Chapter 30
Thirty
Declan
Ihave to hand it to Kurt Renner: escaping on a motorcycle is dead easy. I make it to the safe house in Pacific Heights without any signs of pursuit.
The first thing I do is make a call.
“You’ve reached Admiral Warranty. Our offices are closed—”
I punch in the code, and the line clicks.
“Go ahead.”
“Special Agent Diana Mercer, immediately.”
“Stand by.”
I seethe while I’m waiting. I don’t care if they have to wake her up, but I’m betting they don’t. And I’m right; the delay is less than twenty seconds.
“Mercer.”
“Did you pick up Renner? Did you have another team there?”
“Good evening, Maddox. Of course I did. You didn’t expect me to let him walk after pulling a job like that, did you?”
“I shared intelligence with you about that operation in good faith, Mercer,” I grind out. “Not for you to swoop in and jeopardize my entire goddamn operation!”
“Relax, Agent. Once we’ve ascertained what Renner has, you can come in. This will all be done, and you can be home for debrief and a commendation.”
Leaving Raven behind.
“What about the rest of the crew?”
“We’ll get to them in time. It’s Renner that matters. I’m going to sweat him until he discloses his contractor.”
“If you get something on him. Can you prove where he was?”
“I don’t need to,” she replies. “With your evidence and his package, we have what we need. You do have the package, right?”
I clench my teeth. “No, I don’t have the fucking package.”
“Maddox, I gave you one instruction: walk out of that vault with it.”
“Yeah? And I was getting shot at by Chinese enforcers. So excuse me for making it out alive without it.”
A long pause. “Whatever he has on him will be incriminating enough.”
I laugh, dry and mirthless. “And if he has nothing?”
“Wasn’t the operation successful? Why would he have nothing?”
“You don’t get it, do you? Renner doesn’t walk away with anything. That what he uses—” Crap, I almost said Raven. “—riders for. Cole, Dario, and the rest.”
There’s a long silence on the line. “You could have mentioned that previously.”
“I didn’t need to mention it, because it was my goddamn operation.” I force myself to take a breath. “Did you catch evidence of him jumping, at least? That will buy you some time.” And me.
“I’ll get back to you on that.”
“Wait—”
But the line’s gone dead. And it gives me my answer: she didn’t.
Shit.
Now Renner will walk, as soon as he gets to his lawyers. Then he’ll know the FBI was tipped off. And who will he point a finger at?
Fucking Mercer!
It’s too soon, but I call Raven anyway, seeing if she picks up.
“The number you have dialed is not available. Please try your call again later.”
I hang up and stare at my phone. It didn’t go to voicemail. If it had just been off, or out of signal, no rings, straight to voicemail. I’m certain of it… and take a moment to google it, confirming it. Then I call her again, getting the same message the second time.
What the hell has happened? She made the jump, I know she did.
And left, pursued by Chinese fucking enforcers. Those bastards had guns.
Could they have caught her?
I pace in the safe house, wondering what to do.
Kurt’s lawyers will get him out in forty-eight hours, and that assumes a bail posting for a misdemeanor on the BASE jump, if Mercer gets evidence. Without it, he’ll walk tomorrow.
Damn it all to hell.
There’s only one answer left: reach Raven and get that package. The package is the answer to everything.
If she’s alive when her phone isn’t responding.
My stomach twists, bile rising.
No. There has to be a hundred reasons why her phone would give that message… though I can’t think of any of them.
She has to be alive. I can’t accept anything else.
Breathe, Declan.
Think it through.
She’ll have got out and be back in LA by this time tomorrow.
Yes… that’s what’ll happen. She’ll stop for the night somewhere, too.
That’s most likely. She won’t ride six hours off the back of the day we’ve had.
A motel somewhere. There’s no rush; I don’t have to leave straight away, riding back through the city on a bike that may have been flagged close to the scene.
I’ll stay the night here. Return to LA in the morning, when it’s all calmed down a bit. Find her in her apartment, or sitting on a couch in Kurt’s unit, drinking coffee and chatting to Tasha.
Except Tasha won’t be there. She and Cammy have Cole to deal with.
Her apartment, then. Or waiting outside mine, for all that.
With nothing else to do, I flick the TV on, chewing at the inside of my cheek as I scan the various reports for any evidence she’s dead.
But the headlines are sparse: BASE Jumpers Leap From San Francisco Skyscraper in Late-Night Stunt.
No mention of arrests, high-speed chases, or shots fired.
No mention of Meridian Pacific or corporate robbery.
SFPD ‘investigating’ means they have no leads.
A footnote that the SFFD attended a ‘false alarm’ at the same building and were turned away.
All they have is some eyewitness footage of us jumping.
Raven and I are out of the picture by the time the bystanders had their phones up and recording, but there’s footage of Renner and Dario, Cole struggling with a ’chute that’s bleeding air through the holes.
None of that’s clear on the shaky, grainy film, but I can see it because I know what I’m looking for.
They won’t even be able to ID us off of phone imagery recorded at distance in the dark. No risks there.
We got away with it. Meridian Pacific buried this rather than admit they lost valuables they shouldn’t have had in the first place.
But that also suggests they’ll take revenge into their own hands.
How anonymous and protected are we? Worth asking Renner, assuming he ever talks to me again and doesn’t just send Cole to take me out—when he’s back on his feet.
None of this explains why I can’t reach Raven, and the only other number I have is Renner’s. That won’t do me any good.
There’s nothing to do but go to bed, and see if the morning brings any more news.
But I know I won’t sleep.
Ten the next morning, just as I’m heading out the door with leathers on and helmet in hand, I get a text about my car’s warranty.
“Well?” I ask, as soon as I’m transferred.
“You were right,” she says wearily, “he didn’t have anything on him. He called his lawyers and they got here early. But that’s not the worst of it.”
“Do go on,” I say sarcastically.
“Someone made a call to Assistant Director Charlton, with enough weight that it’s already rippled through. We’ve been stood down.”
“Shit!” I kick the wall.
Then I take a moment to think.
That means the goddamn CIA pulled jurisdiction. Why? What could be so important that they want Renner out?
Unless they think he had the package they want. Except he didn’t. Mercer wouldn’t have had to release him if he had. The CIA were being cautious. He was always going to get out.
This is past my pay grade. I’m fucked. No, I’m fine. Hale is fucked. But so is Raven. I even feel a surprising twinge of guilt about Cole, Dario and the others. Where the hell has that come from?
I sigh. “Seven months of an operation up in smoke.”
“Officially, you have to come in.”
“I know the drill.”
“Mmm hmm. I expect it’ll take you a few days to unwind your life there…”
No, it won’t. Usual process is to simply walk away. I frown. Mercer knows that. But she hasn’t finished.
“…if you happen to find anything along the way, that might help.”
“Uh-huh,” I say slowly. “Something like… a package?”
“Well, that would be ideal.” A pause. “You have days, not weeks.”
“Understood.”
“Any idea who has it?”
Raven. “Possibly.”
“Find it, Declan. Get whoever has it. Torture it out of them if you need to, I don’t care.”
I assume that’s hyperbole, but I can’t be sure. Her tone is edged with desperation. It’s clear the call isn’t being recorded.
“I get it.” What I get is that she’s trying to save her own ass after fucking this opportunity over six ways from Sunday. Makes me wonder what else our dear Assistant Director said to her. And what awaits me if I go back empty-handed.
“Do your job, Maddox.”
“My job, huh.” Like she hasn’t just fucked up hers.
But I’m speaking to a dead line.
I stare at my phone, Mercer’s voice ringing in my ears. Torture it out of them if you need to.
Raven, tied up, just me and her, and a few hours of… play.
Why does that idea appeal so much?
Raven’s apartment is empty. I know that even before I get off my bike: hers isn’t here.
Wherever she is, it’s not home. Or she’s been and gone.
Part of me wonders if she’s headed for my apartment instead, looking for me. Or maybe not even got back yet.
I can’t imagine it’s the latter. She wouldn’t have stopped last night, not like I did. A few hours at a motel at best. And she was heading south, hours ahead of me before I even started. No, she’s had time to get back. The question is, did she?
I try her number again, as I have every time I stopped for gas since leaving San Fran. It still tells me the call can’t be completed.
Even though it’s pointless, I let myself in and head up to her apartment.
Door’s closed and locked, no answer to a pounding.
No one comes out to see what the noise is.
Pity, really; I could do with putting her asshole of a neighbor into the wall again.
Work through some tension by taking it out on him.
My pickup is where I left it, and my thigh is aching so bad from all the riding that I switch over, dumping my jacket and helmet on the seat beside me.
Then I head for my apartment. A shower, a change of clothes. It’s seven o’clock; I can be at Renner’s unit by eight, and see who’s there. Maybe they’ll have ideas.
But my phone rings before I’ve even driven halfway. It’s Renner’s number.
This should be interesting.
“Hello?”
“Declan, it’s Kurt.”
“Shit, I’m glad to hear from you.” I hope. “Dario said you got picked up.”