Takedown (An Alexandra Poe Thriller) (24 page)

And she thought of good old Uncle Eric, the man who had once shown magic tricks to Allie Cat and Dan the Man. Good old Uncle Eric, who was supposed to be dead but was very much alive and working for one of the most ruthless terrorists the modern world had ever known.

Then she called up her cell phone’s keyboard and wrote:

Consider it done.

“H
ELLO
?”

“M
R
. G
RAY
?”

“I was hoping to hear from you. I assume this line is secure?”

“As always.”

“Can I also assume this means you have good news?”

“Yes,” Gérard said. “She was much easier to convince than I thought she would be. And with any luck, Mr. Hopcroft will soon cease to be a problem for you.”

“Bastard should have stayed dead.”

“He will be soon.”

A pause. “Perhaps I’m not paying you enough.”

“I’m happy to discuss a bonus when the job is done.”
 

“And I’ll be happy to arrange for one. You’re a valuable asset, Thomas.”

“I appreciate that, sir. Just one question.”

“Yes?”

“How did you know about the poem? I know you and Colonel Poe were close at one time, but if you haven’t seen him since he disappeared…”

“The joys of surveillance, my friend. In the days before Frank fled, we were monitoring his home quite extensively. That moment with Alexandra was a particularly private and touching one. Which is why I chose it.”

“Well, it worked like a charm,” Gérard said. “I almost felt sorry for her.”

“Don’t allow yourself to go down that road, son. That was Frank Poe’s downfall. He too often let his heart rule his mind.”

“And Hopcroft?”

“Always a pragmatist. Which is why he’s such a danger to us.”

“
Us
, sir?”

“You’re part of it now, Thomas. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t,” Gérard said. “How did it go with McElroy?”

“The man’s a rube. He supplied his own theory about our request for Alexandra’s involvement and I saw no reason to discount it. That’s the problem with the private sector. They’ll believe anything if there’s a dollar attached.” He paused. “There’s one last thing before we hang up.”

“Yes?” Gérard said.

“When the deed is done, there’s something I want you to do at your first opportunity.”

“And that is?”

“I want you to send a message to my old friend Frank. I want him incapacitated by grief. It took him a very long time to recover from the death of his wife, and I doubt he’ll be able to survive another loss, even if time and distance has separated them.”

A pause. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Yes,” Gray told him. “I want you to kill his loving daughter.”

W
HEN
A
LEX
FINALLY
emerged from her room, doing her best to offer the others no sign of her continued distress, Cooper took her aside and filled her in on the latest phone call from McElroy.

“He says the Hopcroft thing is pure coincidence.”

“He does, does he?”

“That’s what his guy told him. They had no idea Hopcroft was even alive, let alone working for Valac.” He paused. “But I’ve known McElroy long enough to sense he’s holding something back.”

He’d also known
her
long enough, she thought, but he was smart enough not to ask her about it. He hadn’t even asked where she’d gone.
 

“Screw McElroy,” she told him. “Let’s do this.”

“You sure you’re up to it?”

“I’m sure.”

But she wasn’t really, was she? At least not for the part Cooper knew nothing about. She had killed men in Iraq, and done her share of shooting since she’d started working for Stonewell. And she would never hesitate to use a bullet or even her bare hands if she, or those she cared for, were attacked, something she’d proven in Crimea and in Istanbul.

But killing a man in cold blood was a different story. Even if that man deserved to die. And despite the message she had sent to her father, she wasn’t fully committed to the task.

Not yet, at least.

Yes, her mother’s death had hardened her, but not to the extent it seemed to have overtaken Frank Poe. And when the time came, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to do the deed. Maybe that would change when she and Hopcroft were standing face to face, but she couldn’t be sure of anything right now.
 

So why had she sent that message?

“There’s just one problem,” Cooper said. “How are we supposed to proceed if this guy Hopcroft knows you?”

“What did McElroy say?”

“He doesn’t think it’s a concern as long as you don’t bump into him on the street.”

She nodded. “Even then, I’m not sure he’d recognize me. The last time he saw me, I was a scrawny teenager.”

“It still seems a little dodgy. But McElroy wants us to go forward as planned. He thinks if Hopcroft does happen to recognize you, there’s a chance it’ll work in our favor. Get you closer to the lion’s den.”

“I agree with him.”

Cooper’s brows went up and he swiveled his head, looking around the room.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I guess I was expecting the planet to explode, but it looks like we’re okay.”

When Favreau finally came awake, Alex and the rest of the team watched him on the monitors as he sat on the edge of his bed again. After a couple of minutes of barely moving, he jumped to his feet and scrambled into the bathroom.

Warlock jabbed at the keyboard, cutting off the sound a split second too late as Favreau dove for the toilet bowl and started to retch.

They all turned away in disgust.

Deuce said, “Maybe those chemists at Stonewell aren’t as good as they think they are.”

Warlock shrugged. “Or maybe this is his afternoon ritual. Binge and purge.”

When it was safe to look back again, they watched as Favreau spent about five minutes at the sink rinsing and spitting, then went to the phone by his bed, ordered room service, telling them to add the tip to the check and leave his food outside the door.

“Maybe you were right,” Deuce said.

Favreau ate a burger and fries, drank a large Coke, smoked cigarettes, and spent the bulk of the afternoon sprawled on his living room sofa, watching the big-screen TV with occasional glances at his cell phone, which was always close by.

He didn’t get any calls.

As the day wore on, he started to pace, and they could see by his body language that he was getting angry. He hadn’t heard from Valac and it was obvious his patience was nearing its limit. He began checking his phone more frequently now, pacing then checking, pacing then checking…

And he still didn’t get any calls.

Valac was really doing a number on the guy. Showing him, through continued silence, exactly who was in the position of power. Letting Favreau know that he needed Valac more than Valac needed him.

“With any luck at all,” Warlock said, “he’s one of those obsessive-compulsive blokes who has to reassure himself that he still has the merchandise.”

Deuce nodded. “By now he must be wondering if Valac has somehow managed to rip him off. So maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll show us what we missed.”

But apparently Favreau
wasn’t
one of those blokes and they didn’t get lucky. He began to pace with increasing urgency, but made no move to check anything except his cell phone. He didn’t even go near his computer.

As six thirty approached, he glanced at his watch, went into the bathroom, and started stripping off his clothes.

Alex took this as her cue to get ready herself.

Dinner would soon be served.

As Alex headed for her room, Cooper stopped her in her doorway. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”

She nodded, and without realizing what she was doing, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Shane.”

He was as surprised as she was. “For what?”

“For caring. The way I’ve been treating you lately, I don’t deserve it. But it helps to know I can always count on you and Deuce.”

“I’m here whenever you need me. Hell, I’m here even when you don’t.”

“You may not want to be after all is said and done.”

He frowned. “What does that mean?”

She shook her head. “I’m just being melodramatic.”

She left him standing there and went to take a shower.

She couldn’t get used to playing dress-up.

Each dress she tried on managed to reveal a little bit more than the one before it (did Stonewell not understand the subtle approach?), and despite Thomas Gérard’s suggestion that she learn to embrace and utilize her femininity, Alex couldn’t get over feeling awkward and uncomfortable and overexposed.

How did so many women
do
this every day?

When she was done fussing with her makeup and only slightly convinced she didn’t look like a cheap, Bourbon Street whore, she went back into the living room to search for her purse.

Once again, the three men greeted her transformation as if they’d witnessed a miracle, causing her to wonder how bad she looked when she wasn’t on display.

“You guys really need to stop.”

“You have no idea, do you?” Cooper said.

“I’m not an idiot, Shane, but this is hard enough without you three gaping at me every time I put on a dress.”

“Who says we can help ourselves?” He checked his watch. “We’d better get downstairs. It’s almost seven and Favreau’s already on his way.”

“Wait,” she said. “I don’t think slipping him a supercharged roofie is going to work twice in a row.”

Cooper hesitated. “…I have plan for that. A kind of secret weapon.”

“Secret weapon?”

Looking about as uncomfortable as she had ever seen him, he said, “I’ll fill you in on the way down.”

I
T
WAS
AMAZING
how the sight of a beautiful woman could change your mood instantly.

When Alexandra Barnes walked into the cafe and was led by the maitre d’ to his table, Frederic Favreau thought he might have to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. All the anger he’d been harboring toward that son of a bitch Valac seemed to fade further and further into the background with each step she took. Had he really been in this woman’s bed last night?

Damn.

It didn’t matter if all she saw in him was a guy with money who might be able to help her escape those two dipshits she worked for. Hell, she could use him in any way she wanted—tie him up, smack him around, steal every cent he had. He wouldn’t put up much of a fuss. At this point, Ms. Alexandra Barnes was the only thing that made the trip to St. Cajetan worth it.
 

The slinky little dress she wore had an immediate effect on him, and forced him to adjust the napkin in his lap to keep it from being obvious.
 

He waited as the maitre d’ seated her across from him and handed her a menu, then shooed him away and said, “I wish I could order a dozen of you and have one waiting in every city I visit.”

Her brow furrowed. “I assume that’s a compliment?”

“It was supposed to be, yeah. Did I say something wrong?”