Fade (2005) (14 page)

"You're suggesting we handle this ourselves," Egan said.

"I don't see how bringing in anyone else would improve our capacity t o find him."

Egan didn't answer for a long time, though he knew there was only on e path available to him. The more he thought about it, the more certai n he became that if this went public, he'd end up in prison and Fad e would end up dead but only after taking more good men with him.

"I run the operation," Egan said finally. "I'm in charge."

Strand looked down at the floor and folded his hands on his lap. "I k now you were friends that you feel partially responsible for what'
s happened to him. But the fact is, there is no pleasant way out o f this."

What Strand was getting at was clear but he obviously wanted it sai d out loud so that he could be certain that they were both on the sam e page. He needed Fade killed and he expected Egan to do the honors.

"He called me, too, Hillel. We were friends once but now I have a family to think about. He's too dangerous to play around with."

All the more convincing, because it was true. If he got th e opportunity, Egan knew that it would be insane not to take the shot.

And maybe he would. But until he was faced with that situation, it wa s impossible to say. To actually kill Fade. To pull the trigger. Ho w could it have come to this?

Of course, all this soul-searching, plotting, and negotiating wa s probably moot. It was hard not to dwell on the fact that no one ha d ever survived being targeted by Salam al Fayed. It didn't seem likel y that he and Strand would be the first.

Chapter
Seventeen.

Fade eased the Cadillac through a set of large metal doors and the n followed the direction of a Latino with heavy, tattooed arms to th e center of the cavernous shop. Part three of his plan to cheer himsel f up was now in motion.

"What a piece of shit."

Fade climbed over the driver's side door, which he'd discovered stuc k pretty badly, and dropped onto the black-and-white-checked floor.

Turning in a slow circle, he took in the state-of-the-art machinery , signed photos of famous athletes, and inevitable posters of half-nake d women. The contrast between the spotless building and the grubby , dangerous-looking men crawling all over his car was even more startlin g in person than on TV.

"I appreciate you taking me so fast, Isidro."

"Ain't no problem. We been trying to get you movie guys to wake up fo r years. You got all those famous actors driving around in cars that an y asshole can buy down the street. We did a hot rod for Tom Hanks and h e told me some bullshit about product placement .. ."

"Tom Hanks has a hot rod?"

"The hot rod, man. The hot rod."

Fade had first seen Isidro on a Discovery Channel game show where a team of gifted mechanics could win a bunch of tools by modifying a ca r to the producer's liking. In five days, Isidro and his guys ha d transformed a Porsche into an amphibious landing craft that could d o forty knots on water and still cornered like a dream. In light o f that, what he had in mind for the Caddy should be a piece of cake.

"So James Bond's going to drive this old junk?" said a man standing o n the Caddy's trunk. "What's up with that?"

When Fade had called, he'd told Isidro that he was with MGM and that h e was working on the new Bond flick. It would go a long way t o explaining what he wanted done.

"That's the idea. They've decided to do kind of a period film. Tak e it back to the early seventies, when the Bond movies were still reall y cool. He's on a mission in the U
. S
. so he has to blend in. And wha t car's more American than a convertible Caddy?"

The man adjusted the red bandanna on his head and began bouncing up an d down on the back of the vehicle, obviously disappointed in th e condition of the suspension.

Fade looked back at Isidro. "I figured with all the work you guys wer e going to do, there was no point in buying something mint."

He shrugged and Fade followed him on a quick circuit of the car. "Qui t jumping on the fucking trunk, man. The thing's gonna fall apart."

Fade couldn't help feeling a little star struck as he stood next to th e man. While they looked like a bunch of gang bangers from east L
. A ."

Isidro and his guys were probably the best in the world at what the y did. In fact, they were so precise, rumor had it that a few parts o n the space shuttle bore the Death Valley Hot Rod symbol.

Isidro went into motion again and Fade followed, this time to a n artfully airbrushed refrigerator full of nothing but beer.

"So what are we talking about, man?" Isidro said, popping the top of f a bottle and offering it to Fade.

"I'm glad you asked. Two machine guns in front, one over eac h headlight. One machine gun in the back, firing out of the center o f the trunk. I'd like the back seat to flip up and expose a rifle and a couple other things set into foam. The armrest between the front seat s should have a pistol, also custom cut into foam. A police scanner .. .

Oh, and an ejector seat. We'll definitely need one of those."

"The seat assembly's one piece," the man on the trunk said.

"We could cut 'em," someone else offered. "But you're going to los e your back to front adjustment."

"No problem," Fade said.

"What do you think?" Isidro said to the only Caucasian in the room. H
e had an enormous white ass, the crack of which was almost completely o n display as he got on all fours and shoved his head beneath the seat.

"Does it actually have to work?"

Fade shrugged. "You mean does it really have to be able to throw a gu y out of the car? Nah. Just make it cool, you know?"

"Springs aren't going to cut it. It'd be too hard to operate th e latching system .. ."

"It'd be hard to reset, too," Isidro added, then turned back to Fade.

"Anything else?"

"Nothing major. I need a kick-ass motor and suspension good enough s o we can use it in the chase scenes. And a really elegant paint jot) I'
m thinking black. And, of course, a really sweet sound system. Pierc e Bros-nan's gonna end up spending a lot of time sitting around in it an d he's a classical music fan, you know?"

Isidro nodded slowly and chewed his bottom lip for a few seconds. "No t gonna be cheap."

"I know."

"When do you need it?"

"I hate to do this to you, but I need it fast. Like, middle of nex t week."

That got a chorus of laughter and Spanish expletives loud enough t o echo off the high walls.

"I know, I know," Fade said, spreading his hands wide in a gesture o f helplessness. "I just got hit with this. Pierce is coming to th e States and they want to unveil the project at a big thing in L
. A . He'
s going to drive up in it and park it on the lawn it'll be th e centerpiece of the party. Also we're talking about a TV show on th e making of the movie that you guys would be included in. I know it's a pain in the ass, but it could be some great publicity for you."

Isidro took a long pull on his beer bottle and circled the car one las t time. "Shit, the body will have to go out to paint and chrome, lik e today. Did I mention this isn't gonna be cheap?"

Fade grinned and took the knapsack off his shoulder, tossing it to th e man. "There's fifty thousand in cash to get you started."

This time, the reaction wasn't quite as loud, but it was a hell of a lot more positive.

"Guns," Isidro said. "What are we talking about there?"

Fade grinned and opened the trunk.

"Maldidon! Are those real?"

"Actually, they are. It's a lot cheaper to just get permitted for th e real thing and shoot blanks than to try to build something. Will the y work?"

Isidro grabbed one of the machine guns, striking a pose with it an d bobbing his head approvingly. "Bad ass, man."

"So they're okay?"

He sighted along it, aiming at a candy apple red Harley parked on th e other side of the building. "Probably have to chop 'em up to make 'e m fit."

"Do what you got to do. You've got carte blanche."

Isidro walked back around to the front of the car and tossed the gu n onto the hood, apparently not at all concerned by the large dent i t left. "You're my kind of client, man."

Chapter
Eighteen.

Matt Egan had positioned himself against the back wall of th e conference room, reluctant for some reason to sit at the table Stran d was now standing in front of.

The Office of Strategic Planning and Acquisition consisted of onl y eight core employees the idea being that the smaller it was, the easie r it would be to keep quiet. Of those eight, only four knew what ha d happened with Fade: Strand, himself, and their respective assistant s William Fraiser and Lauren McCall. Both were young, ambitious, wel l educated, and utterly inexperienced in the workings of the real world.

In fact, to his knowledge, he was the only person in Homelan d Security's new clandestine operational wing who had ever fired a gun o r visited the Middle East. No, that wasn't entirely true. Their lawyer , hired to interpret the Constitution and the Patriot Act's occasiona l circumvention of it, had once gone on a church trip to Jerusalem.

Fraiser, who Egan called Billy just to annoy him, had only been out o f grad school for five years and had been assigned to Egan with no inpu t at all from him. Of course, he had all the credentials: a former Iv y League athlete with great grades, a clean background, and a solid eas t coast pedigree. Despite all that or maybe because of it Egan had neve r been able to warm up to him. Fraiser was a former president of hi s class and just came off as a little too slick and political for Egan'
s taste. Honestly, though, the bias was based more on impression tha n action Billy hadn't done anything that wasn't damn near perfect sinc e he'd started. Clearly a young man with the tools to carve out a serious future for himself.

Lauren, on the other hand, was a perfect match for Strand: a beautifu l blonde who didn't seem interested in her job beyond how she could us e it as a springboard to greater things, but who was so close to bein g brilliant that it didn't matter. Not that Strand had probably give n her abilities all that much thought when he'd hired her. It seeme d more likely that he'd based his decision more on her appearanc e (Scandinavian ice princess) and the way she carried hersel f (aristocratic dominatrix) than her abilities. It wasn't sexual, thoug h nothing so pure as that. He just thought she was a classy ornament fo r his office.

He knew the other two men in the room only from their files. They'
d been the two front-runners for populating OSPA's operational arm.

"I'd like to introduce Doug Banes and Steve Despain," Strand said whe n everyone was settled. "They've both come over from Marine Specia l Forces and are the first operatives to be recruited by us."

Egan reluctantly joined the brief interlude of hand shaking and smal l talk, but then immediately returned to his wall. Banes and Despai n were both good men but for some reason they made him uncomfortable.

Probably something to do with the fact that Strand hadn't said a wor d about their hiring and that they had undoubtedly been told that the y answered only to him. In the end, they would almost certainly turn ou t to be just another thing to worry about.

"Al Fayed contacted me yesterday," Strand said, plummeting the roo m into complete silence. Interestingly, Billy and Lauren looked mor e nervous than anyone. They were more or less aware of what had happene d and undoubtedly had been watching OSPA's clandestine attempt t o persuade Fade to join up get splashed all over the TV. They wer e probably thinking that it was often the people at their level who ende d up doing jail time while the higher-ups just rode the old-boy networ k into a lucrative private industry job.

"He's lost it," Strand continued. "He was ranting. I tried to cal m him down, to bring him in, but there was no way .. ." He pause d dramatically.

"I don't want anyone to panic, but I don't think I have the right t o keep this from you. He's threatened us. All of us. He says h e intends to kill me and my entire team."

Egan frowned as Billy and Lauren's eyes turned completely round. Funn y how Fade hadn't mentioned any grudge against the team to him. Come t o think of it, he hadn't done a lot of ranting, either. But Stran d needed everyone motivated and he probably figured there was nothin g that lit a fire under people like a glimpse of their own violen t deaths. In Egan's experience, though, that strategy wasn't always a s effective as one would expect. Motivated and panicked were two ver y different things. This kind of situation always had the potential t o degenerate into anarchic game of every-man-for-himself.

"Obviously, we need to find him and neutralize the situation as quickl y and quietly as possible."

There was a short silence and then Billy cleared his throat. For a moment, Egan thought he was going to ask what "neutralize th e situation" meant, but he didn't.

"Matt's going to take the lead in this," Strand continued. "While it'
s true that he doesn't have the pure investigative experience of a twenty-year FBI veteran, I believe he's the most qualified man for th e job. He has an intimate knowledge of al Fayed's history, hi s tendencies, and his training. And he has you the best team in th e business. I don't think there's any question that if we stay focused , we've got a winning hand."