Noble Intentions: Season Three (10 page)

So Jack decided that the best
option was to wait for the moment when preparation and opportunity met. Random
chances had to be ignored from now on.

He began to feel the need for a
partner now that a third party had become involved. He was concerned that MI5
had been added to the mix. He couldn’t discount that MI6 might be involved as
well since they were the agency that monitored worldwide events and likely
notified MI5 to his presence.

Who could he get to help? His
closest trusted option, Pierre, was laid up in a hospital in France. Although
Jack planned to visit the man after he completed his work in London, he knew
that the Frenchman would be of no use to him in this situation.

Jack reached inside his coat and
retrieved his cell phone from an interior pocket. He dialed a familiar number,
placed the phone to the side of his head, listened to it ring. He glanced up
from the road and noticed at the last possible moment that the traffic light
had turned red. He slammed on the brakes, reached for the steering wheel with
both hands, dropped the phone. The car screeched to a stop halfway into the
intersection. Horns blared, old men stared. One waved an obscenity at him. Jack
waved back, then lowered his hand down between his knees and felt along the
floor for the cell phone. It didn’t take long to find it. He looked at the
display and saw the cell was still connected, so he pushed the speaker icon.
Still ringing. Jack kept the line connected and it kept ringing, never
diverting to voicemail.

Finally, he hung up and redialed.
Perhaps he’d hit an inadvertent number last time.

The line connected, rang. No
answer. No voice mail.

“Come on, Bear,” Jack said. “What’s
going on?”

He knew what was going on, though.
He had dialed Bear’s forwarding number. In the past, it had always rang to
whatever phone the big man had on him. It was obvious that Bear had removed the
forwarding. Now it rang into emptiness, drifting away like a wayward asteroid
that had recently passed by Earth and been sling-shotted around in orbit,
hurled back out toward deep space.

He couldn’t blame Bear. The man had
found peace in his life, had Mandy to live for. Her life had been at risk twice
because of Jack. It was in Bear’s best interest to stay away from him.

Still, Jack figured that perhaps
there’d been a mistake with the forwarding number. So he did something he’d
never done before. He dialed Bear’s personal number direct.

The line didn’t ring though.
Instead, there were a series of tones and then the voice of a woman who’d
probably been dead for twenty years came on the line and told him that she was
sorry because the number he was trying to reach had been disconnected. And,
unfortunately, there was no more information available that she could provide.

Now this didn’t mean that Jack
couldn’t reach Bear if he wanted to. He still had connections that could find
anyone, anywhere. But it was obvious that his friend had moved on and wanted to
maintain his distance and obscurity.

It was for the best, probably.

Jack decided that in a few months
he’d find Bear. At the very least, he wanted to make sure his old partner
received his cut of their earnings.

That left him with no one to turn
to, except for maybe Leon. Dottie trusted him, which meant that Jack should be
able to as well. Her opinion had held weight with him in the past. This time
was different, though. He couldn’t place his finger on why though, and he
couldn’t shake the feeling.

The other option was asking Mason
for help, whether from the man himself, or one of his agents. But that’d be a
dead end. Jack knew it. They were willing to pay him to do the job so they
could distance themselves. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask, though. Maybe it
would result in Mason recommending someone from outside his organization.

So Jack had three choices. Work
alone, work with Leon, or work with an unknown agent. Each presented positive
and negative aspects. Leon had Special Forces experience and that could not be
discounted in a situation like this. It didn’t mean he was a perfect partner,
though. Jack had been around many guys who fit the same profile, and rarely did
his and their methods mesh. Anyone Mason knew would have a background similar
to Jack’s, which meant they might be able to follow his methods without too
much instruction. The problem was he didn’t know if Mason was trustworthy, and
anyone he provided might be there to spy and give a firsthand account back to
MI5.
Boom, roasted
was the thought that came to Jack’s mind.

Working alone was the only option
that made sense. If something went wrong, Jack would be the only one
responsible and he’d only be accountable for himself. Better that way, he
figured.

He spotted a hotel a block ahead,
on the right. He slowed down, pulled into the lot, parked behind the hotel.
Twenty minutes later he was in his room, on his back, close to asleep. The cell
phone rang, the one Dottie had given him. He answered it without first checking
the number.

“It’s Leon,” the man said. “I have
the things you requested. Where are you?”

Jack told Leon the name of the
hotel and Leon said he’d be there in a half hour.

Clarissa averted her eyes in time
to avoid the stare of the older man dressed in the designer suit. She entered
the house. He exited. She felt him leering at her, even after she passed. She
felt certain if she turned her head, she’d see him looking back at her.

“Hello, doll,” he said.

She smiled, nodded, didn’t look
back.

“I said hello.”

“And I heard you.”

He said something else, but she’d
already passed through the foyer and turned down the hall that led to Naseer’s
office. He had called her a few moments before and told her he wanted to see
her. Fortunately, she was close to home. She did not want to have to answer to
where she’d been all day.

The hall lights were dimmer than
normal. The hallway felt muted, warm. She took a few deep breaths before
reaching his office, then stopped shy of the door. She straightened her shirt
and slacks. She felt silly doing so. She knew that Naseer watched the hallway
on his computer monitor.

Clarissa heard the door unlock. She
reached for the knob and pushed the door open and stepped inside. Naseer didn’t
look up as she entered his office. He nodded once while his stare remained
glued to his monitor.

“Who was the old guy?” she asked.

“Just an old guy,” he replied.

“Was that the British asshole?”

“I thought I was the British
asshole.”

“You are, and I’m guessing he’s
your twin?”

Naseer laughed and his gaze broke
free from the monitor.

“I think his suit alone cost more
than my entire wardrobe,” she said.

“You do wear some rags.”

“Yeah, but I make those rags look
good.”

“That you do.”

“So, what did you want to see me
about?”

Naseer glanced back at his screen,
clicked his mouse a few times while jerking it side to side, then returned his
focus to Clarissa. “I have a meeting in the morning.”

“With that old guy?”

“Why are you so interested in him?”

Clarissa shrugged. “No reason. He
just seems…different.”

“He is different. Anyway, he is of
no consequence. The reason I am telling you about my meeting is that I am
likely not going to return for a few days. They may need me elsewhere, just for
a little while.”

“OK.”

“You may want to consider traveling
for a few days. Perhaps take the train to Paris and replace those rags you are
wearing.” He reached down and pulled open his middle desk drawer. He smiled,
reached inside, pulled out a wallet and placed it on the desk. “There’s about
fifty thousand in euros and traveler’s checks in there. That should cover your
expenses.”

Clarissa took the wallet and
stuffed it in her purse without inspecting it. She suspected it contained a bug
or a tracking device.

“Why can’t I stay here?”

“It might not be safe.”

“It’ll be safe when you get back?”

“Safer than when I’m not here.”

“Are you worried about external
forces? Or internal presences?”

“Sometimes I think you are too
sharp to be with me.”

“You’re probably right.”

Naseer leaned forward. “Go on,
leave me. Book your ticket as soon as you get back to your room. I want you to
leave first thing in the morning.”

“Yes, sir.” Clarissa rose, left the
room. She felt him watching her on his monitor as she made her way through the
halls to her room. He had every square inch of the place covered. That probably
included her room. Would he watch her all night? She figured he had better
things to do, but she wouldn’t take any chances with the wallet until she’d
left the house.

So she opened a drawer and placed
the wallet in the back, under a stack of shirts. That would make it difficult
for a bug to pick up anything she said.

Ten minutes later she had booked
her train ticket to Paris. Whether or not she was going was another story. She
needed to check in with Sinclair and update him. He might have something she
could do tomorrow. Calling him from the house scared her, though. Naseer was a
paranoid man. And rich. Very rich. The combination of the two meant he had
nearly every inch of the place under surveillance. She’d combed her room and
found nothing, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t something there. Even the
bathroom had to be considered risky.

She decided to take a walk. She
stuffed her cell phone down her pants and left her room and navigated through
the house, taking a route that limited her exposure and reduced her chances of
running into Naseer. She passed Samir near the foyer and said hello. Aside from
returning her greeting, he ignored her.

She stepped outside into the cool
evening air. The sweet scent of cherry trees in bloom enveloped her. They lined
the quarter-mile long driveway and littered the property. Pink blossoms, dark
and pale, floated through the air like bloodstained snowflakes. Clarissa
dragged her feet along the ground, creating trails. The bare space quickly
filled in as fresh blossoms landed.

Mindful of lingering too long, Clarissa
started down the driveway. The further away from the house, the better. She
reached the end of the driveway. There she turned right and walked another
block. Aside from one passing car, the street was deserted. She pulled out the
cell and placed her call.

Sinclair answered.

“I need to know what you know about
Jack Noble being over here,” she said.

“Funny,” Sinclair said. “I was
going to say the same thing to you. How did you find out about that?”

“Naseer was on the phone and
mentioned his name.”

“What does Naseer want with him?”

“Nothing. It was whoever he was
talking to. The guy wanted Naseer to dig up any information he could find on
Jack.”

“OK, then. Well, shortly after you
last saw Jack, he received a call asking him to do someone a favor.”

“He’s here to kill someone.”

“Presumably.”

Clarissa knew there was nothing to
presume. People didn’t have Jack travel four thousand miles for nothing. She
couldn’t tell if Sinclair knew the details and chose to withhold the
information from her. She sure didn’t plan to offer up the information that
Brandon had divulged to her the night before.

“And I’d recommend you stay away
from him, Clarissa. No good can come from getting mixed up with him over there.
You’ll blow your cover, and we’ll have to start over. Correction, I’ll have to
start all over. You’ll find yourself in Alaska for three months.”

“Yeah, yeah. Nothing’s getting
blown, don’t worry.”

“What else can you tell me?”

A heavy gust of wind blew by,
carrying with it a wave of cherry blossoms. Strands of her hair covered her
face. She tucked them behind her ears while waiting for the breeze to die down.

“Big meeting tomorrow. Something is
going down. He wants me to go to Paris for a few days.”

“Interesting.”

“You know anything about it?”

“No. Do you?”

“Not really. Ran into some older
British guy when I returned today. I believe he’s involved in some way.”

“Got a name?’

She decided to feed one piece of
information to Sinclair in hopes that it would get the man to reciprocate.
“Walloway. I remember hearing the name Walloway.”

There was silence on the other end,
and Clarissa figured Sinclair had punched the name into his computer and now
waited on the results.

“That ring any bells with you?” she
asked.

“Thornton Walloway,” Sinclair said.
“He’s a billionaire, made a lot of money from a glass company. We believe he
has terrorist ties, but nothing has ever been proven. He’s stayed pretty clean,
although there was an incident last year in Monte Carlo.”

“What happened?”

“Um,” Sinclair clicked his tongue
against the roof of his mouth three times. “Domestic issue.”

Clarissa said nothing.

“Well, if he’s involved with
Naseer, or anyone else for that matter, he is quite discreet about it. Anyway,
I need you close to that meeting.”

“I don’t know how. He gave me a
wallet with a lot of cash. I’m guessing the wallet’s bugged. Probably stuck a
tracking device in there.”

“Tell you what, Clarissa. If I can
find out where this meeting is, I’ll have someone meet you at the train
station. You give them the wallet and then you go to the meeting.”

She didn’t like the sound of that.
“If he spots me near there then this whole thing is over.”

“You’re right, you’re right.
Dammit, we’ve got to get eyes on this meeting.”

“Let me reach out to Jack. He can
help.”

“Not a chance. He’s not right for this
kind of work anymore, Clarissa. You involve him, you are going to get him
killed. Might get yourself killed, too.”