Ghost Rendition Read online

  • • • • • • • • • •

  I described what I had in mind to Pratt and Caroline. Pratt didn’t pick his head up from his computer. Caroline sat behind him, looking over his shoulder.

  “We’re safe here. If we buy time, Danny can crack their encryption and give us a better idea of who we’re dealing with,” Caroline said.

  “You’re talking about safety? I’m going to have to change your nickname,” I said.

  “It’s too late. I already had the Angel of Death t-shirts made.”

  “Good. Because you can bet they have every resource they can put their hands on looking for us. And when they find us, we won’t be safe and neither will my family. I’m not going to wait around for that.”

  “Tell me what I need to do,” Pratt said.

  Caroline gave him a look like a mom who was disappointed that her kid wasn’t listening to her.

  I gave Pratt the details, and while he worked I banged out another chapter for Connor, “How to Cut the Jugular Vein,” to pass the time.

  “Wouldn’t it be simpler to use a gun?” Caroline asked.

  “Since the book is called Stabbing Weapons for Morons, that would sort of defeat the purpose.”

  “That’s a stupid name for a book.”

  “Which is perfect, because only stupid people will buy it,” I said.

  “You risk your life for your country and plumbers get paid more.”

  “They have better unions.”

  “Maybe we should start one. We could all go on strike unless they pay us more.”

  “That could work. Or they’d kill us,” I said.

  “Do you ever wonder whether it’s worth it?”

  “Not when I get to meet interesting people like you.”

  “I mean it. Do you ever think about disappearing, starting over with a real life,” she said.

  “I can’t be a plumber, I’m no good with my hands.”

  She didn’t laugh.

  “Yes, I think about it every day. But I have an ex-wife and a son. What am I supposed to do, confess everything and tell them we have to disappear now? How could I ask them to give up everything and everyone they know? I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. There’s only one way this job ends. And it’s not with a retirement party.”

  She nodded slowly. It felt good to know she understood. It’s not something I could share with anyone else, not even Rob. I couldn’t risk his deciding I was unreliable. He wouldn’t want to have me retired, but I had no doubt he would do what he had to.

  “Are you hungry? I’m hungry. I’m going to get some burgers at Burger and Brew,” I said.

  She smiled at me. It wasn’t one of her dazzling, “I’m going to put you under my spell smiles.” It felt real.

  I called in the order but it wasn’t ready when I got there. I sipped a ginger ale while I waited. I don’t drink during an operation. The place was filling up with suburban dads on the way home from the train station looking for a quick drink before facing domestic bliss. A couple of guys at the end of the bar were rifling beers and laughing like frat boys. One of them was a short fat guy and the other was Rowan. I edged closer to listen.

  “I’m telling you, I throw the ball at his head and the little spaz still can’t figure it out. I keep yelling, ‘use your head’ at him,” Rowan said and high-fived his friend.

  “Fighting angry is fighting to lose,” Nachash said in my head.

  “Fuck that,” was my response.

  Rowan and his buddy were at the end of the bar near the bathroom. It wasn’t hard to get behind Rowan. Then I waited until a tall, barrel-chested, local fireman came out the bathroom. I timed it so he was moving past me. I hit Rowan with an elbow to the kidney. It wasn’t enough to make him piss blood, but it hurt plenty. With the other hand, I grabbed the back of the fireman’s shirt and yanked him back toward Rowan, and then spun out of the way and into the bathroom.

  I cracked the door and watched. Rowan turned around. The fireman tumbled into him. Rowan thought the fireman was a drunk who had hit him. The fireman thought Rowan had grabbed him.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Rowan demanded.

  “Are you trying to be funny?” The local blue-collar guys don’t like to take shit from the yuppie-come-latelies in town.

  “You hit me,” Rowan said. He looked sideways at his buddy who subtly edged away.

  “If you can’t hold your beer like a big boy, then Mommy shouldn’t let you out.”

  I enjoyed the look of fear in Rowan’s eyes. I could see him searching for something to say that didn’t feel like total capitulation.

  “I’m a doctor. I know how much to drink.”

  For a moment I thought that the fireman was going to slug him. It was a nice moment. Then he laughed in Rowan’s face. “All right, Doc, you get home safely now.” They don’t make firemen like they used to. He laughed again and bellied up to the bar.

  Rowan turned to his buddy and whispered. The buddy nodded with one eye on the fireman to make sure he couldn’t hear. Rowan was clearly rationalizing at full speed. He wasn’t scared. The fireman wasn’t worth his time. That’s why the town needed to gentrify more. I replayed the scene in my mind a few times on the walk home. It wasn’t as much fun as if the fireman had hit him, but I enjoyed it as much as I could.

  Pratt worked right through dinner. I tried to get some writing done, but Caroline turned off my computer and led me into the bedroom.

  “I’m starting to feel like you only love me for my body,” I said.

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but I wanted to talk where Danny couldn’t hear us.”

  “So you only want me for my mind?”

  “It depends on how the talk goes,” she said.

  “In that case, I’m here to listen.”

  “I’m worried about him. He’s going to burn himself out.”

  “Slow him down. You two don’t seem to have problems communicating,” I said.

  “He looks up to you. From me, it sounds like I’m trying to mother him.”

  “Oh, is that what you’re doing.”

  “I’m not sleeping with Danny if that’s what you’re implying. I like that you’re jealous though.”

  “Time isn’t on our side. He can handle this a little longer,” I said.

  “He thinks you’re going to take care of him. He trusts you.”

  “I don’t know how this is going to end up for Pratt. I don’t know how it’s going to end up for you and me. I’m trying to get us through tomorrow.”

  “One day at a time. One hour at a time. One minute at a time. That’s how they train you, right?” she said.

  “The only way to stay sane.”

  “In an insane world.”

  “Until you stop knowing whether you’re a suburban dad who is secretly a contractor or a contractor who is posing as a suburban dad,” I said.

  “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hide. No one gets to know the real you. Even you. Well, I think you do know who you are, no matter how much you fight it.”

  “Yeah, who am I?” I said.

  “One of the good guys,” she said, kissed me on the lips and walked out the door.

  “What about wanting me for my body?”

  “You satisfied me fully with your mind,” she said.

  She went back to keep an eye on Pratt. I figured, if I wasn’t going to be kept busy, I might as well get some sleep. We had a big day ahead of us. I had barely dozed off when I heard a piercing scream. Mimi had made another sneak attack, but this time, she was the one who was screaming. When I reached the bathroom, I found out why. Mimi was standing face to face with a dripping wet, totally naked Caroline.

  “Mimi meet Caroline. Caroline this is Mimi.”

  Mimi slapped me across the face and left. I could have blocked it, but I thought it might make her feel better.

  “Your girlfriend didn’t seem happy to meet me,” Caroline said.

  “She’s just my neighbor.” It didn’t sound fair when I said it, not fa
ir to Mimi. Was it her ego that was hurt, or did she have real feelings for me? It had never occurred to me. It probably should have.

  “We can play neighbor too,” Caroline said and undressed me.

  I almost asked her where Pratt was, as if we were sneaking a quickie while our toddler took a nap. She sat me on the toilet seat and mounted me, and all thoughts of Pratt were gone. It takes strong legs to manage seated sex. I put one hand on each calf to feel her muscles work. They were developed enough to form a tight curve, but not bulgy or overbuilt. It’s funny what turns you on when you get older. She gracefully angled herself forward, sliding against me with every thrust. Still wet from the shower, she formed the perfect suction. It was like she sensed that my time away from her might have broken her spell and now she cast it all over again. She did everything but walk me back to bed and tuck me in.

  CHAPTER NINE

  We mobilized in the morning like we were a team. We made good time into the City. No one was following us.

  Caroline and Pratt quietly set up on the roof of the apartment across the street from Pratt’s building. I walked through the front door and took my time. I climbed the stairs to his apartment, elevators can quickly turn into death traps, and noisily let myself in. I opened all the windows.

  I assumed that all three of the groups that were chasing Tiresias would have some kind of surveillance set up. Whoever showed up first got to be interrogated. It was up to Caroline to make sure that the other groups didn’t crash the party. I had considered moving the interrogation to another location, but if the other groups showed up while we were on the move, it would leave us vulnerable.

  “Three white males entering the building. Pratt says they aren’t residents,” Caroline said in my wireless earpiece.

  When they broke down the door and charged in, guns drawn, they were surprised to find me sitting calmly on the living room couch waiting for them. Since they were carrying Commanders, I assumed they were Russian.

  “Gavno, mudak, blyat,” was my phonetically pronounced greeting. That roughly translated to “shit, asshole, whore.” They were the three curses I knew in Russian.

  “Where’s the computer genius?” the middle of the three asked in unaccented English.

  “If I had known you spoke this well, I would have cursed you out in English,” I said.

  “It won’t be so funny when . . .”

  My new Russian friend stopped in midsentence as his two comrades turned to jelly. A bullet from my sniper rifle, in Caroline’s capable hands, had noiselessly passed through the open windows and taken them in the head.

  “You might want to put your gun down,” I said.

  He lowered it slowly to the floor.

  “Please, take a seat.” I stood up and motioned him to take my place on the couch. “We haven’t formally met yet. What’s your name?”

  He closed his eyes. I registered my unhappiness with his bad manners by spraying him in the face with a small fire extinguisher I had brought with me. I don’t believe in waterboarding. Some interrogators like it because it always gets a confession. When you feel like you’re drowning, you will confess to anything. The problem is that you can’t rely on the information. They will spit out anything they can come up with to make you stop. Over time, you might get enough out of the interrogation to piece things together, but it’s not efficient. Creating enough discomfort for motivation but not enough that you taint the information is an art, but we were in a hurry, I used what I had.

  “I’m sorry. That must have been unpleasant. Now tell me your name so I don’t have to do it again.”

  “Go fuck yourself,” was his answer.

  “Good. Now we’re talking. Tell me who sent you and I’ll let you go. I’m not interested in hostages.”

  He shook his head. We were going backward. I stuck the fire extinguisher nozzle in his mouth and sprayed, enough to show him I meant business. Some interrogators enjoy doing their business. Not all of them are sadists. Some enjoy the control. Some like the psychological battle. I don’t take pleasure in any of it. Nachash said I needed to suppress my empathy. I was less concerned about controlling my empathy than losing it. You run across some cold-blooded characters in this business. It’s like they stop being human. You can’t turn that on and off.

  “Don’t make me do that again. It’s not worth it. I know who sent you. You know I know. All I need is for you to confirm it. Then I can tell my boss I got something out of you and I can call it a day. We don’t have much time here.”

  He shook his head, but not as emphatically. His resolve was breaking. If I had more time, I could have worked him verbally. I stuck the nozzle back in his mouth and gave him a long pull. He vomited white foam onto the floor. His skin turned gray. His eyes watered. He spat out bile and tried to clear his head.

  “The next one will probably drown you. That would be a shame. Just tell me who sent you.”

  Once he told me something, it wouldn’t be hard to get everything. It’s that first leap that’s hardest. I could feel his conflict. He was convincing himself that it was okay to tell me. It was a matter of time.

  “Six white males entering the building,” Caroline said in my earpiece.

  “Six? What’s wrong with them? Do they think I have a small battalion in here?” That was too many to control.

  “Get up,” I said to the Russian. “We’re moving.”

  He didn’t respond. Events were moving too quickly for him. I took his arm and pulled him to his feet. He stumbled and lurched against me as a bullet took him below the right shoulder blade. If he hadn’t tripped, it would have been his head.

  “Cease fire. Repeat, cease fire,” I screamed at Caroline.

  The Russian was too heavy to drag. “Sorry, that wasn’t supposed to happen,” I said, easing him back down onto the couch.

  I ran to Pratt’s room and descended the fire escape. I met Caroline and Pratt at my car, which I had parked a few blocks away.

  “I thought he was attacking you,” Caroline said, once we were safely away.

  Was she lying? I couldn’t tell. And I wasn’t sure how much my feelings were getting in the way of my reason. It’s amazing how we can project all sorts of ridiculous fantasies on attractive women. I’m sure Nachash would have something annoying to say about it.

  “Where are we going?” Pratt asked, as I slowly drove uptown.

  “I don’t know yet,” I answered, pulling out my phone and opening my tracker app. “I put a dot on the Russian. Let’s see where his new friends take him.”

  It didn’t take long for the six yahoos to grab the Russian and throw him in their van. We tracked them to an abandoned pet store in Hunts Point. It said, “Vinny’s Pets” across a big front window. The glass was cracked and I didn’t see any pets. It used to be that you could find safe houses on the western and northern fringes of Manhattan, but now they were full of family buildings and Starbucks. Even Brooklyn was too gentrified and Queens was on the way. The Bronx was the last bastion of burned out buildings and deserted shops. Hunts Point was on the water. There were a lot of import-export companies there, but the crime rate was high, so outside of business hours there weren’t a lot of nosy neighbors.

  We parked around the corner, did a quick scout, and didn’t see any lookouts. The front door was nailed shut from the outside with planks of wood running across. It wasn’t the type of building that would have roof access, but there would likely be a bathroom in the back. I wedged myself sideways down a narrow alley that ran along the side of the store. Bathrooms typically have windows that face out. This one didn’t have much of a view, looking right at the building across the alley, but it was big enough for me to wriggle through. It was secured by a rusted-out metal screen. I was up-to-date on my tetanus shot. I got a firm grip and pulled.

  It came away easily in my hands. I pried open the window and pulled myself through. The smell was overpowering. My guess was that it hadn’t been kept very clean when Vinny was still selling pets. Now it was a full-fled
ged health hazard. I felt a vibration in my pocket and for a moment I thought it was the room’s bacteria climbing into my clothes. I pulled out my phone. It was Suzanne calling. If it was an emergency, she would call back, and there was nothing I could do now anyway. I needed to take care of the business at hand.

  I cracked the bathroom door and got a side view of a backroom where the Russian was locked in a dog cage. The Suit was literally rattling his cage, running the butt of his gun across the bars. This wasn’t what I expected. The Israelis were unlikely to have sent five agents to reinforce him, so Caroline had lied.

  The safest play would be to hit him, grab the Russian, and interrogate him before he bled out. I could try to subdue the Suit, but getting the drop on someone is harder than it sounds, a lot of things can go wrong. Like he can turn and shoot, which would be stupid because you would probably kill him, but he might kill you too, and who’s laughing then? But having two subjects to interrogate is a huge advantage. You can match their stories and play them against each other. And the disgusting bathroom was sending my germophobia into overdrive. At least I could shoot the Suit. I had no defense against the germs.

  “I’m sorry about your partner,” I said, as I stepped out of the bathroom. “Put your gun down unless you want to join him.”

  The Suit turned very calmly like he’d been expecting me. He didn’t raise his gun, but he didn’t put it down either.

  “Don’t make me count to three, it makes me feel stupid,” I said.

  “Fuck you,” was the Suit’s response.

  “I’m not going to take offense, because I understand you’re a little pissed, but this is your last chance to drop your gun before I shoot you in your potty mouth.”

  I don’t know whether he was going to put it down or not. I didn’t get the chance to find out, because the lights went out. I fired. I heard a yell of pain. I fired again.

  The lights came back on and I saw that the Suit had pivoted sideways and my shots had hit the Russian in the cage behind him. The Russian looked dead. The Suit was very much alive and had his massive Desert Eagle pointed at me. Luckily, the lights blinded him and his shot went wide.