Agent of Influence: A Thriller (12 page)

Chapter 16

             
              Present Day, Las Vegas

              Solomon stood in the hotel room, staring at the massive girth of the dead body sprawled across the floor. He locked the door to prevent any curious hotel guests from interrupting him. He estimated he could stay two to three minutes before hotel security, and eventually the cops both arrived on the scene. He assumed one of the other guests was currently calling the front desk in a panic. When he heard the shots as he sprinted down the stairs he feared the worst. He knew his man had a silenced weapon, and a loud gunshot could only mean that someone else was there. He performed a quick search of the room that yielded nothing. There was no more he could do, so he grabbed Shakir’s wallet from his pants and headed out. The longer it took the police to identify the body, the better off Solomon would be.

             
At least he knew he could stop killing people, he thought as he jogged across the hallway and down the stairs. A quick phone call would allow him to find out the name of the person that the hotel room was listed under.  Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Solomon purposefully pushed through the emergency exit door that set off the fire alarms. He wanted to create as much confusion as possible.

He
stepped gingerly into the concrete jungle of the alleyway, cautiously stepping over a homeless drunk who was sitting in his own urine. He had a flash of inspiration and tossed Shakir’s wallet onto the sleeping man’s stomach. Solomon glanced towards the street where a hooker in a tight black mini-skirt and fishnet stockings stood with her back to him, attempting to sell her goods to the steady stream of humanity strolling the sidewalks. The smell of marijuana was heavy in the enclosed air of the alley. The alarm continued its merciless clanging as he walked purposefully down the alley, past the surprised hooker, and then crossed Las Vegas Boulevard and waltzed into the Desert Dust Inn. He needed to talk to the boss immediately. As he walked into the freezing air of the casino he dialed Gregor’s cell phone to update him on the situation.

***

The Toyota 4Runner cruised down the freeway at seventy-five miles per hour, heading northwest on the I-95 highway that ran along the Arizona-California-Nevada border. It would eventually lead to Reno, “the biggest little city in the world,” as the local government liked to call it. Alex glanced back at the diminishing landscape of Las Vegas.  The sun was beginning to lose its strength, and in less than an hour it would be nightfall. It had been twenty minutes since they left Las Vegas, and the woman had yet to say a word. She just concentrated on the road, constantly checking her mirrors, presumably watching for anyone who might be trailing them.

             
“You want to talk now? I’ve been watching. I don’t think anyone is following us. I need to know what I’ve gotten myself into,” Alex said.  The silence was beginning to eat away at him.

“Not now, Alex. Give me an hour to get further away from Vegas. Then
we can talk. By the way, I’ll be the one to decide when we are in the clear. Just because you were accepted in to the CIA doesn’t mean you know jack shit about surveillance. Leave that to me,” the woman said with an edge to her voice.  At least he could assume she was a CIA agent. How else would she know he had just been hired?

             
“Can you at least tell me where we’re going Ms..?” he asked. Alex still did not know her name.

“
You can call me Marilyn.  We’re going to Reno. It’s about seven hours away. Now shut up and give me an hour of silence. Take a nap if you can. I can’t guarantee you’ll be getting much sleep any time soon.”

Alex decided it would be best to obey, so he propped his head up against the glass of the passenger side window, closed his eyes, and wondered how he was going to explain his disappearance to Michael.

***

             
Aman was back at his desk after a long day on the golf course with the President-Elect. Zachariah Hardin was on the floor below, and Aman had dictated strict instructions to the Secret Service to not allow any women into the room, regardless of what Zach told them to do. His male cravings were causing enough problems. The one positive aspect about Aman’s current situation was that, at the moment, he had more control over the Secret Service agents than Zach. As Zach’s main confidant, adoptive father, and campaign manager, he still wielded the power over safety issues. The President-Elect was on the verge of limitless power, but technically remained powerless for at least the next few weeks. For now, Aman could tell the agents what to do without worrying about being overruled. The cell phone on his hand-crafted oak desk came to life. Only Solomon and Gregor had the number.

“Yes?” Aman said hastily.

              “I’m on the first floor. I’m coming up,” Solomon replied.

“You have news?”

“Of a sort. If anyone else is with you, send them away.” The phone went dead in Aman’s ear. Solomon was his usually chatty self. Hopefully he would have good news to share.

             
“Where’s the horn dog?” The American slang sounded strange when combined with Solomon’s slight accent. He looked at the haggard figure of Aman, slumped in his chair. A day of golf and the old man looked exhausted. Solomon wished he would get a little exercise once in a while. If the boss died he was not sure he would be able to keep his job. He knew Aman was merely a front man for someone, and any decisions after he was dead would probably come from somewhere in the Middle East.

“Zac
h is in a suite below us. I’ve given the agents strict orders not to allow any women in the room.”

“
Good. I don’t want to have to track down any more incriminating photos. The last twenty four hours have not been enjoyable.”

“W
hat do you have for me?” Aman ignored the quip about the photos. He never told Solomon exactly what the stripper had photographed with her cell phone; only that it needed to be recovered. 

Solomon gave him the run down of what happened while Aman was at the golf course. He ended with the incident across the street at the
Imperial Palace. Aman listened intently, it was not exactly the news he wanted to hear, but things were improving somewhat.

             
“At least there will be no more deaths besides the girl and her accomplice. The press is already crawling all over this city looking for any trouble they can find. They may love Zach now, but they’re fickle. It wouldn’t take much for the jackals to turn on him if those photos ended up in the wrong hands. What’s our next move then?”

             
“I called Gregor and gave him instructions, as well as a description of this Alex Bryce that the room was registered under.  We need to run this guy’s name by your sources. See if he is a government agent. I would assume he is the lady’s partner. I have as many people as we can spare watching the hotels and airport, but I would bet they have already left the city.”

“You still have
not solved the problem yet.” Aman did not hide his annoyance. If they were already out of the city, the chances of catching them without drawing attention to themselves grew exceedingly more difficult.

 
              “They can’t get out at Vegas’s airport. I have men crawling all over that place. I called Gregor right before I told you I was coming up. He has already checked things out at the Imperial Palace and found out that a man and a woman matching our quarry were seen sprinting out of the hotel and into an SUV.

“Where do you think they are heading?”

“Reno most likely.  That’s the closest airport. And your organization is not as strong there. I’m going to charter your plane to Reno and see if I can find them myself. Gregor is putting out some calls to the few men you keep in Reno to advise them of the situation and what to watch for. He’ll also have a license plate number for their car as soon as they let him in to view the security cameras of the Palace’s valet area. One good thing about Las Vegas, cameras are everywhere.”

             
“Fine. Now get out of here. I’ll call our flight boys and make sure they have the plane ready for you.” Aman’s pudgy right hand grabbed the phone on his desk while his left motioned for Solomon to leave. He poured himself a drink after making a call to the airport crew. He would update Zach on the situation after finishing his drink. If Solomon recovered the phone, he would have to consider having him permanently dealt with. He hated the idea of doing it, but he could not risk Solomon seeing what the woman stole. It would be the ultimate blackmail tool.              

***

Somewhere Between Reno and Las Vegas

Alex stared
straight ahead at the never-ending expanse of concrete freeway lit up by the SUV’s headlights and continued trying to wrap his mind around what was happening to him. He was unable to obey the woman’s earlier command to sleep. Looking down, he noticed for the first time that he still had a vice grip on the pistol he picked up off the hotel floor at the woman’s request. He loosened his grip and his body uncoiled, finally releasing some of the tension from the last few hours.

             
“I was beginning to think that you would never give it up. I thought I would have to use the jaws of life to get that gun out of your hand,” the woman said with a smirk.

Alex thought the joke sounded more like a critique than an attempt at humor. “I hope you are a better spy than you are a comedian.” He shot her a look of disgust, and noticed for the first time that she had cut her hair. He mentally scolded himself for not noticing it immediately. The slight alteration made a huge difference in her appearance.

“I am,” was her only reply. “We appear to be clear. I don’t believe anyone is following us. That could be very good or very bad news,” she said matter-of-factly.

             
“What are you talking about? I thought this was some sort of training.” Alex still held out a faint hope that the blood spilled back in his hotel room was fake, and this was all a charade.

“The man you saw in the hallway outside your hotel room, was he about five foot eight, pale skin, with shaggy black hair; weighing, say, 185 pounds give or take?”

              “Yes, that’s probably a good description.”

“That’s Solomon. He’s
good. He picked you up outside the MGM, and followed you back to your hotel.”

             
“And what about you?” Alex asked with trepidation.

“I’ve
been keeping tabs on you ever since I dropped the phone on you in the airport. I’ve been your guardian angel.”             

             
“Are you telling me this is not a training exercise?” Alex was now desperate for a concrete answer.

“It’s
not a training exercise. You were my secret safety valve. Your trip out here coincided perfectly with a secret op I’m running.”

Alex sucked in air. His thoughts turned back to his two friends. “If this is real then they probably saw me with my friends.” He stared out the window at the shadow of the desert, too afraid to admit the obvious.

“They are surely dead. I’m sorry. I know this sounds cold, but you’re going to have to try to forget about them for the moment. There will be time for grieving later, assuming you live.” She was quiet for a few seconds before continuing. “I know all about your background, Alex. The case you worked on in Indianapolis could be helpful in your new job. That is assuming we get out of this alive,” she said with a resolute tone. 

              “Okay,” he whispered meekly, accepting his fate. He was numb from the realization of his friends’ probable murder. “Aren’t you going to tell me what is so important about that phone?” He gestured towards the pocket he saw her put it in.

             
“Not now. When you need to know something, I’ll tell you. For now, let’s just say that what is in this cell phone could cause our President-Elect a lot of bad publicity. It could end his term before it has even begun, if it’s what I think it is.”

“That doesn’t
exactly give me a whole lot to go by. For all I know, you could be lying and be some sort of rogue agent,” Alex replied. He was beginning to wonder if he should try to escape now. But what could he do?  He glanced at the pistol he dropped on the floor.

             
“If I thought you believed that, you’d already be dead. If something happens to me and you somehow survive just try and reach Sean Hill at the FBI. Tell him you are reporting in for Marilyn, and I guarantee he will take your call, no questions asked.” She stole a glance at him to see if he was taking her seriously. “Also, don’t even think about trying to grab the gun and get away either.” She waved a disapproving finger in his direction, and he cringed at her ability to read him so easily.

“Why can’t we just stop off at the nearest pay phone and call this friend of yours. This whole thing seems like a lot of unnecessary work to me. Driving all over
Nevada. Why can’t they just swoop in and get us?” It seemed simple as far as Alex was concerned.

She gripped the steering wheel with annoyance. “My investigation involves Zachariah Hardin. The President-Elect or someone close to him may have an informant somewhere in the
U.S. government. I’ve been digging into Mr. Hardin’s past, and someone does not seem to like it. Trying to call in will probably get us killed. I tried to email the picture using the phone, but the piece of shit isn’t working. It’s probably safest for me to deliver it by hand. Besides the picture is just one piece of the puzzle. I need some additional information before we take it to the next level.”