Wings of Steele - Flight of Freedom (Book2) (11 page)

BOOK: Wings of Steele - Flight of Freedom (Book2)
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The doctor sighed, he turned and looked over his shoulder, “It's that house down there,” he purposely did not point.


There are many houses dat way, please to be more specific, Doktor.”


The smaller one with the wood deck.”

Colonel Restonovich leaned on the rail with his elbows, “Dah, I see,” he puffed on his cigarette, “is anyone dere now?”

“I have no idea. All I know is two girls live there.”


No man?”


No, I think it's the man's sister, but I'm not sure.”

The Colonel nodded, “Sister is good... we can do sister.”

Brodermeyer had no clue as to what he was referring to but he really didn't care and he really didn't want to know. “So we're done then?” He just wanted Restonovich to leave.

Viktor smiled, flicking the lit cigarette butt onto the patio and crushing it out with the toe of his track shoe, watching the doctor flinch, “For now Brodermeyer, see you tomorrow, dah?”

“What?”


Tomorrow,” he repeated, heading into the house through the expansive opening of the sliding glass wall. “Very nice,” he admired, drawing out another cigarette and lighting it as he walked through the house.


Wait, wait, wait,” stammered Brodermeyer, following the Russian, “t-t-t-tomorrow? W-w-w-why tomorrow?
You
said we were done...”


Well you have
finally
paid for product...” he said waving the envelope in the doctor's face, “but you owe, how you say... interest - and we are being kind to take it for trade. We will watch from here, the house with deck.”


T-t-t-that's not possible,” Brodermeyer looked like he was approaching a breakdown.


Not to worry,” countered the Russian, flicking an ash on the marble floor of the foyer, “you will not notice us, I promise. We will be like mouse in corner. We use spare bedroom, no problem...”

'Us, we? What us? B-b-b-bedroom? You can't p-p-possibly stay here,” trembling, the doctor gripped the doorknob to steady himself as he watched the Russian walk toward the waiting Hummer.

 

■ ■ ■

 

The lawn guy standing in the grass on the corner lot with the weed whacker, edged the already perfect lawn without any line in the machine he was using; the other man mowing the grass had no blade under his mower. The straw hats and dark sunglasses they wore hid their faces well enough for them to anonymously watch the silver Hummer as it passed by. “Grass One, silver Hummer, occupied twice, echo, three two, zero, papa, delta...”

“Copy that. That's our boy... he visited the target?”


That's affirmative, about a twenty minute visit.”


And the package...?”


Grass Two, never visible.”


Beach One, they came out onto the patio, apparently to view package location.”


Copy that... was the package visible to them?”


Negative, no outside activity.”


Copy that. I think we're done for the day, looks like the Smiths are home, let's wrap it up. They can take over, the cameras are positioned and operational.”

A maroon European sedan rolled down the side street, turned the corner past the lawn maintenance truck as the landscapers packed up their yard tools to quit for the day. The sedan turned sedately into the driveway of the corner house, pulling into the garage. No one would have noticed the eye contact and acknowledging nod passed between the workers and the occupants in the sedan.

■ ■ ■

 

Nina kicked off her shoes in the foyer as she closed the front door behind her, “Hi honey, I'm home,” she joked. “Holy crap I'm bushed. The Tarringtons had a party over the weekend... there must have been kids all over the place, you wouldn't believe some of the places I found peanut butter smeared.” Lisa Steele laughed as Nina padded barefoot into the kitchen. “It took me forever to clean that house up...
Mmm,
smells
amazing
, watcha' cooking?”


Homemade lasagna, green bean casserole, garlic bread and salad...”

Nina inhaled deeply, “Wow, heavenly... y'know, I
know
you like doing the internet auction thing and your sales do well, but you really ought to consider catering - I think you would be so fantastic at it. We could work together on something like that...”

Lisa looked up from the salad she was preparing, “I thought you said you couldn't cook?”

Nina waved her hand dismissively, “I can't, hell, I burn
water,
” she plucked a slice of cucumber out of the bowl and popped it into her mouth. “And you don't want me near sharp pointy things,” she added, pointing at the knife Lisa was using, “but I can serve and I can clean. We'd have it all covered...”

Lisa shrugged, “I don't know, I really enjoy cooking - I love to experiment. I just worry that if I was doing it for a living I wouldn't enjoy it anymore...” She cocked her head and Gus, her German Shorthaired Pointer, bounced up off the floor, pointing toward the front door. When the doorbell actually rang it still surprised them.

“I'll get it,” Nina headed for the door, Gus padding alongside her. Looking through the narrow side glass she could see a pizza delivery car parked at the curb and the young delivery man standing at the door with the hot-bag. “It's a pizza guy...”


They're always getting lost down here...” commented Lisa, “find out where he's supposed to be.”

Nina turned on the outside light and opened the door, Gus peeking out around her thigh.
“Pizza,”
he announced before she could speak. He tore a piece of paper off the top of the box and held it up just high enough to display the message written in bold marker. “Here's your receipt ma’am,” he added. She read it, thanked him, took the pizza and closed the door as he trotted off to his car.
“Lisa,”
she called, standing in the foyer staring at the pizza box and the note, “who's
Phil Cooper
and why did he just send us a pizza?”

Lisa appeared next to her without the benefit of a magician's cloud of smoke, grabbing the note and pizza, making Nina jump, “What the fuuu...
Phil Cooper...?”
She stared at the short note written in marker;
Take this free pizza, do not talk to the driver - Phil Cooper.


So, who is he...?”

Lisa still stared at the note, “A friend, sort of...”

“I wonder what kind of pizza it is.”


Huh?” Lisa snapped out of her trance, “I don't know... this is awful odd,” she laid the pizza box on the counter and opened the top.


A cell phone?” Nina shook her head, “I don't get it...”

Lisa picked up the plastic bag off the top of the pizza containing a cell phone and folded letter, unzipping it and pulling out the letter.
Your house is under surveillance, we need to talk. Eat dinner then take the dog for a walk at ten o'clock near the water's edge. I will call on this phone. Shred this letter. Phil Cooper.
Nina tried to read over Lisa's shoulder but she nonchalantly turned to block Nina's view. She folded the letter up, pocketing it and closed the box laying the cell phone on top, still in its bag. “Let's eat dinner.”


Lisa, what's going on? What is it?” Nina searched Lisa's face. Her mind seemed to be in another world, “Is he an old boyfriend or something...?”

Lisa smiled, “No nothing like that,” she dished out neatly cut stacks of lasagna onto two plates. “Let's just say it's old family business... cop stuff.” She wondered how long she could put off the inevitable; she could foresee a near-future event where it would become necessary for her to enlighten Nina about certain things that might be a little hard for her to absorb.
One step at a time...

Nina nodded, she knew there was a long line of law enforcement in the family and she could only imagine some of the secrets they might be keeping. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know what they might be or not.

 

■ ■ ■

 

The gentle surf washing across her bare feet, Lisa stood at the water's edge watching Gus slosh ankle-deep in the water. She glanced anxiously at her watch and even though she was watching the second hand sweep towards ten o'clock she still jumped a bit when the phone rang in her pocket. Her heart thumping nervously she answered, “Hello...”

“Don't talk, just listen. When you speak, speak quietly. No names - ever. Don't ever place a call with this phone and don't go anywhere without it. Finally, and only in an extreme emergency, dial; star-pound-9-1-1... wait till it rings once and hang up. Do you understand everything I've said?”


Yes...” she eyed a jogger run past on the upper edge of the hard packed sand, “I understand.”


Good. I see you've been
carrying
, don't go anywhere without that either. Now about your roommate, can you trust her?”


Yes.”


Are you sure? Your life may depend on it...”


Yes.”


OK, good. Down to business - you and the house are being watched...”


By who?”


Don't interrupt. And it's not important. What
is
important is that there's a lot of activity in your neighborhood, you're not the only one under surveillance, but you are being watched by more than one group.”


What do you mean it's not important? Are they good guys or bad guys?” She looked around nervously.


Relax. Stop being so jumpy and act natural. You're just out walking your dog on a regular phone call... think
Men in Black
.”

Men in black?
She wasn't sure what that even meant - yet. “So what do I do?”


Keep to yourselves, stay inside for a couple of days and for God's sake, stop using that
gizmo
you've got, they're trying to track the signal...”


Who's tracking... wait, you knew I had a...”


Yeah, but I can't tell you any more than that. And if you decide to discuss any of this, find a room in the house with no windows, or a parabolic mic can pick up your conversation...”


What about now?”


The noise of the surf, running water, blender, loud stereo or television, things like that help disrupt reception. Also, assume your home phone is not secure - same with your cell phone.”

By the time the call ended her head was swimming. She looked up and down the beach, she was sure he could see her but it looked deserted. Had the jogger just been a jogger? She walked slowly back across the beach to the deck, Gus circling her with his favorite Frisbee. Was the pizza guy just a pizza guy? All of a sudden everyone she saw throughout the day became suspect... mailman, people on the beach, landscapers, lady walking her dog... she felt slightly nauseous.

 

■ ■ ■

 

Lisa decided it was time; Nina was going to have to know what was going on. If things went sideways it would be better for her to be mentally prepared and understand what was at stake. She felt Nina's eyes on her as she re-entered the house from her walk at the water's edge and tried to project an air of calm - though she wasn't so sure she was pulling it off. She toweled off Gus' legs and he danced around with his worn Frisbee.

“Everything OK? You look a little...” Lisa shot Nina a look and putting finger to lips, signaled her to stop talking, waving her to follow out to the garage. They climbed into Lisa's little SUV parked next to Jack's Cobra, closing the doors. “OK, you're being a little weird and it's starting to freak me out.”


Sorry,” began Lisa, fighting a wave of paranoia that the events had unleashed. “You're right, there's something going on and it affects both of us.” Threatening to overrun her common sense and posing serious trust issues, she fought it back, “The man who called...”


Phil Cooper?”


Yeah, he's with the FBI...”


I remember him now,” interrupted Nina, “he was the suit that visited when Jack showed up...”

Yeah, well he wanted me to know we're being watched...”

“What? Wait, wait... why? And by who?”


I wasn't really clear on that, he said something about men in black and there was more than one group...”


What the hell does that mean?”

Lisa shook her head, “I don't know. But what he was clear about was that we were to stay put for a few days. So, no work for you the rest of the week, you stay home.”

Nina groaned and stomped her feet on the floor of the SUV like a child,
“No no no,
I have houses to do... I'm going to lose clients.”


No you won't. You call them, tell them you're sick and need to stay home. You'll get back to them next week... ”

Nina sighed, laying her head back on the headrest, letting her body go limp, “Something tells me this is all your brother's fault...”

 

■ ■ ■

 

Doctor Brodermeyer shooed the maid away and answered the door himself, mustering all the courage that he had as he opened the door. “Colonel...” his voice trailed off, he hadn't expected the entourage to be quite so large.

Viktor Restonovich pushed the door open and shouldered past the Doctor without saying a word, the six other men following him into the house, bags in hand.

Brodermeyer did his best to be forceful and commanding but it fell well short of its intended mark, “Victor this is unacceptable...”

Restonovich adjusted his fresh gray track suit and leaned close so he only had to whisper, “Do not make me to do something
you
regret Doktor.” Brodermeyer tried to back away from the noxious cloud of cologne, but met the frame of the large Russian standing behind him. The Colonel ceremoniously lit a cigarette and blew the smoke into his face, “Now be good boy and go amuse self, we need to be working.” He motioned to the others to move out to the patio, “Go.”


I don't quite understand what you're doing here Colonel, why it's
so important
for you to spy on that house - and why I have to be
so
inconvenienced
,” he eyed one of the Colonel's men chatting with his maid Carmella, “I've had to cancel all of my patient appointments - do you have any idea how much money that is costing me...?”


You try my patience, Brodermeyer.”


What about my patience, Viktor? When do I...”

Restonovich smiled, placing his hand on Brodermeyer's shoulder, making the doctor feel a little like a mouse in the care of a python. “Let me to explain Doktor,” began the Colonel, pushing a silenced 9mm into the man's chest over his heart, “too many questions you ask...” he pinned him against the wall in the foyer near the front door.

“Oh p-p-please no,” wheezed Brodermeyer, “I am just curious, I would never tell anyone, I promise... I-I-I never meant I didn't want you here...”


Nyet, I know Doktor,” he replied quietly. The man began to cry and Restonovich's voice was soft and reassuring, “it will be OK Doktor, over quickly, sssshhhhh... no pain.”


But I don't want to die,” sobbed Brodermeyer softly, “my p-p-patients, they need me... p-p-please don't do this...”


Ssshhh, I must. Close eyes, relax – everything is fine, deep breath... no pain,” the 9mm popped softly, the slide moving and empty casing tinkling to the floor, making more noise than the shot itself. The doctor grunted like he'd been punched in the stomach, eyes flickered in disbelief. He tried to gasp for breath but he couldn't seem to draw air. He clutched his chest, feeling a warm slickness running between his fingers and found the hole in his chest over his heart. The Russian had lied, the pain was staggering. Releasing his grip on the man, Restonivich backed away and the doctor slid slowly down the wall and crumpled to the floor, his eyes searching but vacant, the life fading from them as the crimson pool grew on the floor. When the Colonel turned away, he locked eyes with the maid standing in the kitchen doorway at the other end of the house. She moved in almost slow motion, the towel dropping from her hands, her eyes wide, her mouth opening to scream, her lungs swelling with air... the silenced 9mm popped softly twice, the 9mm rounds hitting her in the sternum and face, cutting off her scream before it began, pitching her lifelessly backwards onto the tile floor of the kitchen. He regretted having to shoot the girl; she was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. But there could be no loose ends.

 

■ ■ ■

 

Having spent most of the day inside playing video games, the afternoon was just simply too beautiful not to spend a couple hours on the deck sunning with a frosty drink in hand. Fairly private, the deck was surrounded by palm trees and foliage except the side that faced the water. The girls had rationalized that they had never really left the house per se and the deck was acceptable, surmising that the safety of the house was only a step or two away.

Lisa had started dinner, padding around the kitchen in her bathing suit, Gus napping on the cool tile floor of the kitchen's dining area. The sun was low and Nina strolled through the open sliding glass doors from the deck, followed by a salty breeze and the smell of coconut suntan lotion. She threw her towel over a chair at the table and slid the door closed, “Mosquitoes and no-see-ums are starting to come out...” She plopped her butt down on the toweled chair, yawning, “What is it about beach air and sun that makes me want to yawn and take a nap?” She sipped her drink and stretched her arms over her head, yawning again. “Oh my, I can't stop!”

Lisa laughed, “Wanna set the table while I finish this up?”

Nina bounced up, “Sure! Mmm, smells great...” She took the dishes Lisa handed her over the counter.

Gus jumped to his feet, spinning around to face the glass doors, woofing softly. Being too gentle and timid, he wasn't much as a defense dog, but when he did alert it was for good reason. “What's that about...?” Nina set the short stack of plates on the table, “hey, there's three guys coming up on the deck...” Gus barked more aggressively, something he was not known for.


Lock the door, lock the door!”

Nina flipped the latch and jumped back as the first man reached for the door handle, his gray velour track suit spattered with what appeared to be spaghetti sauce stains. “Do not be afraid,” he urged, “I am friend, we need to talk...” Pulling the handle roughly, the heavy glass door rattled on its tracks, the latch - not fully engaged, let go with a pop, the door sliding open and slamming against its stop. Nina was caught by the arm as she tried unsuccessfully to backpedal around the table and chairs, the dog circling the men barking, chairs clattering to the floor. Gus valiantly did his best to look menacing, his teeth clacking at the calves of the big man who kicked at him, sliding a chair across the floor at him. Gus hopped over it effortlessly and was back for more. He had landed nary a tooth mark on the man but it was unnerving enough that the man lunged at him, the dog dancing away and out of reach. The man with the gray track suit fought to hold onto Nina's slippery, skinny frame as she twisted, kicked and fought. His hands thoroughly covered in suntan oil, one more good twist and she wrenched herself free from his grip, spinning herself away and falling to the floor. Scrambling to get away, the man in the gray track suit grabbing at her ankles. Gus raced around the table, jumping over the fallen chairs and grabbed the man's forearm, releasing him when he pulled away.

Lisa's hand was on her 9mm Glock sitting on the counter, hidden from the men by the back splash and taller breakfast counter, “Nina
in the office!”
She produced the 9mm in a practiced combat grip, as Nina scrambled past. “Get the
FUCK out!”
She screamed, bringing the sights up to bear on the two men. Simultaneously there was glass breaking in one of the bedrooms behind her and the skinny glass panel next to the front door.

Nina screamed from the end of the hallway,
“LISA..!”

The men in the kitchen area took the opportunity to rush her in the moment of distraction. She backpedaled down the hallway snapping off two quick shots missing them both as they stumbled over the persistent Gus, piling up on the floor. The dog yelped as he ended up on the bottom of the pile, biting someone on the leg hard enough to elicit a yell from its owner. He squirmed out from underneath, dancing away as the men untangled themselves. “Gus
COME! C'mon baby...”


Behind you..!” s
creamed Nina.

Lisa tried to spin but he'd come out of the bedroom on the left and bear-hugged her from behind, breaking the two-handed grip she had on her pistol. He was strong and she couldn't turn or push back as he lifted her off her feet. The men in the kitchen were upright again, joined by another man coming from the foyer at the front door, Gus between them and her, backing down the corridor, barking with total abandon, spitting foam and slinging drool. The man in the gray tracksuit was swearing in Russian, a pistol with a silencer in his hand. Squeezing her so tight her vision was narrowing; the man behind her whispered in her ear, “Pretty girl, we have good fun, dah?” Time seemed to slow down and her reactions seemed to speed up. She flung her head back, missed his nose but caught him in the side of his jaw clacking his teeth together. He squeezed harder, threatening to break her ribs, “Nyet, play nice bitch...”

Still gripping her Glock, she spread her dangling feet and fired several rounds at the floor below her, shattered tile and bullet fragments splashing like explosive shrapnel, shredding his shoes and blowing through his feet. He hollered, staggered, loosening his grip and toppled over backwards, taking her with him. She could hear and feel the solid
thwack
of his head hitting the tile floor behind her, his grip going immediately slack. Lying on top of him, she fired between her feet at the men, who stunned into momentary inaction, had to throw themselves in different directions to avoid the hail of bullets flying down the hallway at them. She rolled off her human cushion and scrambled toward the office at the end of the hallway screaming for Gus to follow. Just short of the doorway,
Mr. Sleepy
grabbed her by the ankle, “Nyet, you stay...” Looking over her shoulder, she reached back with the Glock and fired, hitting him in the face, his body going limp and his head hitting the floor with a sickening hollow splat. The magnitude of gore caught her by surprise and she wanted to wretch but the quick realization that this was not over, put her back in motion again. Two rounds hit the door above her with a solid
thwunk
as she scrambled through the opening, pulled by Nina who slammed it closed, locking the deadbolt. Lisa whirled around to confirm Gus had made it in; he sat in a corner, huffing, exhausted.
“All dogs go to heaven...”
she said looking down at the Glock in her hand, the slide locked back, magazine empty.


Hello Lisa Steele, command code accepted...”
said the distinctly female voice.

Nina looked at Lisa vacantly, like a deer staring into the headlights of an oncoming truck,
“what?”

A mechanism inside the red brick wall at the back of the office clanked, the bricks in the back wall showing an uneven toothy edge on two sides as about a three foot wide section of the wall moved evenly inward, carrying the framed painting hung on it, along with it for the ride. The darkened opening grew deeper as the section of the wall disappeared inside. In a brief moment, lights winked on inside, the brick wall sliding back on tracks, the floor molding and crown molding in the office unmoved, part of the door frame. The floor and ceiling in the next room were at the levels of the office's moldings, the rails for the heavy door imbedded in them.

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