The Guardian (25 page)

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Authors: Robbie Cheuvront and Erik Reed

BOOK: The Guardian
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Anna and Jason looked at each other then back at Hale. Neither of them said anything. They just nodded in agreement.

“Okay then,” Hale said. “Let’s go.”

They walked back into the living room and found Christopher Wallace sitting on the sofa.

“So,” Hale began, “now that everyone’s met, let’s let Christopher go ahead and explain everything.” Everyone nodded, and Christopher leaned forward on the sofa.

“Your grandfather hired my firm about fifteen years ago.” He looked at Anna. “We were fairly new then. Actually, it’s quite amusing. We hadn’t been up and running for more than a month when your grandfather hired us. Since then, he has been our only client.”

“Business not as good as you thought?” Anna asked.

“No, young lady, quite the opposite. We decided early on in our endeavor not to take on an enormous clientele. Your grandfather made it easy for us. He paid us six times our normal asking price. His only stipulation was that he be our only client. We agreed, of course, given the offer of money. Since then we have been working for him.”

“And did you travel with him?” This time it was Jason with the question.

“No, sir. We were only on duty when he came to London, which wasn’t that often. He would come and stay for a month or just a few days. It didn’t matter to us. As long as he was here, we were there, watching him.”

“Sounds like a pretty good deal,” Anna said.

“The best I ever had.” Christopher smiled. “And Thomas was the nicest man I’ve ever had the pleasure of working for.”

“Well,” Anna said, “I don’t see any reason to change anything. Do you Hale?”

Hale shook his head. “None at all. As long as you are okay with it.”

“Suits me fine,” Anna replied. “How about you, Jason?” “Makes me feel safer.”

“Good. Then we’re all set.” Anna looked around waiting to see what was next.

Christopher pulled out a manila folder. He opened it and pulled several loose sheets of paper from it and handed them to her. They were pictures of five men and one woman. Each was dressed in a military uniform decorated with ribbons and medals. “This is your team, Anna.”

Anna took the papers and looked at them one by one. She passed each one along to Jason. They both scanned over the pictures and the bios written at the bottom of each page.

“Do you need to know our schedule?” Anna asked.

“No, ma’am. You may come and go as you please. As long as you’re in London, we will be within fifty yards of you at all times. You’ll never know we’re even there. I just wanted you to have these in case, by some ridiculous foul-up on our part, you happen to notice any one of these people following you. But I can assure you, you won’t.”

“How will you know when we’re here in London?” Anna asked. “I mean, do we let you know that we’re coming, or what?”

“Hale will always let me know, since he’s the pilot. He’s always the first to know that you’re coming here.” He reached inside his billfold and offered Anna a business card. “If for some reason you aren’t with Hale, you can reach me by any of those numbers. The one at the top is my cell. I have it on me at all times.” He stood up to leave.

Anna, Jason, and Hale all stood with him. Anna stuck out her hand and said, “Thank you, Mr. Wallace. I hope I never get to see you in action.” She gave a little laugh. “Seriously though, just knowing you’re out there makes me feel safer.”

Wallace shook Anna’s hand. “My pleasure. And please, call me Chris.” He shook Jason’s hand as well and then moved toward the front door. Hale accompanied him and let him out. Once Wallace had left, Hale turned back to Anna and Jason.

“So, what do you think?”

Anna and Jason looked at each other then back at Hale. Anna shrugged her shoulders and said, “I like him.” “Me, too,” said Jason.

“Great!” Hale said. “Then I’ll be on my way. You two kids stay safe, and I’ll see ya soon. Call me if you need anything.”

“Where are you going to be?” Anna asked.

“Well, normally I would be going back home. Thomas never liked us hanging around. He said that we all had lives to live, and he wanted us to ‘get living them,’ as he liked to say. Under the circumstances, I need to get back to the Vatican. I need to debrief the pope. He’s expecting me. I’ll fly out this afternoon. Miles and Marie will stay here in case something comes up. I can be back in two and a half hours if I need to. If it’s an emergency and you need to get out quickly, Wallace has a plane. Push your panic button, and he’ll be at your side in less than thirty seconds. He’ll let us know immediately that you’ve left. We’ll come to where you are and pick you up. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll call in and keep track of you.” “I would like that,” Anna said. “Me, too,” Jason agreed.

“Don’t worry, guys. Chris Wallace and his team are some of the best soldiers this world has ever seen. I feel supremely confident leaving you alone, knowing he’s on your tail.”

“Then so do I,” Anna said. “Go to Rome. Tell the pope we said hi.”

“Thanks, Anna. I will. You two got any immediate plans?”

Jason nodded his head. “Yeah. I found something in one of Thomas’s journals. He had a meeting with some guy named Benjamin today at the Israeli embassy. Do you know him?”

Hale shook his head. “Honestly, guys, yesterday was a weird thing. I’ve never done anything other than fly the plane. We were hired, of course, because we all have military backgrounds. But we’ve never been involved in anything like what happened yesterday. And I can honestly say that I’m glad. That scared the living daylights out of me. I didn’t realize it until this morning, after I’d had time to reflect on it.” He looked embarrassed as he chuckled. “That was the first time I’ve seen any kind of combat in about twenty years.”

“Well, I think you were brilliant.” Anna smiled at him. “You saved my life.”

Hale stood, solemn-faced. “Thank you,” he finally said. “I have to go now. Remember, anything goes wrong, push the little black button. Wallace will be right there.”

Anna walked over and gave Hale a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Jason stuck out his arm and shook Hale’s hand. They watched his car pull away from the curb before walking back inside and shutting the door.

“So what do you think?” Jason asked. “You got your own little panic button and everything.”

Anna looked at him with a grin. “Well, I’m kind of a big deal, you know.”

Jason laughed and gave her a friendly nudge in the shoulder.

“Well, Ms. Big Deal, what next?”

Anna crinkled her nose and tapped her chin. “Well, we both need something nice to wear to the embassy. I say we go shopping.”

CHAPTER 41
Paris

J
onathan knew the risks of using a landline, but he didn’t have much of a choice, since he threw his cell phone against the wall and he couldn’t really get around all that unnoticed. He needed help.

He pushed himself up on the crutches that Edmond had given him and stumbled his way over to the other side of the room. An antique-style phone, complete with rotary dial and separate ear- and mouthpieces, hung on the wall. Remy always was one for antiques. He would’ve preferred a normal, present-day cordless unit. Whatever. A phone was a phone.

He lifted the earpiece and pinched his crutches between his armpits. With his free hand, he dialed the number from memory. The line was picked up after the first ring.

“This is Waukeem,” the deep Jamaican voice said.

“Waukeem, this is Jonathan.”

“Oh hey, boss. How you doin’, mon? I thought you were coming to London, mon.”

“Change of plans. I need you and three others to come to Paris. Bring a laundry basket.” Jonathan knew his man would know what he was talking about. When he hired him, as with all of his employees, he discussed certain talks of code with them. This particular one meant that there was a dead body and a mess to go with it. He needed a cleanup crew.

“Sure thing, mon. I be there in four hours. With basket. Anything else?”

“Yeah. Bring me a new phone. Mine got broken. What’s the girl doing?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Finally, Waukeem spoke. “That’s the thing, mon. I tell Frankie yesterday to tell you. We don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Jonathan could feel his temperature start to rise.

“We haven’t been able to find her, mon. All we know, she is in London. We are working on it. Been at it since we get here early this morning.”

“Well, tell Frankie to light a fire under his rear end. I want to know where she is by tonight. Got it?” “Got it, mon.”

“Leave Frankie and Joey there to track her down. You, Hank, and Nicholas get here as fast as you can. I’ll call you back at”—he looked at his watch—”five o’clock this afternoon. You should be here, in Paris, by then.”

“Got it, mon. See you then.”

Jonathan hung up the phone. He looked around and checked out his surroundings. Nothing here he could do except maybe watch some TV. He had a dead body that was sure to start smelling up the place in the near future. As much as it may hurt, he needed to get out of there. He wasn’t about to sit around and wait for the foul stench of death to attack him. Besides, he wanted to go to the bank. He needed to see for himself that Remy did, indeed, clean him out. He lifted the phone again, dialed the operator, and asked to be connected to a cab company. His French was broken at best, but he was able to get his point across. The dispatcher told him that a cab would be waiting for him within the next ten minutes.

He shuffled himself to the end of the hall. There was a thermostat mounted just before the bedroom door. It was set on seventy-two. He turned the knob counterclockwise and watched as the little arrow on the outside ring settled on forty. It was going to be cold enough to snow when he got back, but at least he wouldn’t be smelling dead Edmond.

He hobbled his way into the bedroom. At one time, he had left a couple of suits here. He wondered if Remy still had them. He checked the closet and found what he was looking for. As quickly as he could, he got out of his clothes and changed into the suit. It was a very painful experience, but he was going to need to look important.

He finished dressing and checked a few drawers, the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, and finally a jewelry box sitting on the bedside table, before he found a spare set of house keys. He maneuvered his way back down the hall and out the door. He was starting to get the hang of the crutches, but the sides of his body, just above the rib cage, were starting to get sore. He knew a couple of bruises were soon to come.

Down the dimly lit hallway and out through the garage door he went. He crossed the street and made his way around the corner. There, parked along the curb, was an old yellow Peugeot with a little white light mounted on the hood. He hobbled over to the car and jumped inside. He told the driver where he needed to go. The driver never said a word, just pulled the gearshift down and punched the gas.

At the bank, Jonathan asked a young female clerk for the bank manager. The young lady returned a minute later, trailed by an older man with silver hair. He wore a three-piece suit, complete with a pocket watch. His spectacles rode low on his cherry-red nose. He had a paper-thin mustache and beady little eyes.

“Can I help you, monsieur?” he asked without interest.

Jonathan didn’t have his key. Remy did. And he picked this particular bank after months of checking it out. They weren’t quick to allow someone without a key to open a safe-deposit box, so this was going to take some creativity on his part. “Yes, you can,” Jonathan said tartly. “First of all, when I come in here, I don’t expect to have to ask a subordinate to see the bank manager. You should have greeted me yourself.” Jonathan watched as the little man stared at him, nonplussed. “Weren’t you told I was on my way?” He waited impatiently for an answer.

“I-I’m sorry, monsieur! I had no idea—”

“Enough!” Jonathan let his voice rise enough to attract the attention of bystanders. He leaned his crutches forward until he was towering over the man. “Perhaps I will just take my sixteen billion dollars in assets elsewhere!” He spun around and headed for the door, murmuring and cursing to himself.

At the mere mention of the word
billion
, panic struck the heart of the little bank manager. He quickly raced after Jonathan, who was covering a rather large amount of space in a short time, given the crutches. The manager waved his hand. “Monsieur, monsieur, wait! Wait!” Gasping for breath, he reached out to stop Jonathan from leaving. “Monsieur, please wait. I am terribly sorry for the mix-up. I can assure you, it won’t happen again. I will fire my secretary immediately for not making me aware of your arrival.”

Jonathan looked at the man with a disgusted look on his face. He could read the name that was engraved on the man’s gold tie clip. “Listen to me, François. When I come to a place of business to do business, I expect a little more attention and hospitality from my associates. Do I make myself clear?”

The man nodded vehemently. “Yes, monsieur. I do apologize. I can assure you it will not happen again. Now what can I do for you?”

It took everything he had not to laugh out loud, but Jonathan kept his composure and carried on with his charade. “A little while ago, I sent my sister in here to retrieve something from my private box. A redhead. Very attractive. Surely you noticed her.”

“Yes, monsieur. I believe I know the woman you speak of. I led her to the quiet room myself.”

“Good. Then you know what I am here for.”

The man’s eyes widened, and he slowly shook his head.

Once again, Jonathan feigned his disgust. “Good grief, man! What on earth do they pay you for around here!”

“I am sorry, monsieur. Perhaps you can refresh my memory.” The little man gave a pleading look.

“The box, man. The box! I need to see it.”

“Absolutely, monsieur! If you will give me your key and follow me, I will be delighted to take you to it.”

Jonathan rolled his eyes and looked as if he were completely going to lose it. “I don’t have the key, you twit! I just told you. My sister has it! Don’t you have a spare?”

“Monsieur, surely you know that we cannot allow anyone to enter the room without a key.” Little beads of sweat were now forming on the man’s brow.

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