Hitman: Enemy Within (29 page)

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Authors: William C. Dietz

Tags: #Science Fiction - Adventure, #Fiction - Science Fiction, #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #Science Fiction - General, #action, #General, #Science Fiction And Fantasy

BOOK: Hitman: Enemy Within
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The answer was the sedative that 47 had stolen from a local veterinarian’s office along with a variety of things meant to cover what the assassin really wanted. And, because the vet doubled as the local animal control officer, the assassin had been able to steal a dart gun as well. Thus equipped, it was time for a dry run. This was one of the most important assignments of his career, and he wasn’t about to leave anything to chance.

Having left the Scaparelli outfit back at the hotel, Agent 47 eased his way down the hillside behind the house and bellied up to the stone wall. It was late, so most of the lights were off, and with the exception of the dog and two security guards, the entire household was clearly in bed. The German shepherd was allowed to roam free, so it wasn’t long before the dog rounded a corner and paused to sample the night air. Agent 47 heard the animal growl deep in its throat, knew a bark would follow, and took careful aim. The air pistol could fire only one hypodermic dart at a time—which meant that the first shot would have to be dead-on. It was a lot to ask at night, especially since he was using an unfamiliar weapon.

The bark was already starting to form itself in the German shepherd’s throat when 47 squeezed the trigger. There was a soft
phut
as the dart flew straight and true, followed by a startled yelp as the needle entered flesh and delivered a 5:1 combination of ketamine and xylazine into the dog’s circulatory system. The animal took three staggering steps, wobbled as it tried to remain upright, and collapsed.Which was perfect.

But had anyone heard?

Agent 47 hesitated for a moment, blood pounding in his ears, before vaulting over the wall. The guards would find the dog—that was a given—but how soon? The challenge was to recover the dart and enter the house before the animal was discovered.

One of many things the operative had learned from Maria was that the security cameras went unmonitored during the day, on the theory that there was no need for electronic surveillance as long as the guards were patrolling the grounds. Was the same true at night? Agent 47 would find out soon enough as he raced across the yard to the point where the semiconscious dog lay, plucked the yellow-feather dart out of the animal’s side, and slipped it into a pocket. This small detail was crucial. With nothing else to go on, the guards would conclude that the animal was sick, and hopefully focus on him rather than search for an intruder.

Moments later a male voice was heard calling for the German shepherd and it became steadily louder. The assassin felt something heavy land in the pit of his stomach as he made for the back door. Would there be sufficient time to pick the lock? No, 47was pretty sure that there wouldn’t be, as he put his hand on the doorknob and twisted.

The knob turned, the door opened, and he was inside!

What about the alarm?
Surely Thorakis would have one. But no, the house was as quiet as a tomb, with only the ticking of a grandfather clock to break the otherwise perfect silence. This suggested that the person who was in charge of security was entirely too reliant on the human factor. Worried lest he make noise, or track telltale dirt through what Maria claimed was a spotlessly clean house, 47 removed his shoes, tied the shoelaces together so he could hang them around his neck, and ghosted from room to room.

After a short time, confident that he knew the layout byheart, he followed the dimly lit back stairs all the way up to the unfinished attic, where—according to Maria—the senior housekeeper had occasional trysts with the shipping magnate’s chef, who was something of a ladies’ man. Having attained his goal, Agent 47 shrugged his way out of the day pack, reloaded the air pistol, and zipped the weapon away. Maybe, if he had gauged the dosage correctly, he would be able to escape without having to sedate the dog again. Especially if the guards took the animal to a vet and left it there overnight. In the meantime there was plenty of food and water in the pack along with an MP3 player to see him through the boring hours ahead.

Moving with extreme caution, he made his way over to a jumble of boxes, and crawled behind several of them. The floor was hard, but he was used to that, and found a spot that was both comfortable and defensible.

Meanwhile, one floor below, the man Agent 47 was planning to kill was wide awake and staring at the ceiling.

Even though things were going well for him, and he had every reason to be happy, it felt as if ice-cold fingers were clutching his intestines.

Why?

There was no way to know—and the hours seemed to crawl by.

PATRAS,GREECE

Sunlight sparkled on the surface of the bay, and a powerful speedboat carved a long white line through the blue water as it towed a bikini-clad teenager past the
Jean Danjou
’s lofty stern. The young woman waved, and although Mr. Nu waved back, Diana didn’t.

Which wasn’t too surprising, given the controller’s official status as a prisoner, and the chrome bracelet that encircled one of her shapely ankles.The leg iron was connected to a stanchion by a six-foot length of stainless steel chain intended to keep the woman from diving off the ship and swimming ashore. A long pull, but a feat that Diana thought she was probably capable of.

However, the bracelet and chain were really a kindness, a way to let Diana up on the deck, rather than keep her confined in the brig below. More than that, a sign that Mr. Nu was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, even if many of The Agency’s board members were already convinced of her guilt and eager to see her punished.

But Diana found it difficult to sit at the linen-covered table and soak up the Mediterranean sun knowing that the last days of her life might be ticking away. Even though Agent 47 claimed to have knowledge of who the real turncoat was, the assassin was inSintra,Portugal , and hadn’t been heard from since his meeting with Nu.

Was that because he had followed the wrong lead?

Because he was dead?

There was no way to know. So as Diana surveyed the harbor and took a sip of chilled wine, death was very much on her mind. The controller wanted to live, but knew that she, like every other member of the human race, was one day going to die.

The only question was: When?

A uniformed crew member approached the table. He was dressed in a short-sleeved white shirt, matching shorts, and deck shoes. As with all of the other crew members he was careful to ignore the ankle bracelet and chain.

“There’s a phone call for you, sir,” the crew member said respectfully. “Should we put it through?”

Everyone was aware that Nu coveted the hour between five and six. It was when he liked to sit on the stern and enjoy an uninterrupted cocktail. So, given the fact that the people in the control room had seen fit to send a messenger, the call was probably important. Mr. Nu sighed. “Who is it?”

“Agent 47, sir,” the crewman answered.

Diana felt her heart leap, and saw her companion’s eyebrows rise.

“Patch him through,” Nu instructed. “I’ll take the call.”

“They already have,” the messenger said expressionlessly. “He’s on line two.”

The phone was already on the table. All the executive had to do was to push the appropriate button. Diana was grateful he put the call on speaker.

“Agent 47?”Nu inquired. “I must say, it’s about time.”

The assassin kept his voice low, which led Diana to believe that he was in a position that could be compromised.

“Sorry, sir, but I’ve been busy.”

Nu glanced at Diana.

“Don’t keep me in suspense, 47. What, if anything, have you been able to learn?”

“I still believe Thorakis is the man that we’re looking for…but I haven’t been able to find proof. That’s where you come in.”

Nu frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Here’s what I want you to do,” 47 explained. “Tell all of the board members—including Thorakis—that I know who the traitor is, and that I’m on my way to kill that individual. But don’t identify anyone by name. And find an opportunity to let the name ‘Hotel Central’slip out. It’s an establishment that Thorakis is bound to recognize.

“If our man is innocent, he won’t do anything at all. But I’m betting that he’ll phone his contact within the
Puissance Treize
and beg for help. When that help comes, I’ll be waiting. And
that
will constitute the proof we need.”

“And then?” Mr. Nu wanted to know.

“And then Mr. Thorakis is going to have an accident,” the assassin responded flatly. The sun was on the edge of the horizon by then, and Diana felt a sudden chill. She lacked a sweater, so she wrapped her arms around her torso instead.

“I like it,” the executive replied coldly. “I like it very much. But be careful. Assuming things go the way you expect them to, the people the
Puissance Treize
send will be very, very good. Do you need help?”

“Thanks,” 47 replied. “But no thanks.”

“All right then,” Nu said. “Keep me informed.”

“I will,” the assassin assured him. “And I have a message for Diana….”

The executive looked from the phone to the controller and back again.

“Yes? What is it?”

“Tell her she owes me.”

Diana was about to reply when she heard a
click,
followed by a dial tone. She deserved to die for some of things she had done.By most people’s standards anyway. But maybe, just maybe, a guardian angel was about to save her.

If so, he would be a dark angel, sent from a place other than heaven.

Chapter Nineteen

THERHINERIVERVALLEY , NEARCOLOGNE,GERMANY

A large banner had been strung between two of the weather-beaten columns that were evenly spaced along the front of the sun-splashed terrace. It read HAPPY BIRTHDAY NICOLE, in big blue letters. Colorful groupings of balloons bobbed here and there, a long narrow table occupied the center of the space, where dirty plates and the half-eaten remains of a very expensive birthday cake could still be seen. Children squealed with excitement as they chased each other back and forth, completely unaware of the dark deeds that had been carried out within the castle during the last five hundred years, or the blood money requiredto purchase and maintain the fortress now. And even though some of the adults who were seated around well-set tables knew about such things, they too were lost in the moment. Pierre Douay’s daughter, Nicole, had just turned seven, the children were enjoying themselves, and it was a lovely day.

Such was the scene when the phone inDouay ’s pocket began to vibrate. The Frenchman didn’t want to answer it, but that particular number was known to less than thirty people, every one of whom was extremely important in one way or another. SoDouay swore silently, went inside in order to get away from the noise, and eyed the incoming number.

The call was from Aristotle Thorakis, a man the executive had come to detest, but was still in a position to provide the
Puissance Treize
with valuable information. Which was the only reasonDouay thumbed the device on.

It was like opening a floodgate.

“Pierre?” Thorakis demanded emotionally. “It’s a disaster, I tell you. An unmitigated disaster! A man named Agent 47 captured one of your people, a Moroccan I think, and found out about
me!

“Agent 47 reported in and he’s on his way to
kill
me! I need protection,Pierre .
Lots
of protection—and I need it
now.

Douayhad always been able to remain calm, even when those all about him were losing their nerve, and began his analysis by cross-checking the known facts.

Al-Fulani was missing, and had been for more than a week, which seemed to lend credence to the story. Couple that with the failed attempt on Agent 47’s life, and that individual’s reputation for tenaciousness, and there was the very real possibility that the Greek was correct.

But why protect him? Especially given how annoying the shipping magnate had become. The answer was glaringly obvious. Thorakis was into the
Puissance Treize
for 500 million euros.A significant sum that might go unrecovered if the Greek was killed.And what then?the executive wondered. Who would the partners blame? That, too, was glaringly obvious.

Besides which, there still might be a great deal of valuable information to extract from the annoying man’s brain before they decided whether or not to kill him.

“Stay where you are,”Douay ordered. “I’ll send a team.A good team. They’ll kill 47. Then, with him out of the way, we’ll pull you out of Sintra. The Agency will be angry, but we’ll cut a deal with them.”

“Really?”Thorakis inquired hopefully. “You can do that?”

“Of course I can,”Douay replied confidently. “Don’t worry about it. Just stay where you are and wait for my people to arrive.”

The shipping magnate was grateful, almost too grateful, and the Frenchman felt a sense of disgust as the Greek told him where the assassin would be staying. Then the line went dead. The next part was easy, as a two-person hunter-killer team was taken off an assignment inPrague and redirected to Sintra.

Once that chore was out of the way,Douay had to face something more difficult. He needed to activate the alternate identities that had been established for his wife and children, years before. Once that was accomplished he would send them to the retreat inFrench Polynesia and prepare for the reprisals that were sure to follow. Even if the
Puissance Treize
were able to eliminate 47 and protect Thorakis, The Agency would come looking for someone to kill. And Pierre Douay’s name would appear near the top of the list. While Legard, ironically enough, would be relatively safe in prison!

It felt as though the sunshine had lost all of its warmth as the Frenchman stepped out onto the terrace. The laughter sounded discordant, and the smiles looked false.

That was the moment whenDouay realized how exposed the terrace was, how easy it would be for someone to shoot Nicole from a thousand yards away, and he called to his guests. The party was over.

Chapter Twenty

SINTRA,PORTUGAL

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