over his hand. An unfamiliar feeling ran
through him, tightening his gut. “What do you mean he wasn’t there?”

“Just
what I said. We were careful going into the house. Price disabled his security
system. Everything seems in place. His clothes are still there, but he’s gone,
and so is his car.”

Shit.

What a
fucking mess. The goddamn phone. The complicated electronic security he’d had
installed in his office interfered with mobile phones or he’d have used one
instead. But he insisted the people who had the number use it only in case of
emergency when they couldn’t contact him on a cell. He didn’t consider the
problem with the payment anywhere near that category. El-Salaki had been
impatient as usual, no doubt prompted by Serrano. Maybe they’d tried to reach
him at the exact moment he’d had no reception. Now the hot-tempered Mexican was
demanding information at once.

Still,
Bennett couldn’t blame anyone but himself. He’d just been in such a damn hurry and
had left the office with only thoughts of looming trouble on his mind. The
emergency turned out to be nothing, a waste of his time, and his haste had
caused him to make a huge mistake.