Takedown (An Alexandra Poe Thriller) (20 page)

He wished more than ever he could remember what was underneath it.

“I’m sorry about this,” she said. “But I want you to know I don’t regret anything. In fact, I’m hoping we can have dinner tonight.”

“Tell me when and where.”

“We should be done shooting around six. Meet me in the restaurant at seven?”

“I’m expecting a call, and may have some business to take care of at some point, but I’ll be there.”

She opened the door, took hold of his hand, and squeezed it. “I’d kiss you, but I just finished my makeup and I don’t want Atilla the Hun to get upset with me again.”

Favreau chuckled. “At least you got a sense of humor about it. If I were you, I’d brain the guy the minute he’s not looking.” He squeezed back, wanting more than anything to crawl all over her. “See you tonight, baby.”

He pecked her on the cheek and went back to his suite, intending to spend the rest of the morning in bed.

Maybe sleep would help him remember.

When Alex came back into the living room, Cooper said, “If I didn’t know what a scumbag Favreau is, I’d almost feel sorry for him. He’s on the hook bad.”

Deuce nodded. “Just goes to show that if you try hard enough, you can convince anyone of anything.”

But Alex wasn’t so sure Favreau was convinced. She had a hard time reading the man. For all she knew, he was conning
them
, and this spy vs. spy nonsense was starting to grate on her nerves. They weren’t even a full day into this op and she just wanted to smash and grab and be done with it already.

“He told me he’s expecting a phone call.”

Deuce grunted. “Then we’d better stay on him like a fly on rice. We can’t let him get to Valac before you’ve had a chance to switch out the codes.”

“Assuming I ever get access to them.”

“We also have to consider our next move,” Cooper said. “If Favreau goes to Latham’s place to close the deal, Valac won’t be easy to get to.”

Deuce raised his hand like a kid in high school. “I think I might have a way in.”

“How?”

“There’s an access road that leads to the back of the house. That’s where the guards almost caught me.”

“The operative word being ‘guards,’” Alex said. “I don’t think they’re going anywhere.”

“Just hear me out. Before I got close, I was almost run down by a delivery van. I figure a place that size, and him being the king of St. Cajetan and all, there must be a lot of vans coming and going. All we have to do is be in one of them. If we time this right, we’ll be on Valac before he even realizes it.”

“Might work,” Cooper said. “We can check Latham’s charge accounts to see who he regularly takes deliveries from. If we can go in as a known entity, there’s less chance they’ll be paying close attention.”

Alex said, “It would be easier to grab him when he’s out in the open.”

“Sure it would,” Cooper said. “But who knows if we’ll ever get that opportunity? Besides, it would present us with a whole other set of variables to deal with. Unfortunately, we have no choice but to keep this a stealth attack. We can use the photographs Deuce took to get the lay of the land, check out some satellite shots—and blueprints, if we’re lucky.”

“That’s not a lot to work with,” Deuce said.

“No, it’s not. For the most part we’ll be flying blind.”

“It’s like the streets of Baghdad all over again,” Alex said.

“Doesn’t hurt to look at it that way,” Cooper told her.
 

“Yeah, but how many times did we go into the Red Zone wondering if we’d ever come out? And some of us didn’t.”

“So what are you saying? You want to back out?”

She shook her head. “I’m just making an observation. I’ve already compromised too much of my integrity to back out now.”

“What about you, Deuce?”

He shrugged. “Seems like we’re trying to put this op together with duct tape and spit, but considering the complete lack of lead time, what real choice do we have? Besides, as you both know, I need the money. And if it all goes south, I guess they can always give it to my goldfish.”

“Since when do you have a goldfish?” Alex asked.

“I picked one up after we got back from Istanbul. I was feeling a little pissed about the way things went down, and some brainiac on the Web said that fish are soothing for the soul. I named my guy The Dude.”

“And who’s feeding The Dude while you’re in St. Cajetan?”

Deuce’s face fell. “Shit. I didn’t think about that.”

A door flew open and Warlock stepped out of his room. “Cooper, you might want to take a peek at this.”

“What is it?” Cooper asked.

He pointed to his glasses. “I finally got a hit on one of the photos Deuce took and I think you’ll find it illuminating.”

“All right, show us.”

Alex and Deuce followed Cooper into the bedroom, where Warlock’s computer cart was shoved up against the closet doors. The screens showed the interior of Favreau’s suite, the center one featuring Favreau himself, sitting on the edge of his bed. He looked as if he might fall asleep before he had a chance to lie down. Whatever was in that pill had done a number on him.

“So what’ve you got?” Cooper asked.

“Turns out the gray-haired man—the one you saw meeting with Favreau—is no longer with us.”

“You mean he left the island?”

“No,” Warlock said. “He’s dead. Been dead for over ten years, as a matter of fact.”

Deuce snorted. “Have you been smoking something?”

Warlock dismissed him with a wave. “What I’m trying to tell you is that he’s former CIA, reportedly assassinated in Yemen shortly before 9/11.”

Alex’s heart went still.
 

Had she heard him right?

“According to his file,” Warlock continued, “he was in Sana’a on an assignment when two gunmen shot him down in the street. They were never found and no one ever took credit for the kill, because apparently it was all staged.”

“You’re sure about this?” Cooper asked.

“The match is a hundred percent. It’s him, and he’s very much alive.”

Alex couldn’t breathe. Felt the room tilting sideways.

Warlock touched the side of his glasses, and two head shots filled the computer cart’s center screen: one current, the other showing a much younger version of the same curly-haired man.
 

“The photo on the right is from the official records,” he said. “His body, or rather
someone’s
body, was brought back to the States and buried at Arlington with full honors. It took a bit of hacking to pull up his known-associates file, but this is where it gets really wonky.”

“In what way?” Cooper asked.

Warlock looked at Alex. “It seems the first name on that list is a Colonel Francis Edward Poe. And the second one is the colonel’s wife, Mitra Najafi Poe.”

Alex could feel them all looking at her now, but she couldn’t take her gaze off those photographs on the center screen. Because staring back at her was none other than Eric Hopcroft.

Uncle Eric.

The man who had once taken pleasure in showing magic tricks to her and Danny.

The man from her mother’s wedding video.

A
LEX
COULDN
’
T
GET
out of their suite fast enough.

Running toward the elevator, she heard Cooper calling to her, but ignored him and kept moving, her heart pounding so hard against her chest it felt as if it might break her ribs.

She pressed the down button and now Deuce was calling her, too, both men coming her way. She tapped the button again and again until the elevator doors finally slid open and she boarded the empty car.
 

She didn’t remember the doors closing behind her or the ride down. Images of her mother and father and Uncle Eric and that fucking wedding video tumbled though her mind, over and over, and the next thing she knew she was exiting the rear of the hotel, heading toward a beach crowded with gold-plated tourists.

Even outside, she still couldn’t breathe and she needed air.
 

Was desperate for air.

She knew she was having some kind of panic attack, all the thoughts and feelings that had been swirling inside her these past few days now threatening to strangle her.

Eric Hopcroft was alive and he was here, on this island, working for the kind of man she detested, the kind of man who brought nothing but misery to the world, the kind of man she wanted to crush from existence.

Eric Hopcroft had once been her father’s best friend, had attended a wedding Alex had known nothing about—

—So, what did this mean?

What did any of it mean?

Was her
father
working for Reinhard Beck as well?

And what about her mother? How did she fit into all of this?

Her head throbbing, Alex crossed to the dock where she and Deuce had arrived the day before, and looked out at the still water of Latham Cove as she tried to calm herself and catch her breath. She closed her eyes and told herself to take it slow, try not to breathe too quickly or deeply.
 

And then she heard Cooper and Deuce calling her again and she wanted to run, wanted to keep them from seeing her like this. Like her father, she had never been the kind to share her vulnerabilities, her anxieties, even though she knew this sometimes cut her off from the people she cared about.

But she didn’t run. Instead, she opened her eyes and moved up to the wooden rail that bordered this part of the dock and once again looked out at the still water, drawing strength from it, willing herself to be calm as Cooper and Deuce approached her, out of breath and undoubtedly full of questions.

“Alex, are you all right?” Cooper asked. “What’s going on?”

She put out a hand. “Give me your phone.”

“Why?”

“Just give it to me.”

“Is Warlock right?” Deuce asked. “Is this guy Hopcroft a friend of your father’s?”

“Not just my father. Danny and I used to call him Uncle Eric.”

“I
knew
I’d seen him somewhere before,” Deuce said. “He was in that video you were watching on the plane. The guy with the funky hair.”

“What video?” Cooper asked.

“Will somebody give me a goddamn phone?”

Cooper pulled his cell phone from his pocket and handed it to her. She turned away from them and faced the water again, searching through the menu until she found the number she wanted.

“Who are you calling?” he asked.

“Who else?” she said. “McElroy. That son of a bitch is up to something and I want to know what it is.”

“You’d better give me a straight answer, you little twerp, or I’ll fly to DC right now and beat it out of you.”

It had taken McElroy a full ten minutes to come to the phone, his secretary claiming he was in a meeting. But Alex didn’t buy it. He had probably been expecting this call for a while.

“Calm down, Alex, take it easy.”

She had stepped away from Cooper and Deuce, and was now standing at the end of the dock. She exhaled her fury. “I don’t want to take it easy. I
knew
you were up to something. Why do I let you do this to me?”

“Do
what
to you? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She tensed her jaw. “Eric. Hopcroft.”

“Who?”

“Don’t. Just don’t.”

“I swear to God, Alex, I don’t know who that is.”

“Just like you aren’t interested in my father anymore? That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Grabbing Valac and those codes is a sideshow. A bonus. What you’re really after is information about Raven, and you think Hopcroft can give it to you. He’s the real reason I’m here.”

She heard the sound of a computer keyboard. “Look,” McElroy said, “I don’t know what kind of fantasy you’ve built up in your head about me, but give me a sec here and I’ll try to—”

“Don’t pretend you’re only looking him up now. You’ve seen my father’s file how many times? Hopcroft’s name is bound to be right there in his list of known associates.”

“Yeah, you’re right, I see it here. But the reason I don’t remember him is because I never gave any thought to it. He’s of no interest to me. It says here he’s deceased.”

“You know very well he’s alive and here in St. Cajetan.”