Blood and Roses (Holly Jennings Thriller) (28 page)

“You really think he plans to kill the sheikh?”

“Probably. Yes.”

“How does Ted Ivy fit with Bradley? How do they know one another?”

“I’m not sure. I’d bet that Bradley got Ivy out of jail. He’s a patient man. I’ve gone over the Ted Ivy story. This guy was framed. Plus he got burned in that fire, and I learned that an inmate tried to take him out while he was in prison. Cut his face.”

“We found an IM exchange between Tieg and someone in the prison about that. It mentioned that he’d been brutalized in prison. Tieg tried to have him killed,” Holly said.

“Yeah. I think Bradley bought Ted Ivy, an innocent man, who I believe was coerced into a confession on the arson because Tieg and his associates had the cash to make that happen. Bradley purchased Ivy a new face and a new identity, and I think he’s using him to kill. And his endgame may be for Ivy to kill the sheikh. Bradley was an expert target sniper. I mean, this guy could have taken out a fly from a hundred yards away. My guess is,—since he and Ivy have been planning this thing
together
for some time—Bradley schooled Ivy in sniper techniques.”

Holly shook her head. She felt as if there was something more. Something they were missing. “Why have Ivy murder others, then? Why the jockeys, especially?”

“Tommy and Katarina were exactly what the note said—sacrificial lambs,” Jack said. “They were meant to throw off the police just enough to buy Bradley time. He’s framing this guy to take the fall. The notes that led your partner, Chad, to the Carpenters’ song and then the movie trilogy about the end of the world, that was for real for Bradley. It wasn’t as subtle as it appeared. Bradley knew that he needed to make Ivy look Unabomber crazy. If a peacemaker from the Middle East who spends a good share of his time in the United States is assassinated, imagine what that would create around the world.”

“It’d cause chaos.”

“Bradley likely believes that it will cause more than chaos. He’s hoping it heats up tensions, and he’s also hoping to further the war and have the country get behind it.”

“What does he get out of this?” Holly asked.

Jack shrugged. “Ego, power, who knows? A sociopath like Bradley may think he’s going to run the world. He actually said that to me one day. A few days before…”

“Before what?”

“I can’t talk about it. It’s too hard. All I can tell you is that he claimed the world would be a better place under one world leader and that he aimed to make it happen. That he planned to be that leader. I thought he was joking. Now I’m not so sure, Holly. I think he meant it, and I think he believes it. If he causes destruction, or causes harm to anyone, I’ll never live this down. I should have been more emphatic with my people about what I thought this guy could become.” He shook his head and looked out the window.

“Do you think Bradley has Ivy set up so that can we find him
after
he assassinates the sheikh?”

“I think that yes, he wants us to get Ivy quickly. He’ll want Ivy to tell his story. Ivy is the perfect patsy to commit these crimes, from Bradley’s perspective. If I were Bradley, my thought process would have been like this: Ivy loses his wife on September eleventh, so he’s looking to blame someone. He’s also going after the guys who sent him to prison. Bradley is banking on the fact that Ivy looks like a guy who’s gone rogue, whose rage is just escalation, and who is going to further piss off the Middle East by his action. Maybe start a larger war. Being that the sheikh is a big deal in both parts of the world, it’s not a leap to expect people to believe that Ivy would take him in a misguided revenge plot.”

Holly shook her head. “When I thought that Ivy was still in jail, I had this strange idea of him being like Hannibal Lecter, and I wondered who his Buffalo Bill was. Ironic. It was the other way around. Ivy is Bradley’s Buffalo Bill. How do you think they planned to get past all of the security?” Then it hit her. “Oh my God.”

“What?” Jack asked.

“Bradley Systems. Edwin Hodges mentioned the security system in his home was the best. I noticed the name on the alarm panel in his house. The logo was shaped like a Q. And there’s something else. Oh my God. I missed it. Can I get cell reception up here?”

“You may be able to get through, but you’ll probably have better luck with a text.”

She looked at her watch. It would be nine at home. She took the chance at sending the text, hoping Amar would get it. She recalled a name with Bradley in it when she scanned the investor list Hodges had handed her, which she’d then given to Amar to follow up. She knew that was probably a low priority for Amar, as the case had escalated since then, and he’d been looking into PAAC and Gershon. Who would have thought that anyone who invested in the track would be orchestrating these killings? She furiously typed out a text:
Is there anyone on the investor list with the name Bradley in it?

About ten minutes later, Amar responded.
Yes. A Bradley Quentin.

“BQ!” She looked at Jack. “Bradley Quentin builds security systems and he invested in the Infinity.”

Jack shook his head. “He used his last name for his first name, invested in the Infinity. What a brilliant son of a bitch. Think of it—he’s out in the open, playing the role of financier and security planner. How would anyone in the world ever suspect that this guy would be gunning to kill Farooq?”

“We have to stop him,” Holly said.

“We will.” Jack dialed a number on his cell.

Holly held up crossed fingers.

A few seconds later, Jack gave her the thumbs up, indicating he had reached his contact. “Paul, can you hear me okay? Good. I think we have an ID on our man. He goes under the name Bradley
Quentin now. Wealthy investor who…get this…owns a security systems company. I’m sure of it. Look him up. Get all you can. I have a feeling, Paul. I do.” He hung up the phone. “There will be a ground team meeting us at the airport, and I’m certain that agents are working on this already. We will find Bradley and Ivy. We’ll do it together.” He stood and went to the back of the plane, where he opened up a closet and took out a carry-on bag. He came back, unzipped it. He pulled out a Glock 22. “I know you’re comfortable with the nine, but if you need to take someone out…this will get the job done.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“We’re a good team, Holly. We always were.”

The plane touched down at McCarran International and was directed into a private hangar. Jack’s words of partnership echoed in Holly’s mind and hung between them.

70

Three other agents met them when they landed at the airport. Jack had informed her they had come in from Los Angeles. One was the woman Holly had seen Jack with at the restaurant in Lexington. Young, long dark hair, bright brown eyes, porcelain complexion. Her name was Samantha, but Jack called her Sam. The other two were introduced to Holly by their first names only—Paul and Alex.

Paul was the older of the two men. As they sat in the back of the car on their way to the track, he opened a file and handed them each photos of Bradley Quentin, formerly known as Darren Bradley. “We went to work on this as soon as we got your call, Jack. This guy is a big deal, so I sure in hell hope you’re right about this.”

“I’m positive it’s him. I know damn well and so do you that Bradley always had a major hard-on about taking down the Middle East at all costs. On top of that, he’s crazy. He is truly fucking crazy. I knew this guy. I worked side by side with him, and his Armageddon rhetoric in those last days he worked for us was almost all he could talk about.”

Holly looked at Jack, knowing exactly what he was feeling, and if this had been ten years earlier, she would have taken his hand and reassured him that he was right.

Paul did the reassuring now. “That’s why we’re here, Jack. You’re good at what you do. Samantha, Alex, and Holly will need to start searching the grounds immediately and see if they can find
Ted Ivy. He won’t be in the open. He’s going to be high up somewhere. You believe that Bradley trained Ivy in sniper techniques?”

Jack shrugged. “He was the best. That would be his MO.”

“We have a map here of the most likely places that would offer a direct shot at Farooq once he’s in his seat. We already have other agents sweeping the area,” Alex said. “There’s a chance that Ivy could be on low ground and that’s why we thought the three of us should be on ground level searching for him.”

Holly couldn’t help but notice how young the man was. Strong, attractive, but he couldn’t have been over twenty-five. Who were these guys? What agency did they work for within the government?

They pulled up to the rear of the grandstand. It was a little after eleven and the race was set to go off at one. “Listen, we have had to be real careful with this,” Paul said. “If Bradley guesses that we’re here, we’ll never get him. He’ll run. Our guys have kept a low profile this morning.”

“How?” Holly asked. “How do you keep a low profile in a situation like this?”

Jack looked at her. “It’s what we do best.”

Point taken.

“Everyone have their weapons?” Paul asked.

Holly nodded. The Glock was tucked in her holster. Everyone else said they were prepared.

“If you spot Ivy, call for backup,” Jack said. He showed Ivy’s photo to the others.

Two men in suits waited as they parked. “We good?” Jack asked as they got out.

The men nodded, and one of them handed out badges that passed for security. “We have you cleared as extra security under the cover story that there may have been a breach in the barns. We’ve been able to build a story that one of the horses may have been targeted by someone looking to cause the animal harm. We
can take you through the back gates. There are men stationed at high points four, seven, eleven, and fourteen.” These were the locations that provided a direct line of fire to the sheikh.

Everyone started heading toward the gates to the back entrance. “Holly…” Jack grabbed her arm. “Wait. Just a minute.”

She stopped. “We have a job to do.”

“Listen to me, please. I meant what I said. Can’t we try this? Try to be a family?”

What she wouldn’t have given only a couple of years ago to have this chance. “I can’t, Jack. I meant what I said, too. I love someone else now.”

“But you love me, too. What happened between us, that was not just sex. It was not even closure, Holly. I love you, and you love me.”

“Of course I do!” She shook her head. “But I have a family with Brendan. I love him. I love his girls. They are my girls now, too, and Chloe…they are the only family besides me that she has ever known. I can’t change their lives because you decided that it’s time to
live
again, and because we are…we are…” She sighed. “I just can’t.”

She turned and walked through the gates of the grandstand, knowing that what she had wanted to say was that they were perfect together. They always had been.

71

The day of the race had arrived. The last day that Farooq would know life as it was. But he had a plan, and it had to be done. His conscience could no longer allow him to live this way. But before, he would allow himself one last joy. He would see his colt to the winner’s circle.

As he always did, the sheikh went to have “a talk” with Whiskey. Laugherty was there, but his jockey was not. Farooq recognized the jockey standing there and shot Laugherty a look. “What is this? Where is Mike?” he asked, referring to Whiskey’s jock—one of the best in the world, if not the best.

“Sick. Real sick,” Laugherty replied.

Farooq frowned. “I don’t like this.”

Juan Perez walked up to him. “Sir, you know my record. I like your colt, we’ve been talking. I think he likes me, too.” He laughed.

“You don’t ride my colt!” Farooq shot back. “Pull him from the race,” he said to Laugherty.

“What?”

“I said pull Whiskey from the race. None of this feels right to me.”

Laugherty shook his head. “Your Highness, this colt is meant to run this race. He is meant to win. He will win. Mr. Perez here is a very adept jockey. This horse is easily adaptable. I respect what you are asking me to do, and I’ll follow your orders, but I sincerely
feel that Whiskey is going to win this race, that he wants to run this race, and that your colt will go down in history.”

Farooq looked at the men, weighing his options. He nodded. “Fine. Now leave me. Leave us.”

Laugherty and Perez left as Farooq had asked.

The sheikh closed the stall door, his elegant, long robes hanging loosely around him. He placed a hand on the majestic animal’s neck and rubbed him. He walked around to the rear of the horse, where he rubbed his hands over the lucky white stocking. The inflammation was not evident. He came around to the front and slipped a treat from his pocket into Whiskey’s mouth. The colt’s soft nose twitched over the sheikh’s palm, making certain he got every last morsel of the treat.

The sheikh leaned his head against the horse’s face, tears in his eyes, and said, “I am so sorry, so very sorry. Win this for us today. For you. Win because you can. Because you are the greatest of all horses.” He backed away, breathed into the horse’s nostrils and then took a deep breath in, as was their custom. He drank in the animal’s soul and then stood back, looking into his warrior’s eyes. This would be the last time he would ever again be this close to the horse. The deal had been made. When this was over, Whiskey would be going with Elena Purdue. It had to be this way, he reminded himself again. The world needed to know that his son was evil, and so was Naqeeb Waqqas. They needed to know what had happened to Wallid Waqqas, a man whom Farooq had loved desperately.

Everyone needed to know that Naqeeb had been using Farooq as a cover to wash dirty money from heroin. It was money used to grow poppies in Afghanistan. The poppies were turned into heroin to be sold on American streets, the profits of which were used to fund terrorist activity. Farooq had unwillingly played a major role
in terrorism. He could no longer take part in such evil, and his life as he had known it would now be over.

He had just placed a call to the one man he thought could help him. He only knew this man by his first name—Jack—and knew that he worked for an American intelligence agency. He had spoken with Jack on a few occasions. The man had questioned him once about his son and about Naqeeb, but Farooq had covered for them. He was finished lying.