The Last Operation (The Remnants of War Series, Book 1) (33 page)

Chapter 49

William Taylor didn't even realize he paced the length of his office on the 45th floor of the new Federal building. He waited for the arrival of his second in command, Conboy and the new bodyguard/enforcer.

Something chewed at Taylor's gut, a sense of foreboding, some missing piece at the edge of his subconscious, nagging and worrying at him. It was that Damned Richard Daniels. Rollie had screwed up big time when he allowed Daniels to live, back in Mexico. It'd cost the big, stupid bastard his life, thought Taylor. He was sure that Daniels had killed Rollie in the Everglades, even if they never found the body. Christ, he thought, you can never find anything in that forsaken swamp. Especially not Richard Daniels and those people he ran with. It was going on two months now and still nothing from all those teams out there, searching.

And now, right out of the blue, as if he was mocking him, this E-mail from Daniels. Taylor looked out over the Capital. Fog had rolled in and the early fall chill settled over Washington DC. The mist obscured the usually magnificent view from his office rendering the outside in shades of gray. Senate confirmation hearings on his new appointment were scheduled to begin in just a little over a week and now he had to deal with Daniels. Taylor smirked with anger as he read the printout of the E-mail. It'd come on the classified access line from Langley bearing his previous code name: PARADOX-CONTROL—communications with that heading were intercepted by people he had in place at the Agency and forwarded directly to him. His attention had been riveted by the name of the sender: TALON—Richard Daniels' old code name.

From: TALON

To: PARADOX CONTROL

In possession of vital sensitive information regarding Bio-Gilbert and other matters. Most confidential and most urgent. Complete turnover of sensitive issue materials to be accomplished at cost of 5Mil + total release. Safeguards in place. Will require face-to-face at my choosing. Reply with secure cell-phone number for details.

Taylor believed he'd properly secured his tracks. He'd been meticulous about that. Daniels had been the only flaw in the otherwise perfect covers and labyrinths of distance he'd placed between himself and the activities of his group. But now, at this time, with tremendous power about to be handed to him, he could not chance that questionable material about him would be presented to some doddering idiot Senator elected solely because of their ability to bring the pork back home. While Taylor had mostly contempt for the legislators, he knew that if the confirmation hearings got bogged down it would probably mean the end of his nomination.

The soft chime of his secretary's intercom announced his visitors had arrived. She ushered them in his office and left, shutting the door behind them with a soft whispering noise.

Taylor turned around and faced the newcomers. He didn't sit nor did he invite them to sit in any of the luxurious leather seats that flanked his desk. Conboy looked as he always did, with restrained energy and sharp features that Taylor knew would remain expressionless even as he ordered a killing.

The new muscle was something else. What the hell was his name again, thought Taylor, Baxter or Dexter, or some such name. There was something strange about him and Taylor realized what bothered him about the new man.

His eyes.

There was no expression in them any time they'd met. The man's eyes were so dead they belonged in a jar somewhere. It always looked as if no one was ever home and all the man's skills operated on automatic like some robotic killer. Two things amazed Taylor about the man. The first was his incredible skills with firearms. He carried a 41 Caliber custom-built Colt automatic. The weapon had an elongated barrel and flared magazine handle that held sixteen rounds. Taylor had seen him draw and aim the weapon so fast that it just seemed to appear in his hand out of thin air. The man fired so rapidly, the spitting explosions of the gun had sounded like a continued loud exhalation. All sixteen rounds had gone in a grouping no wider than a few inches. He had repeated the very same action five times with the same results.

The second thing that was disconcerting was his face. He had the looks of a baby-faced, slightly pudgy and innocent adolescent. You simply could not tell that the soul of a deadly killer resided beneath those blank eyes and dewy cheeks.

Taylor handed the printed E-mail to Conboy who read it slowly.

"Daniels?" asked Conboy, looking up.

Taylor nodded, turned and stared out the window for a moment. No one said anything. Finally he turned back toward Conboy and spoke while tugging at the gold cuff link on his French sleeve.

"Yes, Daniels. He should have been killed with Gilbert in the Everglades. He should have been killed a few years back in Mexico. That idiot Rollie should have killed him. Hell,
You
should have killed him when he located Gilbert."

"It's not that easy," replied Conboy. "The bastard is good. He keeps landing on his feet. Can't we track this E-mail on reply or something?"

William Taylor chuckled, a dry sound devoid of any humor.

"Oh I'm sure we could," he replied. "We can pretty much pinpoint the origin of the signal. We know it's a satellite uplink to a laptop. And when we do, do you know what we'll find? It originated somewhere in the godamned Everglades. By the time we get there, all you'll find is some bushes, mud and snakes. He won't use his uplink from his camp. That's one area you'll never find. Hell you've had half a dozen teams rotating back and forth on location and you haven't even been able to see his shadow."

William Taylor turned back to the window and stepped behind his desk. He sat heavily in the oak and leather chair and waved the two men to take a seat.

"No. More of the same won't work. We've got to be smarter than Daniels. First thing, I have to know what he knows. Exactly what information does he have? We're going to string him along, agree to his demand, find out what information he's got and kill him one way or the other."

Chapter 50

When Richard Daniels received the reply, he'd already shaved his beard and resumed his normal appearance. He showed up at Billy's Marina in a borrowed airboat and went directly to the storage hangar and drove out in his Camry. Two separate teams shadowed him, alerted by the miniature transponders they had planted in the automobile chassis. One car preceded him and another followed just out of sight. He headed down US1 and turned south on Highway 4 toward Naples with no attempt to conceal himself. He drove directly to the Naples airport, parked his car in the long-term lot and purchased a ticket on the red-eye to Reagan International. He breezed through security carrying only a cell phone and personal items. It was three thirty AM when he landed at Reagan International, Washington DC.

* * *

A weather front had passed during the night and the morning sun practically glowed through the picture windows in William Taylor's office. It was nine thirty and Conboy was giving Taylor an update on Daniel's movements.

"Daniels showed up the previous night at Billy's Marina in Everglades City. He made no attempt at concealment. We tracked him to Naples Airport where he took a late flight to Washington. One of our men got on the plane with him and I had three teams waiting at Reagan International. As it turned out we didn't need all that manpower. He walked directly to the Hertz counter, rented a car then drove to the Airport Hilton and took a room. He paid for everything with a credit card from an outfit called Hogden & Derek. We're in the process of checking out that connection."

"What's he doing now?" asked Taylor.

"Sleeping."

"Sleeping?"

"Uh, yeah, sleeping. We had one of our people dress as maintenance staff and bug the room—audio in the telephone and visual inside the television, through a peephole in the case. He showered and went to bed. Still sleeping right now. Surveillance will alert me if he so much as coughs."

Conboy paused. When Taylor remained silent, he continued speaking.

"Why don't we just pick him up? I've got so many assets around him, there's nowhere he can go. We've got him cold. He can be taken to one of the safe houses. We'll use drugs for starters. We'll know everything by dinnertime."

"Don't underestimate him. You've made that mistake once already. He will have some mechanism in place that will deliver the information, the proof he claims he's got, into the wrong hands. I have to know what he has before we can move."

"So you want us to just sit tight until he calls you?"

Taylor nodded and swiveled his chair to face the windows as Conboy left the room. Just two days from confirmation, forty-eight hours before entering the portals that would lead to ultimate power and this shit had to happen, he thought. Suddenly Taylor could feel the walls closing in. He had to get out of the office.

* * *

It was nearly eleven when Richard Daniels awoke. He showered, dressed and had a leisurely brunch in the hotel dining room. After checking out, he went to his car and made the first call from the parking lot. Taylor answered immediately.

"Taylor."

"Talon here," said Daniels. "You've got the cash?"

"I will by this evening. You have the information?"

"I have it."

"How do I know you're the only one who has it? How do I know that once you get the cash and the hounds are called off, someone else won't step in with the same info?"

"You don't," replied Daniels. "What you have to understand is my motivation has changed these days. I just want to be left alone and retire in peace without your goons breathing down my neck. You need an element of trust there, buddy. Just like in the old days, remember?"

"Alright," said Taylor. "I agreed to the terms, Let's get it done. Come to my office on..."

Daniels cut him off with a laugh.

"Not a chance old boy," said Daniels. "I'll go in the front door and leave the back way in a box. No thanks. I'll tell you where we'll meet. I only want you and Conboy. You know I would have no problems handling you both. I want you and Conboy to verify the information and bring a suitcase with the five mil."

"I need a third person, our accountant. He'll handle the cash."

"Okay. Bring your bean counter. Just remember, you only get one chance. If I sniff so much as a whiff of anything going down, I push the panic button. Twenty-four hours later five news bureaus and two federal agencies will receive overnight envelopes stuffed with interesting information. If I fail to report at prearranged times, same thing happens."

"Look, I already agreed," said Taylor. "Let's get it done."

"Stand by your cell phone. I'll call you with instructions in four hours."

Chapter 51