“Culver City, California,” he said. “Born and bred. Went to the San Bernardino mountains from time to time, so I’ve driven in snow, but I didn’t grow up in it.”

  “I can drive if you want.”

  Crowley glanced at him. “You’ve done most of the driving today. Try to get some rest.”

  “I won’t sleep, if that’s what you’re saying. Somebody’s got to man the bug tracer.”

  “How far ahead is he? Can’t see worth a damn in this weather.”

  “Half a mile. We’re good. He cleared this bridge. He’ll be going over the Harlem River in a sec.”

  “Crap, there’s another bridge?”

  Agent Williams chuckled. “Don’t worry, it’s not much of a bridge. Be thankful that it’s close to midnight. This area is a nightmare during rush hour.”

  “I could imagine. This is probably worse due to the bomb.”

  “The area that got hit full force was worse than I expected,” Agent Williams said, “but get a little ways from it, and it looks like New York always did.”

  “Wonder if cancer rates will be worse here?”

  “Wouldn’t be surprised. Remember what happened to the 9-11 first responders?”

  Crowley nodded. “It was bad, and to think that whole area is in ruins now. Kinda gives you some perspective.”

  “Probably the shortest-lived national monument we’ve ever had. Strange how things turn out.”

  “New York City has always had a target on its back,” Crowley said. “We’re lucky we beat the Nazis when we did. They weren’t far from having the capability to hit New York, and after what was done to their cities, you know they were itching to level the place.”

  “He’s over the Harlem River now. Looks like he’s staying on I-95. Not surprising, but he’ll have to change soon.”

  “How do you expect him to go?”

  Agent Williams thought about it for a moment. “If he’s going east onto Long Island, he’ll drop down on I-295, and get on I-495. If the weather was better, I’d expect him to get on some smaller roads, but it won’t matter in this mess.”

  They rode along silently for a while, Ted Crowley’s mind going back to home. His wife, who left him after one-too-many hunts. He wanted to retire and try to reconcile. Even approached her about it before Malcolm called him for the Kansas gig. She was done. It was the worst regret of his life.

  “You okay?” Agent Williams asked, seeing his expression.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “He just got on I-295. Making better time.”

  “So are we. The weather is letting up a little. Think we’ll get right into a battle?”

  “Maybe,” Agent Williams said. “After everything that’s happened, Torrie might not be so quick to gut his cousins.”

  “You still think he planned to off Lance and Victor?”

  “If he only wanted to target Malcolm, there were easier ways to do it than driving all this way.”

  “Think he knew the others would join?”

  “You’re the expert on these creeps,” Agent Williams said. “What do you think?”

  Crowley was quiet for a long moment, thinking it through.

  “Well?”

  Crowley glanced over at him. “This one is really hard to tell, but I’d say Torrie didn’t expect them to join the party. They might be after Torrie as much as they’re after Malcolm, you know.”

  “If I try to use logic, I come up with the same conclusion,” Agent Williams said. “My gut tells me different, and my gut is usually right.”

  “Been there. What’s your gut telling you?”

  “Torrie is planning to nail Lance, Malcolm, George, and Victor. The others are hoping to nail us. They figure Lance and Victor will be dead before they arrive.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “The news reports of the rogue FBI agents got their attention. They showed up at the right time for that to be the driver.”

  Crowley chuckled. “That’s why you’re an FBI agent.”

  “Is that a complement, or a nasty remark about the bureau?”

  “Oh, it was a complement,” Crowley said. “I don’t have any problem with clean FBI agents… in fact I admire them, and you’re the best I’ve worked with so far.”

  “Well thanks for that. This whole thing has been a learning experience for me. I came in thinking Malcolm and George were borderline psychopaths, and that you were an enabler. Now I’d trust my life to any of you guys, and that’s the truth.”

  “Likewise.”

  “He’s on I-495.”

  ***

  Langston’s phone rang, Russell’s name showing on the screen. It was 11:30, which made it 4:30 in London.

  “What’s up, boss? Kinda early for you, isn’t it?”

  “All of Margaret Hines’s people in the UK are dead or captured,” Russell said. “General Hogan knows, but I wanted to touch base with you.”

  “Does Maggie know?”

  “She’s at least suspicious, based on our questioning of the prisoners. Several of them have mentioned that Margaret was calling them three or four times per day. Probably getting frantic now that they’ve been gone a while.”

  “Interesting,” Langston said. “What about Loony Louise?”

  “You know she’s on one of the Royal Yachts,” Russell said. “Weather’s been bad. They’re running late. What’s going on there? If you can get things cleaned up quick enough, they won’t become a factor.”

  “Why don’t the US authorities stop the boat?”

  “You mean sink it?” Russell asked.

  Langston chuckled. “I wish. No, I mean intercept her and escort her into custody someplace.”

  “General Hogan and I discussed that briefly. He can’t guarantee there are no operatives in the Coast Guard or Navy that could get word out. He’s afraid our quarry might fly the coup.”

  “They might do that anyway, if Maggie knows her people are gone.”

  “That is a concern. Oh, one other thing. The King is not helping the globalists. We figured that, but had to be sure. The PM broached the subject.”

  “That must have been fun.”

  Russell chuckled. “This PM and the King have a close relationship. I’ll just leave it at that.”

  “Got it. What do you want us to be doing?”

  “Whatever General Hogan needs,” Russell said. “We’re close to the end. Be careful, though. I want you and Creighton back here unharmed. There’s lots of bad element to attack. I foresee overtime.”

  “Yes sir, we’ll do our best.”

  “What do you think of the team?” Russell asked.

  “Top notch, and battle hardened. Very good intel operatives, too. Glad I’m getting the chance to work with them.”

  “Good. I’ll let you go. Get some sleep.”

  “Talk to you soon, Russell.”

  Langston put his phone away. Creighton turned towards him, half asleep on a cot against the wall of their small room.

  “The old man?”

  “Yeah. Maggie’s team got whacked.”

  “We done, then?”

  “Nope, we’re gonna help General Hogan’s team take out the trash. Go back to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  ***

  Torrie was getting close, passing Highway 135, still on I-495. The weather had settled down as he moved east. It was still cold and windy, but there wasn’t ice all over the road anymore. He brought his phone to his face, looking at the text Victor sent, with Lance’s phone number. He checked the time. It was past midnight. Should I call him? He sighed and hit the contact. It rang three times, then clicked.

  “Who is this?” Lance asked.

  “Torrie. You still at Victor’s place?”

  “How’d you get this number?”

  Torrie chuckled. “I talked to Victor. He gave it to me.”

  “Where is he?”

  “You don’t know?” Torrie asked.

  “I’ve been trying to call him for hours. Figured you might have knocked him off already.”

  “He said you talked him into leaving before the fun began.”

  Lance was silent for a moment. “Thank God. Yeah, I did tell him to leave. He’ll be killed if he stays around here, either by Davis or by you.”

  “I wouldn’t kill Victor.”

  “Uh huh. How far behind are Al, Jax, and Cole?”

  “Oh, you know about them, huh?” Torrie asked.

  “I notice you didn’t mention it.”

  “I was getting to it,” Torrie said. “Besides, they’re in jail. Maybe not for long.”

  “You don’t know,” Lance muttered.

  “Oh crap, what now? They get iced? Not that I care.”

  “They got sprung.”

  Torrie was silent for a moment. “Sprung by who?”

  “Hoyt and Nick Redmond, and Crane Beckler.”

  “Son of a bitch, they’ll get Jax to tell them where the hideout is, and then they’ll kill all of us, Jax, Al, and Cole included.”

  Lance chuckled. “That’d be my guess. This is your fault, you know.”

  “Why is it my fault?”

  “You tried to lay a trap for Davis and the Spook. Jax noticed, and told Al. All they had to do was follow your activities and those dirty FBI agents who’ve been going after Davis.”

  “Shit. And since the arrest made the news, now we’ve got the Redmond’s and Crane on the way.”

  “What do you want?” Lance asked.

  “Victor said you weren’t at the house or the bunker. He wouldn’t tell me where you were, only gave me your phone number. You want to team up against those guys? You know they want to kill both of us.”

  Lance laughed. “I don’t trust you any more than I trust them.”

  “C’mon, I could’ve nailed you years ago.”

  “I was paying you a lot of money. Who kills off the golden goose?”

  “Yeah, that’s true, but I still wouldn’t have killed you. What would be the point?”

  Lance was silent for a moment, thinking. “Where are you?”

  “Outskirts of Melville, on I-495.”

  “Almost here, huh? Hell, I’m as good as dead anyway, might as well let you do it. At least I deserve it from you. Give me a few minutes. I need to do something, then I’ll call you back and tell you where I am.”

  “You gonna set up something?”

  Lance snickered. “I’m all by myself, and you’re half my age. No, I have a hostage, and I don’t want her hurt. I’m letting her go before you get here.”

  “What if she talks?”

  “Then if we’re lucky, the cops will help us take out the others.”

  “Even Jax? He’s your son.”

  “I won’t kill Jax. He’s another one I deserve to get it from. Actually, if I had my choice, I’d let him kill me.”

  Torrie’s breathing changed. “I’m sorry, man.”

  “Don’t be, it’s all my fault. Go to the house first. Make it look like somebody’s there. Davis and the Spook will probably be here first. I’ll call you back in a few minutes.”

  “Okay,” Torrie said. “See you soon.”

  The call ended. Lance sprinted up the stairs with the hammer, pulling the nails out of the door and ripping it open. Lucy looked at him, her eyes filled with terror.

  “No, I’m not going to hurt you, I’m letting you go. Drive away. As fast as you can. Don’t come back until you’ve seen the news stories about the cops being here. Got me?”

  She nodded.

  “Take a jacket.”

  She grabbed a coat from the closet, and they both ran down the stairs, Lance opening the door as Lucy grabbed her luggage, dragging it outside to her car.

  “I hope you survive,” she said, looking him in the eyes. She approached, kissing him on the cheek, and then unlocked her car. She was backing down the driveway as Lance went back into the house.

  ***

  Torrie rounded the corner, driving to Victor’s house, his eyes darting around in the dark. His phone rang. It was Lance.

  “Yeah, Lance. Just pulled in front of Victor’s house.”

  “I’m in the house around the corner, watching the back of Victor’s house and the bunker. Go inside and turn on some lights, then get over here.”

  “The house where that cute little number used to live,” Torrie said. “She was the hostage?”

  “Yeah, and I liked her, so I let her go. She drove away a few minutes ago.”

  “You have her?”

  “No. I’m done hurting people. Got enough to answer for. See you in a few minutes.”

  Torrie slipped the phone back into his pocket, then drove the van into the driveway, getting out, unlocking the door. The house was dark and cold. He hit the lights, then looked out the back windows, seeing the bench, which had been moved further back on the fence. Am I really gonna do this? No, maybe I’ll stay alive a little longer if I let him live. He whipped out his phone, typing a text to Lance.

  See what you did with the bench. I’ll climb over.

  Lance replied. Good. Best not to go back out front. Davis and the Spook might already be there.

  Torrie checked his pockets, finding his pistol and razor, then slipping out the backyard, walking through the frozen grass towards the bench, getting on it and leaping over, landing on the raised planter below. Lance was standing just inside the door, motioning him over.

  “Haven’t seen you since Tavern on the Green,” Torrie said as he entered.

  “Thank you for that,” Lance said, “regardless of why you did it.”

  Torrie nodded. “We got a good enough view? How about upstairs?”

  “The master bedroom has a better view. You armed?”

  “Pistol and my razor. You?”

  “Not much. Shotgun and a couple pistols. Wish we had a couple assault rifles, but it won’t make a difference. Those guys will nail us.”

  “I’m not giving up yet,” Torrie said. “Which door upstairs?”

  “The one with the nail holes in the jam.”

  Torrie snickered. “That’s where the hostage was.

  “Yep. Get ready, they’ll figure out where we are in a hurry.”

  “Yeah, that bench is a good tip-off.”

  “And you walked through that icy grass. Probably left tracks.”

  “Dammit, you’re right,” Torrie said. “Crap.”

  “Don’t worry about it now. Wish I would’ve left the door to the bunker open.”

  “Want me to go over?”

  Lance shook his head. “Too late. Get upstairs. Watch the windows in the back of the house. If you’re gonna do me, shoot me in the back. I’d rather not see it coming.”

  Torrie shrugged. “Not going to convince you, am I?”

  “Sorry,” Lance said, moving towards the windows, staring at the back of Victor’s house.

  { 4 }

  Melville

  George was driving. Malcolm’s phone rang. He put it on speaker. “Talk to me.”

  “Just drove past the house,” Crowley said. “Torrie’s van is in the driveway, and there are lights on inside. We’ll park past it. I’ll text you the address.”

  “Wait till we get there,” George said. “They’ll be ready.”

  Malcolm nodded. “Yeah, with Lance’s hacking ability, it’s likely they know about Al, Jax, and Cole. Might even know about the others.”

  “Wonderful,” Heidi said, checking her guns. “How far away are we?”

  “You’re off the interstate, right?” Crowley asked.

  “Yeah,” George replied.

  “Okay, we’re parked down the street a couple blocks. See you soon. Text coming.”

  The call ended, Malcolm’s phone dinging with a text a moment later. He tapped the address, the map program loading and showing him the way. “We’re close. Make a right at the next light, and a left at the stop sign. The house is on the curve just inside the housing tract.”

  “Got it,” George said. “Take a look at the house with the satellite view.”

  “Way ahead of you,” Malcolm said. “I expect them to be someplace other than the house.”

  “Yeah, the backyard, perhaps,” Heidi said.

  “There are houses on either side that butt up against the back yard,” Malcolm said, his phone close to his face. “Wish I had something bigger, like a tablet.”

  “Making the right turn,” George said. “Glad it’s so late. That’ll help us.”

  “Yep,” Malcolm said. “This is a big backyard, and there’s no house along the back, only on the sides. We should have somebody back there.”

  “Are the surrounding houses one story or two?” George asked. “Here comes the last turn.” He stopped at the stop sign and turned left.

  “House closest to the opening of the neighborhood is one story. The other is two, plus it’s on a higher elevation, so they can likely see into the back yard from the first floor.”

  “How can you tell that?” Heidi asked.

  “Using the 3D view,” Malcolm said. “They’re in that house watching. Anybody going into the back yard needs to hug the fence on that side. It’s block wall, hard to shoot through unless they’ve got something like an M60.”

  “There’s the entrance,” George said, driving into the tract. “This looks like a decent neighborhood.”

  “Who knows what goes on behind closed doors,” Heidi said, her eyes darting around. “There’s the van. See it?”

  “Yep,” George said. “Malcolm, how do I get to the back of the property?”

  “Take a right at the first street you can, then another right at the next. Looks like it’s greenbelt back there, basically.”

  George nodded, making the first right, then the second. “Send a message to the General that we’re going in, just in case.”

  “I’ll do that,” Heidi said, as George parked, Malcolm checking his PPL.

  “What are you taking?” Heidi asked.

  “PPL and M4,” George said. “You should do the same.”

  “Yeah,” Malcolm said. “This is a good operation for the PPLs.” His phone rang. Malcolm put it on speaker. “We’re in the back.”

  “Good,” Crowley said. “Agent Williams and I are walking towards the front of the house now. We’ve got the Bluetooth headsets on. Better do the same.”

 

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