Cause For Alarm (35 page)

Luke rubbed the side of his jaw, rough with morning stubble. “I don't know that yet. I'll meet with my contacts, ask their advice. They'll be able to give us some direction. I know they will.”

“Thank you, Luke,” Kate said, voice quavering. “I don't know what we would have done without you.”

“Not so fast.” He flashed her a quick grin. “Wait until we've gotten this bozo taken care of.
Then
you can thank me.”

C
ondor responded to Luke's message within forty-eight hours. The man agreed to meet him, choosing an all-night diner near the Hobby Airport.

Luke arrived early. He made his way to the rear of the diner, taking a booth against the far wall. He slid onto the vinyl seat, the upholstery cracked and peeling, held together in places by clear packing tape.

A waitress of no less than sixty took his order of a cup of coffee. The fluorescent lights tinted her gray cap of curls a vague, disturbing green and turned her skin sallow.

She brought the coffee immediately, plunking it onto the table, then without saying a word, walked away. A burned, bitter odor wafted up from the cup, and Luke wondered how long the brew had been sitting on the burner. An hour or two? Three, even?

Possibly, he decided, perusing the room. The diner's only other patrons were a burly man in overalls and two twenty-something girls who were wolfing down patty melts, French fries and colas.

Condor arrived, walking through the door exactly at the arranged time. He made his way to the booth and slid into the seat across from Luke, angling his back to the wall.

They exchanged pleasantries; the waitress brought another cup of the bitter brew, then Luke cut straight to the matter at hand. “A friend of mine's in trouble. I need your help.”

“You know the business I'm in, Luke. Exactly what form do you wish this help to take?”

“The form of advice.”

The barest of smiles touched the mechanic's mouth. “Go on.”

Luke laid out the entire story for him. “The man's name is John Powers,” Luke finished. “Do you recognize the name?”

For long moments, Condor remained silent, his steady gaze giving away nothing of his thoughts.

Finally, he nodded. “I know of him.”

“But you've never met him?”

“No.” He took a sip of the coffee, not seeming to notice its taste. “They try to keep us guys away from each other.” Again, that small smile touched his mouth. “The last thing they'd want is us sitting around the clubhouse swapping stories. But I have heard of him.”

“What have you heard?”

“That he was one of the Agency's best and most lethal mechanics. Specialized in the most, shall we say, delicate wet work.”

“Delicate,” Luke repeated. “You mean sensitive, politically charged?”

“Yes. The man is an expert in the use of all manner of weapons, as well as in hand-to-hand combat, poisons and explosives. An outstanding career until he went solo a few years back.”

“Solo? What do you mean?”

“He's a renegade. Went out on his own. Hits for hire, no matter the government or cause.”

“And the Agency allows that?”

“Up to a point.”

“And what point is that?”

Condor ignored the question and continued. “Code name was Ice. For obvious reasons. Rumor has it he killed a Colombian drug czar's six children, disemboweled them while their mother watched.”

“Holy shit.” Luke felt sick. “And our government sanctioned that?”

“Let's just say that Ice was sent in to negotiate. He was told to use whatever means necessary to get our point across.” Condor steepled his fingers. “Of course, that story's only a rumor.”

Rumor, his ass. It was true, Condor knew it. And Luke did, too.

Up until that moment Luke had hoped that Kate and Julianna had been exaggerating John Powers' abilities. The threat he posed. He saw now that they had not.

The two drunken girls stood and started for the door. Condor watched them until they had exited the diner, then returned his attention to Luke. “Your friend is in a very bad situation. And now, so are you. I suggest you bow out of this.”

“I can't do that.”

“That's your choice, of course.”

“There must be a way to beat him? A way out of this. If we went to the police, laid it all out for them—”

Condor shook his head, confirming what Luke already knew. “Going to the police will do nothing but make you sitting ducks. You'll be dead before the local boys get their heads out of their asses.”

Condor leaned slightly forward, his gaze intent. “The police couldn't find him, let alone pin a murder on him. You know how it works, Luke. No weapon, no witnesses, no arrest.”

He was right. Luke knew he was. What would he tell Kate? She had been so hopeful when he'd left. So positive.

“There may be a way, however. But it won't be easy.”

“Go on.” Luke waited, pulse hammering. He didn't care how difficult, a slim chance was better than none at all.

“It sounds to me like Powers is losing it,” Condor said softly. “Making killing personal. That's dangerous. It crosses the line.” He looked away, then back. “It'll make him sloppy. Because it's personal, because it matters so much to him, he'll take chances he never would otherwise. He might have already.”

“It'll also make him go to lengths he normally wouldn't to succeed,” Luke muttered.

“True. But therein lies your chance.” Condor lowered his voice. “The Agency won't get involved unless they believe Powers is a danger to them, their operations or national security. He's one of their own, after all. They can't have him running around the country indiscriminately killing people. Not publicly, anyway.”

Condor spoke carefully, his tone even, words measured. Luke tried to read between the words, certain the man was telling him something
beyond
their literal meaning.

Luke took a stab. “They wouldn't want their handiwork exposed, would they?”

Condor acted as if Luke hadn't spoken. “If you could prove Powers is out of control, if you could prove he's a threat to the United States government or the CIA, the Agency would bring him down.”

Condor laced his fingers together. “They'll need proof, of course. Physical evidence. Names and dates. If you can produce a convincing enough paper trail, that would do it.”

The book. Dear Lord, they had the proof.

“I can do that,” Luke said. “Right now. I've got the proof.”

Condor straightened. “Tell me.”

Luke did, explaining about Powers' black book and how Julianna had come to have it. “It's in some sort of code, but I'm sure it contains the names and dates you're looking for.”

The other man's expression changed subtly, became sharper, more intent. “Have you broken the code?”

“No.” Luke leaned forward. “Help us do it. It's our only chance.”

“I like you, Dallas. But I can't do that.” He glanced toward the diner's front door, then back at Luke. “I don't want to know what's in that book. If I did, I'd be a mark. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but someday. Besides, messing with Powers' book crosses the line, and I won't do that.”

“Then tell me how to break it.”

Condor hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Make one of the entries, use what you learn to break the rest of the code. Meet with Tom Morris. He's going to play dumb about Ice, but he's in Operations so he'll be familiar with Powers' file. Lay it all out for him, the way you did me, then get the Agency's commitment to take Powers down in return for proof of his activities. It's important that you get a commitment from him.”

“Or we'll be shit out of luck, is that what you're telling me?”

“This is the real world, Dallas. Not one of your stories. The good guys don't always win.”

Luke laughed, the sound tight and humorless. “And the line between right and wrong is rarely clear.”

“I didn't make the rules, Dallas. I only play by them.” Condor laid several dollars on the table and stood. “The coffee's on me.”

They left the restaurant. Outside, the cold, wet night curled around them like a snake.

“You never saw me tonight,” Condor said. “I'm out of this.”

“Agreed.”

“One last piece of advice. Don't let that book out of your sight. If Morris or the Agency gets their hands on it, they'll break Ice's code. Once they have what they need, you and your friends will be left high and dry. And if Powers gets it back, you'll have no bargaining chip at all.”

“And we'll be dead.”

“Yes.” Condor turned and looked him straight in the eyes. Again, Luke had the feeling the man was saying much more than what his words conveyed. “Morris will ask for the book. Expect that. But don't give it to him. No matter what he promises you. That's important, Luke. Don't give it to him. That book is your life. Do you understand?”

Luke said he did; in the next moment Condor was gone.

K
ate and Julianna were awake and waiting for Luke when he got home. They met him at the door, their expressions so hopeful it hurt to look at them. If they expected a miracle, they weren't going to get it.

“We have a chance,” Luke said. “Not easy or without risk, but a chance nonetheless.”

They went to the kitchen. Kate made coffee while Luke relayed the details of his conversation with Condor. As he spoke, Kate's expression went from hopeful to uncertain.

“Decipher one of the entries?” she said when Luke had finished. “But how do we do that?”

“I've given this some thought already and it might not be as hard as it sounds.” Luke stood and went to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup. “Since the dates entered in the book are not in code, the way I figure it, if we can find something that positively ties Powers to a place on a certain date, we can do a search for murders committed in that locale on that date.”

“And if we're lucky,” Kate murmured, “we'll find something.”

Luke met her eyes. “If we're very lucky.”

“This isn't going to work,” Julianna said, looking from him to Kate. “It's not. And then where will we be? Trapped? Dead?”

“Where will we be?” Kate repeated, bright spots of angry color staining her cheeks. “I know where I was, Julianna. Before you decided to steal my husband and ruin my life. Before you invited this…this killer through my front door.”

“I didn't know!” Julianna cried. “I never thought he would hurt you. Or Emma or Richard. Me, yes. But not you.” Her eyes filled, and she looked pleadingly at Kate. “Why would he? You never did anything to him.”

“That's just it,” Kate snapped, “you didn't think. Not about anyone or anything but yourself.”

“I'm sorry,” Julianna whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I didn't know.” She brought her hands to her face. “I'm so scared. I just want to go home.”

“And you think I don't?” Kate rounded on the other woman, shaking with the force of her fury. “I'd love to go home, Julianna. But because of you I can't. Because of you, my husband is dead. Because of you a psychotic kil—”

Luke laid a hand on her arm, stopping her. “I know you're angry, Kate. You have a right to be, but fighting with each other isn't going to do anything but make us more vulnerable to Powers. If we're going to beat him, we've got to work together.” He met Kate's eyes. “You know it's true.”

She spun away from him and crossed to the picture window that looked out over his backyard. She stood stiffly, arms curved across her middle; Luke saw that she struggled to get a grip on her emotions.

After a moment, she took a deep breath and turned back to the younger woman. “Just running is out of the question. Because we can't outrun him. You know we can't. But if that's what you want to do, you have my blessing. But I'm taking this route with Luke.”

“What's it going to be, Julianna?” Luke asked. “You have a choice. Are you sticking with us or not?”

“With you,” she whispered, wiping the tears from beneath her eyes. “I'm staying with you.”

“Then I need your help. We need your help.” He crossed to stand directly in front of her. “Is there anything you haven't told us about Powers? Anything at all, no matter how insignificant you might think it to be. It could be something you observed or overheard and thought nothing of at the time. Or maybe something he told you in the heat of the moment or mumbled in his sleep.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I've told you everything.”

“Think, Julianna. It's important.”

“There's nothing.” She shook her head again. “We had an…agreement. He never discussed what he did, who he worked for. When he went on a trip, he never told me where he went. And I wasn't allowed to ask.”

She looked away, then back. “Until the end, not knowing what he was doing or even where he was didn't bother me. I never questioned him.”

“Then you got curious,” Luke prodded. “And you started snooping around.”

“Yes. That's how I found the book.”

“What about gifts?” Kate asked, swinging away from the window once more. “What kinds of things did he bring you? Was there anything that you recall being specific to a place? You know, like chocolates from Switzerland or perfume from Paris?”

Julianna brought her hands to her ears, to the diamond studs that twinkled when they caught the light. Luke had noticed them before; the size of the diamonds had made them hard to miss. “Nothing like that,” she murmured, sounding frustrated. “He brought me these. Sometimes he would bring me a…a doll or a hair ornament. He'd bring me books. Flowers he picked up at the airport shop. Everything was generic.”

She looked at Luke, then Kate, her expression earnest. “You have to believe me. Even his apartment was plain. So without…identifying features. There was furniture, and stuff for the kitchen and bathrooms, but nothing else. Do you know what I mean?”

Kate looked at Luke. “Are you thinking what I am?”

“Powers' apartment?” When she indicated yes, he turned back to Julianna. “Do you still have a key to his place?”

She nodded. “Though I don't know why. I'm never going back there.”

“Never's a long time, kid.” Luke smiled and rubbed his hands together. “The last thing Powers will expect is for us to take the offensive. I say we have a place to start.”

Julianna looked sick; Kate determined. “Are you certain the Agency will make the commitment to take Powers down?” she asked.

“My contact thought so. If we can deliver the goods on Powers.” He looked from Kate to Julianna. “And I don't see that we have another choice.”

“I agree.” Kate turned toward the other woman. “How about you, Julianna?”

The girl hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Agreed.”

“All right, then.” Luke checked his watch, saw that it was after 2:00 a.m. and smiled grimly. “We leave for D.C. today.”