Adam shifted in his seat, angling himself away from the shop’s entrance. He didn’t want his face to be the first thing the subject saw when she stepped out.
Adam waited.
And that’s when his phone buzzed.
CHAPTER 11
Number Withheld.
Adam frowned. He didn’t appreciate the disruption, but then again, the training exercise had gone on long enough. Just over thirty minutes. Nowhere near as good as his all-time record of four hours, but not too shabby either for a lazy Saturday afternoon.
Adam looked up and caught the subject exiting the store. For the first time, he allowed his gaze to linger on her arse.
Well, that’s it, then.
The game was over. He averted his eyes and chided himself for giving in to his baser instincts. It was unprofessional and reeked of sloppiness.
Idiot.
He inhaled, then answered his phone. ‘Adam Larsen.’
‘Hello, Adam.’
Adam straightened at the icy voice. He ran his tongue across his teeth, scowling. ‘Deirdre. To what do I owe the pleasure?’
‘It’s business, not pleasure. I need you to do something for me.’
Adam shook his head. ‘Whatever it is, get your daughter to do it. I’m sure she’ll be happy to oblige.’
‘She’s already on assignment. With Abraham Khan.’
‘Oh, yes. The man that everyone’s itching to get a piece of.’
‘You sound sore, Adam.’
‘Maya and I were supposed to meet for breakfast. Then she cancelled on me. Wouldn’t say why—confidentiality and all that. But I figured it was your fault.’
‘Isn’t it always?’
‘I’m out of the game, Deirdre. I don’t work for you anymore. I don’t answer to you anymore. So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get on with my day—’
‘Sure. Picking random subjects. Following them around for hours. Just to see if you can.’
Adam felt his cheeks twitch. ‘No. I’m not going to explain myself to you.’
‘You don’t have to, Adam. There’s a huge difference between stalking for practice and stalking for real. And stalking for practice is truly beneath you. You’re a scalphunter. A tracker. And I’m going to give you the chance to do it for real.’
‘I can’t. My appointment book is full.’
‘No, it’s not. I had an analyst hack into your computer. Your schedule is blank. No clients lined up.’
Adam felt his throat cramping. His fingers went white as he squeezed his phone. ‘Has anyone told you what a menace you are?’
‘All the time.’
‘You need to stay out of my stuff and stay out of my life.’
‘I will if you pipe down and listen up.’
Adam chuckled and shook his head.
Deirdre continued, ‘Right now, Abraham Khan and his wife are holed up in the Pacifica. Secure as can be. All well and good. But I want... no, I need to be prepared for all eventualities. Yes, we’ve got Echelon, and yes, it’s a wonderful tool for threat assessment. But it’s no substitute for good old-fashioned human intel. Adam, you know the streets. You have the contacts. I want you to keep your ear close to the ground. See if anything’s rumbling below the surface. And if something is rumbling, I’d like you to find, fix and, if necessary, finish the problem. Does that suit you?’
So there it was. The three F’s. Find. Fix. Finish. Just how long had it been since he’d operated under those terms? Not since Kuala Lumpur.
Adam bit his lip and drew a semicircle on the pavement with his foot. The ducks scattered. Kuala Lumpur had been a god-awful mess. An op compromised from the start by too much interference from those who knew too little about fieldwork. And yet Adam alone had taken the fall for the whole thing. Yeah, Deirdre could have stood up for him. She could have come out of her corner swinging. He damn well expected her to. But, in the end, she didn’t. She chose the path of least resistance—political expediency—and excised him from Section One.
Sure, he understood why it had to be done.
He understood why he had to be the fall guy.
But, hell, he still wasn’t at peace with any of it.
‘Well?’ Deirdre asked, cutting into his thoughts. ‘Are you in, or are you out?’
Adam thumbed his nose. This was his chance to square things. ‘Fine. I’m in if you double my usual consultation fee.’
‘Done. And if it makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, it’s coming out of my own pocket. Section One just doesn’t have the budget to accommodate freelancers.’
‘Good to know. Now bring me up to speed.’
CHAPTER 12
A media swarm had descended on the Pacifica. Noah drove in a slow loop around the block while Maya checked out the crowd clustered outside the hotel’s entrance. Security guards—big, sturdy guys with buzz-cuts—had been posted to keep the reporters from getting into the lobby.
Maya could see a lot of frustrated faces. Out on the street, police officers kept traffic moving, waving drivers on, banning anyone from lingering. But they couldn’t do much about the onlookers rubbernecking on the sidewalks.
Maya pursed her lips. ‘Only a handful of the press are local, aren’t they?’
‘Yeah. Most are foreign correspondents. They’re meant to be covering the economic summit in Wellington. But it looks like they’ve been reassigned to Abraham.’
‘More newsworthy.’
‘Way, way better for the ratings.’ Noah drummed his fingers on his steering wheel. ‘Dashiell and Arthur will be meeting us in the loading dock around the back.’
‘Great.’
Noah exited the street, rounded a bend and entered an alley. Pigeons scattered and took flight. That’s when Maya saw them—men sitting on motorcycles parked up on the pavement just ahead. They jerked to attention as the SUV approached, their cameras raised and flashing like strobes.
Maya stiffened, her hand going for her gun. For a split-second, she thought she was looking at gunfire.
Noah scoffed. ‘Paparazzi pricks.’
Maya stared at them as Noah drove past. She allowed herself to breathe, her hand dropping away from her gun. Through the tinted windows, she could see them, but they couldn’t see her.
Shifting in her seat, she craned her neck. Were they following the SUV? No, apparently not. They seemed content to stay exactly where they were.
Maya glanced at Noah. ‘Static surveillance. Good choke point. They sure know their stuff.’
‘Smart buggers, aren’t they? They’ve got every ingress and egress staked out. There’s no way Khan can leave the hotel without them knowing.’
‘I didn’t know he qualified as a celebrity.’
‘His wife does. She hosts that children’s cooking show.’
‘Belinda Freeman?’
‘It’s Belinda Freeman-Khan now. She’s popular with the gossip mags.’
‘I didn’t know she was married to Khan. It’s not on the dossier.’
‘They tied the knot just a few months ago. Very low-key.’
‘Right.’
Noah stopped in front of a large roller door at the end of the alley. He lowered his window, and the CCTV camera beside the door rotated, its lens whirring as it focused on his face.
He gave it a slow wave.
The door rolled up, its hydraulics creaking.
He accelerated into the loading dock.
CHAPTER 13
The loading dock smelled of motor oil and trapped exhaust. When Maya stepped out of the SUV, two men were waiting for her—Dashiell Kanawa and Arthur Cruden. She had worked with them on previous assignments. They were good operators. Professional. Intuitive. Focused. Having them here made her think, well, perhaps things weren’t going to be too bad after all.
But when she saw the third person waiting for her, she cringed.
Detective Inspector Gabrielle Tomasi.
No. Not her. Anyone but her.
Maya glared at Noah, whispering, ‘You didn’t tell me she’d be here.’
Noah shrugged. ‘She’s just here as an observer.’
‘Yeah, right.’ Maya slammed the SUV’s door shut.
Gabrielle sashayed forward, high-heels clicking, wearing that haughty smile of hers. A smile that said:
I’m queen of the world, and I know it.
Gabrielle stretched out her hand. ‘Maya Raines. As I live and breathe. I heard you were out of the game.’
Maya ignored Gabrielle’s hand, her resentment burning a hole in her gut. Gabrielle was assigned by the police commissioner to keep tabs on Section One and report back. But being a political snitch wasn’t the reason Maya disliked her. No, the truth was far more acute than that.
Maya folded her arms. ‘Cut the foreplay, Gabrielle. Just bring me up to speed.’
Gabrielle held out her hand for a while longer, then dropped it. ‘Yes, nice seeing you too, Maya. And you, Noah.’ Gabrielle’s Barbie-doll perfect smile didn’t waver. ‘We’ve checked the Khans into the biggest suite and vacated the entire floor, as well as the two floors directly below. Also, there are two officers stationed at the door at all times.’
‘Have you performed a sweep?’
‘Yes, we carried one out as soon as we came in last night. Sniffer dogs, chemical detectors, thermal scanners, the works. And I’ve cooperated fully with your colleagues here.’
Maya looked to Dashiell and Arthur.
‘Yes, Gabrielle has been very accommodating,’ Dashiell said. ‘She’s allowed us to do a secondary sweep of our own—floor-by-floor, room-by-room.’
Arthur nodded. ‘There’s nothing here that shouldn’t be here.’
‘Good,’ Maya said, looking back to Gabrielle. ‘Next question—why the hell did you check the principal into the Pacifica? It’s too public, too exposed. Why didn’t you just secure him in a safe house?’
Gabrielle shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her smile dipping. ‘I... well, we assumed that Mr and Mrs Khan would be more comfortable here. I mean, considering all they’ve gone through, don’t you think they deserve a more relaxed environment?’
Maya didn’t believe her. The politicos had placed Abraham Khan here for one reason and one reason only—to show the country and the world what a great job they were doing. They were courting the media’s attention. Shit.
Gabrielle carried on, ‘Look, it’s not a normal day, not by any stretch, but we’re surviving. The government is reimbursing hotel for its troubles.’
‘I’m not worried about reimbursements. What I’m worried about is the fact that you’ve just pasted a big neon sign on our principal and invited every loony in town to make a beeline for this place and take a potshot at him.’
‘Now, Maya, that’s completely unfair.’
‘Is it? Care to tell me who leaked Khan’s location to the press?’
‘Easy, easy,’ Noah said, cutting in, an appeasing smile on his lips. ‘Let’s not take it out on Gabrielle. She’s just following orders.’
Maya frowned. It was just like Noah to take Gabrielle’s side and undermine her. Great. Just great. Maya shook her head. ‘Okay. Let’s put that aside. How is the principal holding up?
Gabrielle sighed. ‘Mr Khan? Quite well, I think. But Mrs Khan? I worry about her. I’ve never seen anyone so pale, so scared.’
‘Can you show us to their suite?’
‘Certainly. This way.’ Gabrielle led them to the elevator.
Maya flexed her jaw. The dynamics of the mission had shifted, and she didn’t like it. Not one bit. She would have to be careful around Gabrielle Tomasi. The woman had a habit of making things more difficult than they had to be.
CHAPTER 14
Abraham Khan looked pretty good for a man who had almost been murdered the night before. When he met Maya and Noah at the door, he was freshly showered, freshly shaved, his hair slicked back.
Maya caught a whiff of his cologne—it was the kind that pinched her nose, but in a good way. Yes, here was a man who needed to be dignified even in the face of all hell breaking loose.
Maya shook Abraham’s hand.
‘Salaam alaikum.’
Peace be upon you. ‘I’m Maya Raines, and this is Noah Sanderson, my number two.’
Abraham blinked. ‘
Alaikum salaam
. You’re a Muslim?’
‘No, sir. But my mother grew up among Muslims. She’s taught me a great deal about your culture and your customs.’
‘Ah. If only my own people could be as open-minded.’ Abraham smiled a sad smile. ‘Come in. Please.’
Maya stepped into the suite, and she examined the windows. Yes, the curtains were all drawn tightly enough. No gaps. No sightlines for shooters to exploit. It was such a simple thing. Yet it made all the difference between being safe and being dead.
A flicker of motion interrupted her thoughts. She turned and saw Belinda Freeman-Khan slipping into the bathroom. Her eyes were swollen and red, and her makeup was smudged and runny. The bathroom door banged shut, and the lock on the other side clicked.
Abraham exhaled, his nostrils flaring. ‘Forgive my wife. She’s being... difficult. We’ll have to do the interview without her.’
‘We understand,’ Noah said. ‘It can’t be easy for either of you.’
‘No, it’s not.’ Abraham gestured them towards the sofa. ‘Can I get you anything? A drink? Some fruit?’
‘We’re fine, sir. Thank you.’
Maya and Noah sat, and Abraham took the easy chair opposite them.
He clenched the armrests, his fingers flexing. ‘I don’t quite understand the need for an interview, though. I’ve told the detectives everything about last night.’
Maya leaned forward. ‘I know you did, sir. But we’ll need to establish the facts from a different angle. You’re our principal; our protectee. We’re not focusing on last night’s crime. We’re focusing on keeping you safe from a future one.’
‘Very well.’
‘Now, some of our questions may be sensitive...’
‘That won’t be a problem. I have a thick skin.’
Noah held his finger up. ‘Sir, before we begin...’ He pulled a black device from his jacket’s pocket, placing it on the coffee table in front of him. It was the size and shape of a cigarette pack, and it had a red light on.
Abraham stared. ‘What’s that?’
‘It produces white noise and cancels out radio waves. Just in case.’
‘But you have already searched the hotel.’