Dangerous Liaisons (22 page)

Jesse and Cole strolled along the sidewalk outside the Office of International Affairs’ twelve-story, steel and glass high-rise in Langley, Virginia. Jesse regarded Cole’s disguise with a critical eye. Despite his extra two inches, the dark-skin latex mask, black eyebrows, and cream-colored suit accented with white shirt and brown tie, made him look enough like Perez to fool even her from a distance. He had exchanged the chestnut dye in his hair for a deep brown, and had even bound his broken index and middle fingers together with flesh colored medical tape. The brown eyes threw her more than anything, though. She’d gotten used to the blue that always made her feel like she could fall into them.

She returned her attention to the street as they crossed Ivy Lane between the OIA building and staff parking garage. She hoped Lanton wasn’t late. Her tight jeans and two-inch, backless Prada heels, worn to aid the elusion he was closer to Perez’s six-foot height, were uncomfortable as hell.

Jesse glanced at her watch. Eight-thirty. She pressed the ear bud. “We’re at the garage.”

“Roger,” Tom radioed back. “Take a right. He uses the north entrance between eight thirty-five and eight-fifty, statistically within three standard deviations. The mean is eight forty-three.”

Jesse laughed. Once a nerd, always a nerd. The woman who snagged Tom was going to be one lucky statistic. She touched Cole’s arm and headed right as she replied, “Roger. We’ll let you know once he’s inside.”

“Out,” Tom said, and ended the transmission.

She and Cole strolled the last forty feet to the parking garage ramp and stopped near a thin Elm tree. He pulled a box of Colombian cigarettes from his jacket pocket and lit a cigarette with a nonchalance befitting a high-powered drug lord. Mid-puff, Cole nodded almost imperceptibly at something down the street.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted Lanton’s silver Mercedes turn onto Ivy. “Show time. Hold your position until he’s halfway through the turn onto the ramp. Can’t have him spook and keep going.”

Cole drew on the cigarette. “He’s glanced at us, but doesn’t seem to have made the connection.”

Jesse remained motionless, staring at Cole. She blinked. He wasn’t inhaling the cigarette. The purr, hum, some other sound word of the Mercedes drew closer. She held her breath while the car passed behind her, then reappeared in the right edge of her peripheral vision.  Lanton braked and made a slow turn onto the ramp.

Cole grasped her arm, easing her around to face Lanton. Halfway into his turn, Lanton’s attention jerked onto them. His eyes widened. He yanked the wheel as if to turn toward them, then immediately turned back in the direction he was headed.

Adrenaline pumped Jesse’s heart faster as Lanton stared in open-mouthed horror while Cole pointed his cigarette at him, then dropped it. Lanton’s gaze followed the cigarette’s fall until the butt bounced once on the concrete. He swung his eyes back to Cole’s face. Cole fashioned his hand into a gun, his thumb cocked like a hammer over the firing pin, and pulled the imaginary trigger. Lanton’s head swiveled forward and the car accelerated with a roar down the ramp and into the garage.

Jesse waited until he disappeared among the isles, cars and ramps before saying into her mic, “The rabbit is in the hole.”

They hurried up Ivy toward the minivan parked a block over. A minute later, she climbed into the driver’s seat and Cole dove into the back. Latex snapped free of his face in unison with the purr of the minivan’s engine as she turned the key. Jesse glanced in the rearview mirror to see Cole toss the mask aside while shimmying out of his slacks. She caught a glimpse of muscled legs as she pulled out of the parking space and onto Nash.

Next to Interstate 76, two blocks from the parking garage, she pulled to a stop behind Tom’s surveillance van, disguised as a Verizon Wireless repair truck. She cut the engine. A second later, Cole scooted up behind her.

He clamped a hand on her shoulder. “I’m off.”

Jesse nodded at his image in the rearview mirror. “Good luck.”

She wondered if she should kiss him—if he would kiss her—but he slid the door open and stepped out. She watched in the passenger mirror as he started down the street toward home base. They had planned in great detail.  So, why did she feel as if her world had just ended? She couldn’t let him go. She grasped the door handle and pulled back the lever before remembering Amanda—and their mother.

Jesse slumped back in the seat. After their father died, their mother wasted no time in putting Amanda in a home. No retarded girl was going to prevent her from finding a man. Her mother had put herself before Amanda. If Jesse stopped Cole, she would be doing the same thing. She glanced in the passenger side mirror. Cole was gone.

She exited the minivan. Traffic along I-76 zoomed past as she headed for the rear double doors of the surveillance truck. Jesse pulled the key from her pocket, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. She slid into the nearest of two swivel chairs positioned along the centerline of the van.

Equipment covered both sidewalls, from floor to ceiling, leaving only enough room in the middle to swivel from right to left. Radio receivers, tape recorders, high tech surveillance equipment blinked little lights and hummed small cooling fans. Keyboards and mice cluttered a desk-high narrow counter. Various storage and other faceless, button-less electrical gear filled the racks under the shelf. A nickel-sized homing transmitter sat in a charging cradle on the counter. Jesse snapped the transmitter free and slipped it into a jeans pocket.

She had half an hour to plant the homer on Lanton’s car and get back. Then she’d set up electronics gear while she waited, deaf and blind until one of the men phoned in a report.

A knock on the van doors jarred Jesse from thought.

“It’s Cole,” came the familiar Texas drawl.

Her heart leapt and she told herself to get some perspective. This wasn’t the homecoming dance, and Cole wasn’t going to make her his queen. She glanced at her watch as she rose. Twenty after eleven. He had been gone for two hours and forty minutes and hadn’t contacted her. She opened the left door and he slipped inside

“So far so good,” he said, seating himself in the aft chair.

His eyes were bright with excitement and anticipation tightened her belly.

Jesse sidestepped the back swivel chair and slipped into the forward seat. “How did it go?”

“Pretty much as expected. He made me explain how I found you in the alley, lost you, then located you in Colombia. I told him how we found Perez through Menendez. That caught his attention. He was interested in your Colombian connection.” Cole raised a brow.

A tingle prickled the back of her neck. Did he think she would admit a connection with Michael?

“I stuck to the truth up till the part about you killing Perez,” Cole went on. “He didn’t say a word when I said you didn’t turn on me.”

Jesse nodded. “Just like we wanted.”

“Right. He’s a cool cookie. Didn’t let on he’d seen you or Perez.”

“You don’t think he found it coincidental that Perez shows up the same day you do?”

“If he did, he didn’t give away his thoughts. At this point, though, his focus is on Perez. Perez scares him.” Cole shrugged. “I’m no threat.”

“I am,” she said with satisfaction, “because I’ve done the one thing that gives me real power.”

“Teamed up with Perez,” Cole finished.

She nodded. “What did he think about the fact you saw Perez die, yet here he is in Langley?” she asked.

“I did some fancy talking about why I let you check Perez’s vitals. I told him you dragged me out of there, then skedaddled.”

“He bought it?”

“He bought that I didn’t want to get captured by Perez’s men. He kept the debriefing friendly.”

“Sounds like you and he have teamed up to bring me in.”

“Looks that way,” Cole said with enough derision to surprise her. He further startled her with a wide grin. “Ain’t it great?”

She laughed, finally letting his excitement spark hers. “I suppose it is.”

“It couldn’t have gone better,” Cole said.

“Taking you fully into his confidence would have been better.”

“He may be acting like we’re a team, but he’s not stupid. He won’t chance bringing me that close.”

“Unless we force him to,” she said.

Cole paused. “What do you mean?”

“He might confide in you if he thought you would take out Perez. Especially if you were outraged that I’d faked Perez’s death then teamed up with him.”

Cole thought for a moment. “Maybe.”

“He would figure—worst case scenario—you balk, and he takes care of you quietly.”

Cole stared.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll save you. Just wear a mic next time.”

He blinked, then grinned. “I almost hope he tries it. I’d like to see that.”

She got the feeling he’d reverted to some Cro-Magnon man, who believed he would take care of her. There was a first time for everything.

He turned to the universal cell phone emulator in the rack to his left—a new model that looked more like an expensive home stereo with a keypad than a cell phone.

“Did you set up a cell account?” he asked.

Jesse donned her station’s headphones and switched off the mic. “I registered a new cell phone account under an assumed name. When Lanton has the call traced, it’ll originate two blocks away in the opposite direction. All he’ll know is that you’re close.”

“Let’s see what we can stir up. Ready?”

“Ready.”

Cole donned the headphones and punched Lanton’s number on the keypad. The phone rang four times before the voice mail recorder picked up and a low-grade computerized woman’s voice said, “Please leave a message.”

The tone sounded, and Cole said in Perez’s voice, “Senor, I suggest you answer next time. I do not like to be kept waiting.” Cole cut the connection. “That should make him jump.”

He leaned back in his chair, his sleeves going taut across his arms. Jesse ran a hand down his arm. The muscles coiled under his gray dress shirt. Eat, drink and be merry, she thought. For tomorrow we may die.

“We might have some time to ourselves,” she said.

Cole grinned and leaned closer.

The phone emulator rang. Jesse blinked. Damn. She checked the number on the long, narrow screen. Tom’s number flashed in green.

She hit the connect button. “Yeah.”

“He’s on the move. My God, you should see him.”

Jesse gave Cole a nod and mouthed,
he’s moving
. “Where to?” she asked Tom.

“I have him on surveillance camera leaving his office headed toward the elevator. Hold on, he’s at the elevator.”

A long pause followed. Jesse’s heart pounded.

“He’s getting on the elevator,” Tom said.

“Is he leaving?”

“One second, I’m watching the lobby camera—there he is. I’ll be right there.” The line went dead.

Jesse punched the end button. “You drive.”

Cole ripped off his headphones and rose. He brushed past, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Now we’ll see if he cracks. My bet is, not yet.”

She gave a perfunctory nod as he slid into the driver’s seat then turned the key. The van engine kicked over and settled into an idle.

The radio chortled an incoming transmission. “I’ll be there in two seconds,” Tom said.

Jesse rose and stepped to the back door. She swung open the door as Tom rounded the corner of the van and climbed inside.

He squeezed past her and into the rear seat as she slammed the door. “Let’s roll.”

He spun to face the bank of equipment on the driver’s side. Reaching to the double line of square pushbuttons on the tracing receiver, he punched ON, CurrLoc, Mode3 along the first row. The screen above the buttons snapped on, displaying a city map centered on their current location.

The mechanical clank of Cole engaging the transmission was all the warning Jesse had before the van rolled forward, then stopped. She scrambled into her seat as the van accelerated in a tight U-turn, throwing her sideways against the armrest.

Tom punched the AUTO and TRACK2 buttons on the bottom row by his keyboard. The map on the screen slewed sideways then stopped, centering on the parking garage. A red blip pulsed in the northwest corner of the block—Lanton’s assigned parking spot.

“Okay, the transponder on his car is working,” Tom said. “Good job, Jesse. Cole, not too close. We can track him within a quarter-mile.”

“Roger,” Cole replied.

The dot representing Lanton’s car blinked faster.

“He’s moving.”

The blip moved east on Ivy, then turned south on Regan.

“He’s headed for the freeway,” Jesse said.

Cole whipped the van around, slamming the gearshift into drive.

Jesse stared at the map on the screen. “Where the hell is he going?”

Tom shook his head. “Could be to the bank, his lover…another conspirator.”

Jesse jerked her head in his direction.

Tom frowned. “What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

Cole merged onto the freeway, a few hundred meters behind Lanton’s Mercedes. The blip abruptly veered toward Exit 20.

“He’s getting off. Exit 20A,” Tom said.

“Got it,” Cole replied.

The blip traveled around the cloverleaf and stopped at the crossroad. Cole slowed on the off-ramp.

“Slower,” Tom said. “He’s stopped at the light.”

The blip moved.

“He’s off,” Tom said. “Turning left.”

“Hang on.” Cole accelerated, then braked hard. “Caught by the light.”

“He’s turning,” Tom reported. “What’s to the right?”

Cole leaned forward, looking out the passenger’s window. “Stores, a strip mall, branch-bank, a Hooters.” He accelerated around the turn. “I see him. He’s pulled into Best Buy.”

The blip stopped moving and blinked at a slow rate.

Jesse exchanged a glance with Tom.

“I’m pulling into the parking lot across the street,” Cole said. “Hand me the binoculars.”

Tom pointed under the counter by Jesse’s knees. She found a latched drawer as Cole steered the van right, then left. She found the binoculars along with a third pair of headphones, and two radio headsets. Cole came to a stop and she handed him the binoculars. He trained them out the side window.

“Do you see him?” she demanded.

“There’re TV boxes stacked at the front of the store. I can’t see a thing.”

Ten minutes later, Cole said, “He’s out, and he’s made a purchase.”

“What kind?” Tom asked.

“Can’t tell. It’s in a small bag. He’s in his car. He’s opening the bag…it’s a cell phone, looks like one of those pay-as-you-go ones, and a phone card.”

Anticipation hummed through Jesse. All agents had cell phones and email addresses set up in case of emergency. The fact Lanton was using a prearranged communication meant they had him worried.

“He’s punching in the card code,” Cole said. “He’s making a call.”

Tom spun in his seat to face the cell-phone receiver. Putting on the headphones, he flipped the rig on and punched the DUAL band button, then SCAN.

“Can you get him?” she asked.

“Maybe, if he stays on the air long enough.” Voices murmured from his headphones like buzzing mosquitoes.

Two long minutes passed. Tom listened, finger over the button to stop the scan, as one voice after another in as many conversations tuned in and out.

“He’s ended the call,” Cole reported. “Dialing again.”

“You have him?” Jesse asked Tom.

“No.”

Cole’s cell phone rang. He raised an eyebrow and glanced in the mirror at Jesse. She nodded and he answered.

“Yeah.” He mouthed the word, Caruthers, then said into the phone, “What did he want?” A pause. “Where is she?” A longer pause. “Fine. When he calls again, tell him you lost her.” Another pause. “Just slow-roll him until I call you.” He ended the call. “Lanton called Caruthers and ordered him to pick you up.”

“Is he still on the phone?” Tom asked.

Cole raised the binoculars. “He’s talking again—No. He ended the call,” Cole paused. “He’s dialing again…he’s leaving. Wait, he’s tossed the phone onto the seat.”

Tom took off the headphones. “Damn.”

Jesse leaned back in her chair. “At least we know he called Caruthers.”

The blip exited the parking lot, headed back the way it had come.

“Back to the office?” Jesse said as Cole exited the parking lot.

Tom nodded. “My bet is he’s headed for the incinerator, then a box lunch at the commissary on the way up to his office.”

“If he heads back, Tom and I have to high-tail it back to our offices,” Cole said.

Jesse nodded. Dammit. She wanted to know who else he called. Her money was on Morales.