One Rough Man (36 page)

 

 

IN CRYSTALCITY, Lucas’s team was gearing up for another run at Pike and Jennifer. Even though last night hadn’t paid off immediately, it looked like it had worked in the end.

Lucas’s research assistant was furiously working the computer to gather all data on “Four Courts” and hotels near Metro stops in the D.C. area.

Lucas was giving instructions while the men got their kit on and equipment organized.

“We know they’re taking the Metro, which means they’ll be walking to the linkup. We’ll need a trigger position outside. We’ll set up two shooters at Four Courts”—Lucas paused, staring at his research assistant—“wherever the hell that is—hurry the fuck up, Jerry.”

“I got it, I got it. It’s an Irish pub in Clarendon, right across from the Arlington Courthouse. I’m doing a quick scan of the surrounding area.”

Lucas continued. “The two shooters there will be the primary killers. They’ll be located at the nearest cover and concealment from the pub. Two others will be mounted in a vehicle. On the trigger’s call, they’ll approach and conduct a random drive-by shooting. The intent is twofold: One, camouflage the killing of the girl and Pike. To that end, you need to spray rounds loud and long. Two, to drive Pike and the girl into the real shooters. At the first shot of the drive-by, Pike will immediately take cover, moving to the nearest alley or other protected position. That’s where the primary shooters will be located.

“Make sure you all take the same caliber of weapon. I don’t expect a full-on ballistics check, but the cops will think something’s funny if three innocent civilians are killed by a nine-mil in a random drive-by, while two others are dead from forty-cal fire.”

Mason cut in. “Why not just smoke them with the drive-by? Make it simple?”

“If you can kill them from the car, so much the better, but I’m not counting on it. This guy’s good and will probably be able to get out of the line of fire. I’m counting on his survival instincts to get his ass. Mason, you’re the trigger. You need to pick them up at the Metro and follow them to Four Courts. More than likely that means the Orange Line stop by the Arlington Courthouse. Don’t get compromised. Remember, this guy probably has spider sense. Do everything by the book. Use your judgment on when to make the call for the drive-by team. Jerry, you ready? We need to do some timing analysis.”

Jerry turned on the overhead. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

He pulled up a Google Earth image of Clarendon, Virginia, with several markers embedded. Using a laser pointer as if he were about to discuss stock prices, he began, giving a complete overview of the target area. From there, the team spent the next fifteen minutes coming up with a hasty plan, using the skeleton they had created the day before. Once all the questions and answers had been exhausted, and everyone was comfortable with his respective role, Lucas took back over.

“We’re out of time. Any other questions? I know this is fast, but that’s why you guys are making the big money.” When no one spoke, he said, “Let’s saddle up.”

H
earing a soft knock on her door, Jennifer woke up. She saw Pike standing in the connecting doorway, the light from his room showing he was dressed.

She stretched, saying, “Where’re you going? What’s up?”

“Kurt called. He wants to meet right now.”

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”

Pike hesitated, not sure how to break the news. He decided just to say it.

“Ethan’s dead. He died last night.”

Jennifer brought her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my God. What happened?”

“I don’t know. I’m hoping to get some answers from Kurt. I’m headed to Clarendon to see him.” He paused again. “I have to go alone. I’m going to be talking about a lot of old unit business. Kurt won’t talk with you there.”

“That’s it? You tell me a man I met last night is dead, then switch gears to the meeting with Kurt? What about Ethan’s family? Have you talked to them?”

“I haven’t talked to anybody. I just found out ten minutes ago. Anyway, nobody will contact the family until the family lets the Taskforce know it’s okay. I’ve been here before. Some wives want a lot of support; some just want to be left alone. Once that’s sorted out, we can do whatever we think’s best. I’ve got to go.”

“Don’t you think we should be doing something to help out his family? I don’t even know them and I feel like I should help.”

“Please don’t fight me on this. There’s nothing we can do right now. I’m not doing anything until I talk to Kurt. This might have something to do with our visit.”

“
What?
What do you mean by that?”

Pike backtracked, sitting next to her on the bed. “It’s just a big damn coincidence, is all. Look, you have to trust me on this. I can’t stay. I’m running behind as it is. Please don’t leave the hotel. I’ll be back in probably two hours.”

Pike exited to the hallway through her door, not returning to his room. Jennifer sat on the bed in a little bit of a daze, still absorbing what he had said. It didn’t seem real. Outside of going to a funeral for her grandmother, and one high school friend who died in a car crash, Jennifer had had little experience dealing with mortality. Now it seemed like death was stalking her everywhere she went. Whatever she touched turned to ash.
Why would Ethan be dead?
It wasn’t fair. He had a wife and a family. He didn’t do anything to deserve this.
But neither had Uncle John. Or Pike when he lost his family.
She closed her eyes.
Please don’t let it be because of me. Please, please.

Her mind clicked on where Pike was headed, snapping her eyes back open. He might think Kurt was a peach of a guy, but she wasn’t so sure. Yeah, Pike was a one-man wrecking crew, but what if he was moving into a trap laid by a bunch of guys just as good as him? He wouldn’t even recognize it because of the trust he placed in the Taskforce. She grabbed her phone and dialed his number. She listened to it ring in her ear, then realized she could hear it ringing in his room as well. She jumped out of bed and went to his room through the connecting door. She saw his phone on the nightstand next to his bed.

“Damn it!”

She ran back to her room, ripping through her clothes in an attempt to get dressed before he got on the elevator. She left the room bare-footed, running to the foyer, but Pike had already gone down.

 

 

HEADING TOWARD CLARENDON, I realized I had run out of the hotel so hastily I’d left without my cell phone.
Stupid, stupid mistake
.

Not only could Kurt not contact me for anything, such as changing the meeting time or location, but I couldn’t make sure that Jennifer was safe. I thought about returning for it, but knew I didn’t have the time. If I missed this meeting with Kurt, I might not get another chance.

By the time I got to the Orange Line I saw I was running late, causing me to worry about missing Kurt. He had stressed he had little time.
Should’ve never gone into Jennifer’s room
. I paced back and forth, staring at my watch every few seconds like that would speed things up. Finally, the train arrived.

Luckily, the Court House stop was the first one past Rossyln. I exited the train at a trot. Glancing at my watch, I saw it was 11:03.
Shit. Kurt’s probably already called. Probably leaving Four Courts right now.
I broke into a run.

Exiting the Court House stop I could see the Four Courts pub about a hundred meters away on Wilson Boulevard. Two people were outside it, neither of them Kurt. If he had left in the last couple of minutes, I should be able to see him
. Maybe he’s still there
. I waited for the light to change, allowing me to cross the street. After two seconds, I had had enough of waiting. A break in traffic presented itself, and I sprinted across. I continued to the entrance at a fast walk, straining to see if Kurt left the pub.

My attention was jerked to the street by a car swinging onto Wilson Boulevard at a high rate of speed, tires squealing fast enough to produce smoke. I saw the car immediately slow down, the right side window lowering.

I watched a man wearing a ski mask stick his head out, looking like an IRA terrorist in Belfast.
What the hell?
I stopped walking, processing the scene and preparing to react. The man stuck a Heckler and Koch MP5 out the window, aiming it at a couple to my front. He let the MP5 rip, spraying the front of Four Courts with rounds. Both the man and woman were hit instantly, spinning and falling to the ground.

Time stretched out, moving at half speed. I assessed my options and realized I was in serious trouble. I was standing in front of the plate-glass window of Four Courts with no protection in sight, nothing at all to stop the rounds that were about to tear into me. I knew my best bet was an alley to my rear about thirty feet away, but from the time of the first round until now, I computed that I wouldn’t make it there before I was hit.

The man was still spraying rounds on full automatic, the bullets shattering the plate glass to my front, stitching toward me like a sewing machine. I saw the man’s gun hand begin to lose control from the recoil, giving me a sliver of hope. The car continued forward at a slow rate of speed, only fifteen feet away.
Take him head-on.
If I was wrong, I was dead. I launched myself at the vehicle, watching the man’s eyes widen as he saw me coming. He tried to swing the weapon directly at me instead of shooting rounds at the front of the building. I beat him by the blink of an eye. Just as the weapon was about to cross my body, I closed my hands on it.

Jerking upward, I tried to rip the MP5 out of the man’s hands, the weapon cycling with the rounds blasting skyward, inches from my head. The man fought me to regain control, and almost succeeded, when his driver decided to accelerate, causing the weapon to be wrenched out of his hands. The car hurtled forward with its tires squealing again.

I watched the vehicle race away, then scanned for any other danger. I caught movement over my right shoulder and trained my weapon on the threat. A man was exiting the alley I had passed on my way to the pub. The same alley I had been going to use for cover. He had a pistol in his hand and was looking for a target. I let loose with the remaining rounds in the MP5’s magazine, chipping the bricks around him and forcing him to retreat back down the alley.

The air was split by the sound of sirens approaching. I looked at the couple shot earlier, seeing the man sitting up holding his shoulder. The woman lay on her back, rolling left and right, her abdomen sprouting a red stain, dripping on the concrete. I knew I should help them, but had to make a hard choice. My conscience screamed for me to stay, but the man in the alley told me this wasn’t random, and that I was the target. I decided to leave the scene. I dropped the weapon and took off at a dead sprint back to the Metro station across the street.

T
wo blocks away, Lucas was on an encrypted radio trying to get a handle on what had occurred. “What’s the status? What happened?”

Mason came through first. “The target came alone. The girl wasn’t with him. He didn’t give me time to set up. He came out of the Metro at a dead run. I didn’t have time to give the mounted team a warning order. By the time I called, he was almost at the pub. The mounted team was forced to rush, alerting the target that they were coming before they could engage.”

The mounted team cut in. “The psycho didn’t run for cover like you said. He ran right at us. He grabbed my weapon right out of my fucking hand. We were forced to exfil.”

Lucas cursed. If they were lucky, Pike would think it was a random drive-by. That would be a break, but wasn’t assured. The hope was crushed by the next call.

“This is shooter one. I saw what occurred with the mounted team. I tried to get a clean shot but was compromised. He suppressed my fire with the weapon from the mounted team.” Shooter one’s clinical description broke down. “He came close to fucking killing me. I didn’t get off a shot.”

Lucas dropped his mike in frustration. Pike definitely knew it was a setup now, and that he was being hunted.
Shit. This operation just went from easy to almost impossible
. Picking up his cell phone, he called Jerry. “Did you find the hotel they’re at? Next to the Metro?”

“Lucas, there are about five hundred hotels next to Metro stations. There’s no way I can neck it down without more information.”

K
URT TORE OUT OF THE FOUR COURTS PUB, trying to ascertain what had occurred. Seeing no sign of Pike, he moved immediately to the wounded civilians, honing in on the woman as the most seriously hit.

“You’ll be okay. Help’s on the way,” he said, conscious of approaching sirens. He began initial first aid, checking her airway and putting direct pressure on her wounds as an ambulance screamed to a halt beside them. Paramedics leapt out to conduct triage.

Kurt told them what he knew, then walked away before he got tied up by the police. He pulled out his cell phone and called Pike’s number. At the sound of a woman’s voice, he was about to disconnect, thinking he had a wrong number. Then he remembered.