A Murder of Crows (27 page)

When his new handheld began to vibrate, he checked the dashboard screen. He expected to see an incoming update from Rahul or Jason.

Instead, he saw two words:
PROXIMITY ALERT
.

OMNI had detected a secure federal bandwidth within the Buick’s scanning range.

Hicks kept one hand on the wheel as he tapped the dashboard screen to bring up a tactical map of his immediate area. One icon on the map showed his Buick heading north on the highway. A second icon several hundred feet behind him was actively sending and receiving signals via a known secure NSA bandwidth.

Maybe Stephens was back in the hunt after all.

Hicks hit the voice command button on the steering wheel. “Overlay map with a live satellite image.”

The electronic voice of the Trustee repeated the command as the road map was replaced by a live image taken from a satellite miles above the earth.

It showed a bird’s eye view of Hicks’ Buick in the middle of dozens of cars all heading north along the highway. The icon showing the secure signal was still at the bottom of the screen, but the vehicle was out of the current view.

Hicks commanded OMNI to zoom out five percent and the vehicle appeared at the bottom of the screen. “Zoom in on the source of the secure signal.”

The screen re-centered on the vehicle as it magnified the image. The signal was coming from a black Ford Expedition barreling north at seventy-five miles an hour.

Hicks checked his rearview mirror, but there were too many cars between him and the Expedition to get a visual fix on it. He was more curious than worried. It might not be Stephens. It could be a couple of FBI men on their way home or a secret US Marshal prisoner transport. It could’ve been a couple of Treasury men on their way to a stakeout or any number of other benign reasons, none of which had anything to do with him.

Hicks decided to find out.

He slowed down as he shifted into the center lane before moving to the right. He hoped the SUV would pass him, giving him a better look at the vehicle.

But when the Expedition also slowed and moved into the right lane, he knew this wasn’t some federal vehicle on a milk run. He was being followed.

Hicks knew he couldn’t simply gun the engine and try to outrun them. Speed might have been enough in the old days, but a clean escape was damned near impossible under the watchful eye of the Barnyard satellites above. Besides, traffic was too heavy. He bet Stephens had a satellite locked on his Buick and was tracking him remotely. He didn’t know how or when they had acquired him, but it didn’t matter anymore.

Hicks knew Stephens had to be in the car. This had become personal.

And it was time to show Stephens exactly who he was dealing with.

The day before, he would have needed an Operator to help him execute his next move. But yesterday, he wasn’t the Dean. He decided to put his newfound access to the test. He double tapped the icon of the Expedition on the screen and activated OMNI’s voice prompt. “Tap into the secure signal of the target vehicle.”

A spiral appeared on the dashboard screen, showing OMNI was working to hack the frequency. A few seconds later, a new prompt appeared on the bottom of the screen:
FREQUENCY ACCESSED
.

Another window popped up which allowed him to contact the car trailing him. He selected the option and spoke over the secure frequency. “I guess you’re not too good at taking hints, are you, Ace?”

Stephens’ response was quicker than Hicks had expected. “I don’t take hints, asshole.”

“You don’t take advice, either. I told your boss Avery to leave me alone.”

“Must’ve been some kind of mix up,” Stephens said. “I didn’t get that message.”

“Too bad. How about we pull over so I can deliver it to you personally?”

It sounded like Stephens laughed. “You read my mind. There’s a place off the next exit…”

“I’ve got a better idea.” Hicks steered the Buick onto the wide shoulder on the right side of the highway and hit the brakes, kicking up gravel as the car skidded to a stop.

He watched the dashboard screen as the icon of Stephens’ SUV slowly passed him. With his own eyes, he watched the black Expedition pull onto the shoulder about a hundred feet ahead. The move also drew a lot of horns and screeching breaks and curses from the drivers moving north at a good clip.

Hicks rolled the Buick forward to close the gap between them. He stopped ten feet away from the back of the Expedition and put the Buick in park. He kept the engine running and the headlights on. He got out of the car—leaving the driver’s side door open—and leaned against the hood of his Buick and waited. He made sure his suit jacket was open, too.

The sound of the cars buzzing past them on the highway reminded Hicks of angry bees. Roger’s retort of Stephens’ past came to mind.
Buzz, buzz.

He watched Stephens get out of the passenger side of the Expedition and walk back toward him. He was taller and broader than Hicks remembered from the street and the video feed from the warehouse. The Trustee back at Columbia Square in Savannah had been right once again. Seeing things with your own eyes gives the truest perspective.

Stephens was wearing a blue suit, a white shirt, and a blue tie. His jacket was open, too. He stopped by the back wheel of the Expedition, about ten feet away. His hands were at his sides.

Hicks smiled. “Don’t you look pretty? All dressed up in a nice suit. Guess you got called on the carpet by your bosses for the Weehawken thing.”

Stephens didn’t smile. “You, my friend, have been one gigantic pain in my ass.”

“I’m not your friend. Tell the driver to roll down his window and keep his face in the side view mirror where I can see him.”

“And if I refuse?”

“You saw what I did to your people on the street yesterday. Figure it out.”

Over his shoulder, Stephens said, “Roll down your window and stay visible. Let’s see how this asshole plays this.”

The driver’s window rolled down and Hicks saw a woman’s face in the side view mirror. She had a short haircut bordering on pixie style.

Hicks remembered how Roger had goaded Stephens into losing his temper. He decided to do the same. It might give him an edge. “Holy shit. Is that Sandy Duncan?”

“Who the fuck is Sandy Duncan?”

“Doesn’t matter.” He looked at the driver again. “She’s cute, though. You fucking her?”

“The only one who’s going to get fucked around here is you, little man. Spent the whole day in meetings talking about what to do about you.”

“No shit? What did you come up with? A resolution to write a memo and schedule a meeting to review the memo?”

“We’re way past that stage,” Stephens said. “Playtime’s over and now you’re coming with us.”

“That’s not going to happen, Ace. It’s been a long day, so the only place I’m going is home. You should go home, too. You look tired as hell.”

“Only place you’re going is a holding cell. Orders from the Director himself. He’s had enough of your shit and he wants you in custody. In the back seat of my truck or in a rubber bag in the trunk, it makes no difference to me.”

“I don’t believe that,” Hicks said. “If he wanted me picked up this place would be swarming with Quantico farm boys right now. He’d never send only two people after such a high value target. I don’t doubt you had a lot of meetings about me today, but I’d wager your wings got clipped and you’re banking on the idea that bringing me in is the best way to get back in good graces with your bosses.”

He waited for Stephens to answer, but he didn’t. Hicks went on. “You still don’t get what’s going on here, do you? I’ve already beaten your group twice and today I hacked your own communication line while you were tracking me. I’ve been one step ahead of you every time, and I still am. Bringing me in is only going to bring you more trouble than you’ve already got. I warned you once to leave me alone. I won’t warn you again.” He remembered some personal details from Stephens’ file. “No reason for your daughters to grow up without a father.”

Stephens shifted his weight, like he was getting ready to make a move. “You’re the second asshole in the past twenty-four hours who has threatened my family. Your friend back in the sweatbox told me the same thing when he grabbed me. Whispered my girls’ names and birthdays in my ear while he had me on the table. That how you bastards operate? By threatening men’s families?”

“I didn’t threaten them and neither did he. I threatened you. Each time you’ve tried to jump us, you’ve gotten slapped back. Consider those warnings a professional courtesy because they won’t last forever.”

“Professionals get paid, little man. Who’s paying you?”

Hicks shook his head. “We’re not there yet. First we need to get along before you get to go along.”

“How about we try building up some trust,” Stephens said. “Tell me where Bajjah is. I know you grabbed him and his accomplice down in Philly. At least confirm you’ve still got him or he’s still in the country. I know you’re plugged into the game at some level. I’d bet we’re playing for the same side. Give me something to bring back to my bosses and maybe I can buy you a little more time.”

Twenty-four hours before, Hicks might have taken that option. But a lot could change in a day. A lot had. Maybe the Dean and the Trustees were right. Men like Stephens never took no for an answer. It wasn’t in their DNA. If he cracked the door open, they’d kick it in and burn the house down, especially now that pride was involved.

He remembered the Trustee’s threats, but she wasn’t in the field calling plays. She wasn’t responsible for protecting the University. He was and that’s exactly what he was going to do. His way.

“How about I make you a deal instead?” Hicks offered. “Back off now and in a week, you and I will have a sit down where I answer all of your questions. Show a little patience and good faith today and in a few days, I’ll make you look like a hero. Make your bosses forget all about your Weehawken embarrassment. Hell, maybe you’ll get Avery’s job instead.”

“That’s the deal?”

“Yep. And it expires the minute I drive out of here.”

Stephens leaned toward him. “What makes you think you’re driving out of here?”

“There’s no question about me driving out of here, Ace. Either you listen to reason or you and your girlfriend end up as chalk outlines on the side of the highway.”

Stephens left hand flinched.

Hicks had the Ruger in his hand before Stephens’ hand reached his belt line.

Stephens stopped when he saw it. “Damn, old man. You’re fast.”

“I’m not old.” Hicks didn’t want to attract the attention of any cops who might be driving by, so he kept the Ruger at his side. “A Beekeeper’s greatest asset is supposed to be his patience. You’d be wise to keep that in mind the next time you try to crowd me. Give me a week unobserved and unobstructed and I’ll give you answers to questions you’re not even asking yet. But if you keep pushing me, it’ll cost you.”

Hicks eased himself off the hood and began walking backward toward the driver’s side of the Buick.

Stephens stayed where he was, hands visible. “Why should I trust you?”

“Because you’re still alive, Ace. That’s got to count for something.”

Hicks kept the Ruger free as he got behind the wheel and fired up the engine. The windshield and the windows were all bulletproof glass. The doors and body were armor plated. If Stephens or the driver fired at him, Hicks would be safe and respond accordingly.

But the DIA Beekeeper didn’t go for his gun. He simply stood and watched Hicks pull the Buick back into traffic and drive away.