A Necessary Kill (16 page)

“I just tend to assume most things are meant as one—it’s easier.”

She shakes her head. “You’re an idiot.”

“Thanks!”

“Oh my God…”

We come up on a building that looks like a warehouse of some kind from behind, but as the trees clear, a sign becomes visible. I point to it. “It’s an auto shop.”

Ruby looks across at me and smiles. “Perfect place to borrow a car.”

I smile back. “My thoughts exactly. Come on.”

We move carefully, stepping through the undergrowth until we reach the chain-link fence at the back of the property. We scale it quickly and quietly and drop down behind the building. I scan the area for any security cameras, but I can’t see any, thank God.

We move so our backs are against the wall, tentatively edging around the southeast corner. I feel Ruby’s arm move behind her, presumably going for her gun.

I put my hand on her elbow. “No need for that. Even if there’s anyone here, they won’t be a threat.”

She shrugs me away. “Instinct. Sorry.”

“Yeah, I get that, don’t worry. Come on.”

We move around, staying close to the wall as we make our way down the side of the building. As we reach the northeast corner, we stop again, drop into a crouch, and peer around. There’s no sign of life—the place must be closed for the evening.

At the front of the shop is a parking lot, a gas pump, and an air machine for tires, at the opposite end from us.

Ruby nudges my arm and gestures to the handful of vehicles standing in the lot. “Jackpot,” she whispers.

I take one last look behind us before scanning ahead. There’s a security camera above the door to the office, which is maybe six yards along the front of the building from where we are. I can just about see another one at the far end, above the metal shutters.

I lean in close and whisper, “We need to be careful here. If we get caught on camera, there’ll be a trail of breadcrumbs leading everyone right to us.”

Keeping low, I set off moving forward, away from the building and the camera’s line of sight. A few moments later, I hear Ruby behind me. We make it almost to the street and then head parallel to the shutters until we reach the cars.

I stop by the hood of a generic tan-colored saloon car and look back at Ruby. “This one’s fine.”

She shakes her head. “Uh-uh.” She points past me, and I follow her gaze. “
That
one.”

She’s pointing to a 1978 Silver Corvette C3 Coupe.

I shake my head. “No…”

She barges past me to the car and runs her fingertips along the side. “Yes! God, yes!” She turns and looks back at me. “We
have
to drive this car!”

I walk over to her. It’s a nice set of wheels, I admit that. A real classic, and it looks sexy as hell. But…

“Ruby, we need to stay discreet.
This
… this will be like a beacon attracting every G-man and LEO to us like moths to a flame.”

She shrugs. “Let’s be honest, Adrian. They’re gonna find us sooner or later anyway. At least in this, we get to have some fun! Plus, we’ll get to Atlantic City a helluva lot faster. Come on… live a little!”

“If we live a little, we might end up dying a lot!” I sigh. I can’t physically summon the strength required to argue my point any further. “Ah, fuck it—knock yourself out.”

She squeals like a teenage girl at a pop concert and jumps at me, throwing her arms around my neck and pulling me down to her height, hugging me tightly.

“Thank you!”

She lets me go and moves around to the driver’s door. It takes her a few moments to get inside, and a few more to disable the alarm and hotwire it. She starts it up and guns the engine. The loud roar reminds me of The European’s sales pitch about his new Ferrari.

I climb into the passenger seat beside her, slightly cramped in the small space.

“New Jersey, here we come!” she says, smiling with genuine excitement.

I shift in my seat as I struggle to find any level of comfort. “Just get us there in one piece, please.”

She scoffs and smiles. “Pussy.”

She pulls onto the street and heads right, putting her foot to the floor and weaving through the light traffic until we hit the freeway.

I stare out the window watching the low skyline of Greensboro fade into the distance as dusk falls.

I’m glad to see the back of this place…

20:58 EDT

President Cunningham strode urgently into the Situation Room through doors held open by one of the marines stationed outside. On his heels was Gerald Heskith. As they entered, the people sitting around the table got to their feet. Cunningham was in no mood for pleasantries. It was yet another irritating occasion when he needed to act like any other president would despite knowing the horrific truth that others didn’t.

“Take your seats,” he said to the room before sitting at the head of the table. Heskith sat to his immediate right. “Somebody talk me through exactly what happened.”

An analyst sitting to Heskith’s right cleared his throat. “Mr. President, there were two explosions on a street in Greensboro, North Carolina, a little over two hours ago.”

He paused to nod at the man sitting across from him, who stood and walked over to a workstation at the back of the room. Within seconds, the large screen on the wall facing the table flickered to life, showing a topographical map of the area as well as satellite feeds and local news reports.

The analyst continued. “The first was a vehicle, and we believe a single gunshot to the gas tank triggered the explosion. The second was the building across the street, roughly seven minutes later. The entire structure was destroyed, and the buildings on either side suffered extensive collateral damage.”

Cunningham stroked his chin absently, processing the information. “Casualties?”

The analyst let out a taut breath. “Twenty confirmed dead, with the same number missing or injured. Emergency services secured the scene within minutes…”

Heskith looked down the table at the man sitting at the opposite end. Dennis Atkins, the director of national intelligence. He was a short man who had served in the navy before retiring to take up the position offered to him on Cunningham’s council.

“Director Atkins, has anyone come forward to claim responsibility for this?” he asked.

Atkins shook his head. When he spoke, his voice was deep and deliberate. “No, Gerry, they haven’t. There’s been no indication thus far that this was an act of terrorism.”

“So what are we looking at here?” asked Cunningham.

“At the moment, we don’t know. The evidence from the scene is being worked over by the FBI, and I’ve asked to be personally kept in the loop on this. As soon as we have anything, I’ll let you know, Mr. President.”

Heskith had a notepad in front of him. He quickly scribbled a single word on it, and then turned it to show the president.

Cunningham looked first at Heskith, then at the pad, and frowned.

Matthews…?

The president sighed heavily. This attack certainly wasn’t something he had anticipated as part of his ongoing agenda. So he had to proceed like anyone else in his position would.

He addressed the room. “Okay, in light of everything recently, I want this treated as an act of terrorism until proven otherwise. I want to know who was behind it, and I want the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff to personally put together a retaliatory response strategy within the hour. We’re trying to help, but we cannot allow anyone to attack us, whether it’s because of misplaced blame for what happened or something else. It is our responsibility to lead the people of the country, and the world, toward a new future. And we must show that we are strong, which means we will take swift and decisive action against anyone who threatens that future.”

The analysts around the table exchanged nervous glances.

“That’ll be all,” he said. “I’d like the room for a moment, please.”

Everyone stood and walked toward the door except Heskith and Atkins, who knew to remain seated. Once the last of them had left the room and the door was closed, Cunningham addressed his intelligence director.

“Dennis, what really happened?” he asked.

Atkins fixed his commander-in-chief with a focused stare and spoke, each word measured. “Mr. President, may I speak freely?”

“Please do.”

“Thank you, sir.” He cleared his throat. “Mr. President, you need to strongly consider removing General Matthews from his post as CIA director. This,” he pointed to the screen, “was
his
mess.”

Cunningham let out an impatient sigh and clenched his jaw to subdue his anger. He glanced at Heskith briefly before replying. “You know that for sure?”

Atkins nodded. “Over half the casualties caught in the second blast were CIA agents sent there to apprehend Adrian Hell, who we believed would be there.”

Heskith held up a hand. “Sir, you may want to consider leaving the room before this de-brief continues.”

Cunningham shook his head. “No, I want to know. In a little over twenty-four hours the second phase of our plan begins, and if there’s anything that could jeopardize that happening, I want to be aware of it.”

Atkins nodded. “Very well, sir. General Matthews approached one of the assassins from the list we recovered back in Maine, and recruited him before Adrian Hell got the chance. His mission was to kill everyone else on that list, including our primary target. What you’re seeing here is this assassin’s failed attempt to do just that. He checked in with his assigned handler at the agency to advise he’s heading to Atlantic City to eliminate his final target.”

“So he doesn’t realize he failed in Greensboro?” asked Heskith.

Atkins shook his head. “It appears that way, yes.”

Cunningham scratched the back of his neck and shook his head, regretting not asking more about this endeavor before giving his consent to it. “And why did the CIA have a team there?”

“The assassin explained that he’d trapped Adrian Hell in the building by securing a bomb to his chair. The CIA unit was to disarm it upon arrival and take Adrian into custody. Unfortunately, Adrian managed to escape and rig the device so that it exploded as the agents were entering the building.”

Heskith shook his head. “Sonofabitch…”

“Okay,” said Cunningham, leaning forward in his seat. “Dennis, from now on you will personally take control of both Cerberus
and
the operation to take out this bastard. I want him dead, and I want whatever information he has on his person destroyed.”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

He turned to Heskith. “Gerry, I want you to reach out to this assassin. Warn him about Adrian, and tell him to finish his job in New Jersey as planned. Then give him his new target. Do I make myself clear?”

Heskith glanced down at the name he wrote on his pad. “Yes, sir, Mr. President.”

“Good.” He turned back to Atkins. “Director, thank you for your time.”

“Of course, Mr. President. I’ll be in touch.” He stood and took his leave.

The room fell silent. Cunningham leaned back heavily in his chair and stared at the polished surface of the mahogany desk. Next to him, Heskith allowed the president a moment of reflection before producing a file, which he slid across the surface of the table.

“Sir, this is everything I’ve managed to find on Adrian Hell.”

Cunningham opened the file and skimmed through it. The more he read, the wider his eyes became.

“I spoke with Julius Jones about this over at Langley,” continued Heskith. “He knew Adrian way back when because they founded the D.E.A.D. unit together. When he left to pursue a career as a gun for hire, most of what little paperwork existed about him was destroyed.”

“This man’s a living, breathing weapon…” observed Cunningham.

“He’s a dangerous adversary, yes.”

“Matthews should’ve done his homework.”

“Maybe. But his plan to send a snake to kill a snake was still a sound strategy under the circumstances. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before we take him out, sir.”

“I’m leaving it in your capable hands, old friend. See that Director Atkins gets this information.”

“I will, Mr. President. So, how are our friends overseas?”

“They’re waiting for our word.” He let out a long, calming sigh. “I tell you, Gerry, this has been a long time coming. And despite GlobaTech’s involvement, it’s still played out pretty much as I expected.”

“It was a smart move awarding them the job of providing foreign aid. Though they probably saw it as something we did in exchange for them keeping their mouths shut about what they knew.”

“Well, I never wanted to include them in anything, but because of Adrian Hell’s interference, I had no choice but to let them conduct their investigations and provide assistance. The public was crying out for it. I knew we could control the flow of information so they would never find anything incriminating. But then they figured out how Cerberus fitted into it all. I was forced to play my hand early and make my statement about El-Zurak being apprehended.”

“I wouldn’t worry, Mr. President. It doesn’t matter what intel Adrian has. We’ll stop him before he can use it.”

“How do you know he hasn’t already?”

Heskith shrugged. “Honestly, sir? If he made his intel public, I’m sure we’d have found out by now. I know how his mind works—he believes he’s only alive because of it, so he’ll keep it close to his chest, thinking he’s safe.”

“See to it you’re right, Gerry. It’s all falling into place, and I want to make sure nothing else gets in the way. We’re ready to take the next big step forward, and we can do so without any of the sacrifices we were expecting to make to our own military forces. It’s beautiful! Is Fielding ready?”

“He is, sir. He’s ready to give the order on your command.”

“Good. I trust Atkins will deliver Adrian Hell to us soon. And I’m leaving Matthews’ retirement to you.” He took a breath and allowed himself a small smile as, for the first time in a long while, he could see a clear picture in his mind of the endgame.

He flipped idly to the back page of Adrian’s file, frowning as he glanced over it.

“Adrian owns a bar in Texas?”