Stone Cold (9 page)

CHAPTER 22

T
HE NEXT MORNING
, while Reuben and Milton drove to Atlantic City, Harry Finn was also busy. He and two team members were surveying a parcel of land near the United States Capitol. Their uniforms were perfect, their equipment spot-on. Most importantly, they exuded the confident air of people who had every right to be where they were. When two Capitol police officers approached them, Finn calmly pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and showed the pair his official-looking orders.

“I just go where they send me, guys,” he said apologetically. “We won’t be here much longer. It’s the damn visitor center project.”

“You mean that taxpayer hell pit?” one of the cops growled. The project had become D.C.’s version of the Big Dig fiasco in Boston.

Finn nodded. “You know in this town everybody thinks somebody else has jurisdiction. So we have to do the same thing ten times because somebody’s panties got in a wad.”

“Tell me about it,” the other cop said. “Just make it quick.”

“Roger that,” Finn said, turning back to his work.

The surveyor’s apparatus they were using was actually a video camera currently filming two entrances to the Capitol building and detailing the rotation of security guards and other essential elements for a successful penetration later. Ever since a man had broken through the Capitol security perimeter with comparative ease, several high-ranking pols had been livid. They had secretly retained Finn’s company to test whether the “enhanced” security measures put in place were the real fix or not. From what Finn had seen so far, they clearly weren’t.

Back at the office, Finn spent the next two hours “phone freaking.” This was a complex exercise involving phoning one person after another and building on the intelligence with each call to elicit more specific information from each new person called. Finn had used this technique to learn the central location in the United States of the vaccine for a nasty bioterrorism bug by pretending to be a marketing student doing a term paper on commercial distribution techniques. He talked to eight different people, finishing with a vice president of the company that manufactured the vaccine, who unknowingly confirmed the location while answering what he obviously thought was a totally unrelated series of questions.

Today Finn was gathering info on two upcoming projects: the hit on the Capitol and a far more involved crashing of the Pentagon. While it had been unfortunately proved beyond doubt that one could fly a large plane into the headquarters of the U.S. military and damage it, there were far subtler ways of breaching the facility’s security and perhaps doing more harm than the doomed jumbo jet had. Among other possible scenarios, one could booby-trap the military’s command and control system, or sabotage its air filtration system, killing or sickening tens of thousands of key government personnel, or even blow up the building from the inside out.

As Finn went about his work, he kept an eye on the Internet for news of Carter Gray’s death. As expected, the authorities were keeping a tight lid on all of it. There had been no leaks and most stories were confined to telling and retelling the glorious career and public service of the dead man, Carter Robert Gray. Finally, Finn couldn’t take it anymore. He went for a walk.

And then he decided, on impulse, to visit his mother. He would catch a flight that very night, after the kids were in bed. He could see her the next day and be back home that same night. After the navy gig, he had some downtime coming anyway. His was not a nine-to-five occupation. And with several jobs percolating in the prep stage before the field operations would begin, now was actually a good time to go.

He both loved and hated to see his mother. The routine never varied; it couldn’t, actually. Yet since it had all begun with her, Finn had to return to that touchstone from time to time. It wasn’t like he was reporting in, but in a way that’s exactly what he was doing.

He booked the flight online and called Mandy and told her. He left work early, drove his two youngest to swimming and baseball practice respectively, and then picked them up later. After they were asleep he left for the airport, for the short ride to one of the longest days of his life.

CHAPTER 23

S
TONE PUNCHED IN
Annabelle’s phone number. Four rings went by and he assumed she wasn’t going to answer when her voice said, “Hello?”

“Where are you?” he said.

“Oliver, I left a note.”

“The note is bullshit. Where are you?”

“I don’t want you involved in this, so just forget me.”

“I’ve sent Milton and Reuben up to Atlantic City to do a recon on Bagger.”

“You did what?” she screamed into the phone. “Are you insane!”

“Now there’s the Annabelle I’ve come to know and admire.”

“That’s suicide, sending them to Bagger’s turf.”

“They know how to take care of themselves.”

“Oliver, I left town so you
wouldn’t
get involved.”

“Then come back, because we
are
involved.”

“I can’t come back. I won’t come back.”

“Then just answer one question for me.”

“What?” she said warily.

“What did Jerry Bagger do to you to make you rip him off for millions?”

“I ripped him off because that’s what I do. I’m a con.”

“If you keep lying to me I’m going to get really upset.”

“Why do you care?”

“You helped us, now it’s our turn to help you.”

“I helped myself. You guys were just in the way.”

“So be it, but you still need us. And we’re wasting time. If Bagger’s as good as you say he is, you may not have much time left.”

“Thanks for your vote of confidence.”

“I’m just being practical. Where are you?”

“Forget it.”

“Then let me guess. But if I guess correctly you have to tell me where you are. Deal?”

“Whatever makes you happy.”

“I said deal?”

“Fine. Deal.”

“Okay, you’ve taken my advice and you’re trying to pin something on Bagger. And what you’re trying to pin on him is the reason you ripped him off. And that’s where you are right now, at a place where he did something so bad to you or yours that you had to come back at him. And do it damn hard. Am I right?”

Annabelle was dead silent.

He said, “Now, since I won the bet you have to tell me where you are.”

“You didn’t give me a specific location.”

“I didn’t say I’d give you a specific location. In fact, what I told you was far more than just naming a town. But if you want to welch on a bet.”

“I never go back on a bet.”

“Then tell me.”

There was a very long pause. “I’m in Maine.”

“Where in Maine?”

“A little south of Kennebunk on the coast.”

“Is that where it happened?”

Stone waited through another long pause.

“Yes.”

“And what was it that did happen?”

“It’s my business,” she snapped.

“I think I’ve proved that you can trust me.”

“I’m not sure anyone can prove that to me.”

“Okay, have it your way. I’ll head up to Atlantic City and have a go at old Jerry myself.”

“Oliver, you can’t do that. He will kill you. Don’t you understand that?”

“Then my blood will be on your hands,” he said in a joking tone.

“Don’t screw with me. I don’t need this shit right now.”

“Exactly,” Stone said in a tight voice. “You don’t need stupid wisecracks from me; you need a plan to get you out of Bagger’s gunsights. And then you need to execute on that plan.”

“And you think you can do that?”

“I used to do it for a living. And I’m sure Jerry Bagger is one bad SOB, but my old playground wasn’t exactly Disneyland.” There was silence on the phone. Stone thought she had hung up.

“Annabelle?”

“He killed my mother. There, now you know.”

“What’d your mother do to Bagger?”

“Nothing. It was my father, Paddy. He ripped Jerry off for ten thousand bucks and it cost my mother her life.”

“Did he kill your father too?”

“No, somehow my old man slipped away and forgot to tell my mother that homicidal Bagger was coming to town.”

Stone let out a long breath. “That’s a lot of baggage to have to carry around. I’m sorry, Annabelle.”

“I don’t need sympathy, Oliver. I just need a way to take this animal down once and for all, because, to tell the truth, stealing forty million bucks from him didn’t even come close to squaring things with that bastard.”

“Tell me exactly where you are. I can be there tonight.”

“How are you going to get here? Fly?”

“I don’t have the money to fly.”

“I can get you the plane ticket.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t have any ID, and without that I can’t get on an aircraft.”

“I wish you’d told me, I could get you stuff so good the FBI couldn’t spot it as fake, much less TSA grunts.”

“I may take you up on that one day. For now, I’m driving.”

She told him where she was. “You’re sure about this? You can still walk, no questions asked. I’m used to going it alone.”

“No friend of the Camel Club goes it alone. I’ll see you in Maine, Annabelle.”

CHAPTER 24

M
ILTON WAS STANDING
behind some players at a blackjack table watching the action, his gaze roving like a laser beam over the cards coming out of the chute.

Reuben appeared beside him. “How’s it going?”

Milton smiled. “This looks like fun.”

“Well, it’s our job to blend in, so play a few hands. Just don’t lose your shirt. We need gas money to get back home.”

Reuben strolled along, his gaze wandering here and there, looking for anything or anyone that might be useful. After being in combat in Vietnam he had toiled for years with the Defense Intelligence Agency, or DIA, the military equivalent of CIA. Though he’d been out of the game for a long time now, it wasn’t hard to remember how to do it well. And for Reuben, that meant heading to a bar for a drink.

He parked his butt on a stool and ordered a gin and tonic, checked his watch and ran his gaze over the bartender, an attractive middle-aged woman but with the pasty, beaten-down look of someone who’d spent too many years on the casino clock and under casino lights.

“So what action looks good these days?” he asked her as he munched on peanuts and idly sipped his cocktail.

She wiped the bar with a rag and said, “Depends on what you’re looking for.”

“Something besides slots and dice and other things that cost money.”

“Then you came to the wrong place.”

He laughed. “Story of my life. I’m Roy.” He put out a hand.

She shook it. “Angie. Where you from?”

“Someplace a little south of here. You a native?”

“I started life in Minnesota, if you can believe that. Been here long enough I guess I qualify for native status. Once the casinos moved in how many people can say they’re from Atlantic City? I mean, it’s a place you go to, not come from, at least not anymore.”

Reuben raised his glass. “I toast your eloquence.” He stared around at the expensively decorated interior. “Must be some big-ass corporation that owns this place. It makes the Bellagio or Mandalay Bay look cheap.”

Angie shook her head. “No corporation. One man.”

“Get out of here, Angie. I thought all casinos were run by fat-cat companies.”

“Not this one. It’s owned by Jerry Bagger.”

“Bagger? Name sounds familiar.”

“He’s pretty memorable. You meet him once, you don’t forget it.”

“From the way you say it I take it he’s not your basic, loving humanitarian.”

“You don’t build a place like this being a human anything.” She suddenly eyed Reuben with suspicion. “This isn’t some trick, is it? You don’t work for Mr. Bagger, do you? I’m not saying anything against him. He’s a good boss.”

“Angie, relax. I am what I look like, a poor sucker from out of town who blew his wad early at craps and decided to spend his last evening here having some real fun before hitting the road with my tail tucked between my legs.” He looked behind him. “But thanks for the info. I don’t want to run into this guy and say something I shouldn’t. He sounds pretty tough.”

“Not to worry, he’s out of town. Saw him leave with his boys yesterday.”

“Oh, he travels a lot?”

“Not really, even though he has his own jet.”

“Then he’s probably going to Vegas to check out the competition.”

“He was run out of Vegas a long time ago. I actually know where he went, because my best girlfriend is dating Mr. Bagger’s pilot.”

“So where’s the big honcho off to, then?” Reuben said in a bored tone as he swallowed a handful of nuts.

“Washington, D.C.”

Reuben gagged so badly Angie had to pound him on the back.

Recovered, he said, “Damn reflux. It’s closed my throat down to almost nothing.”

“Jeez, you gave me a scare. Never had anyone die on me yet, though.” She looked around and lowered her voice. “Can’t say the same about everybody else in this place.”

Reuben said slowly, “You have somebody kick the bucket here recently?”

“Let’s just say we had a couple top-level employees in the hospital. We were told they had the flu. I got a friend who works over at the hospital they were taken to. Since when does the flu cause cuts and bruises? Tell me that.”

“But they’re still alive.”

“They are, but we had another guy here, a computer whiz type. He disappeared. They said he left to take another job. Well, he didn’t tell his family and he forgot to clean out his apartment.”

“Damn, what could have happened to him?”

Angie eyed Reuben’s big frame appreciatively. “I get off work at nine, Roy. You buy me dinner and I’ll tell you some more. Okay?”

After he left the bar Reuben called Stone on his cell phone and told him about Bagger being in D.C.

“Good work, Reuben,” Stone said. “I’m on my way to see Susan now.”

“I thought you said she was gone.”

“Let’s just say I convinced her to give us another chance. You didn’t find out why Bagger’s in Washington?”

“Figured I’d try and get that out of her tonight. Didn’t want to push too hard. You know what I mean?”

“Absolutely. Keep me informed.”

“And tell Susan I still want a date.”