The Hit (Will Robie 2) - Page 15

Blue Man took a few minutes to do so.

Robie said, “So that’s all. Just where and how? No eyes on Reel anywhere?”

“Come in and we’ll see to your injuries.”

“No theories on why she would target the number two?” Robie persisted.

“That’s all they would be right now, just theories.”

There was something in Blue Man’s voice that began to concern Robie. “Something going on between the lines here?” Robie asked.

Blue Man didn’t answer.

“I’ll be in in a few hours. Want to check some things out.”

“Let me give you another location to go to.”

“Why is that?” asked Robie.

Blue Man gave him the address without elaboration.

Robie put down the phone and walked over to the window.

Reel had been in town last night to gun down Gelder. That was officially speculation, but something in Robie’s gut told him it was true.

If so, she could still be out there. Why she would hang around was not easy to answer. Typically, whenever Robie had killed he had left wherever he was immediately, and for obvious reasons.

But this wasn’t typical, was it?

Not for me and not for her.

Robie took off the gauze around his burns, showered, put on fresh dressings and fresh clothes.

Blue Man had told him where the shooting had taken place. The area would be full of cops. Robie couldn’t do much more than observe. But sometimes observations led to breakthroughs. He would have to hope that would be the case here.

As he walked down to his car he knew one thing. He would not be able to survive many more nights like the last one. Reel seemed to be one step ahead at all times. That was often the case with the person being chased and the one doing the chasing.

Reel knew why she was doing what she was doing.

Robie was still playing catch-up.

Maybe that’s all I’ll be doing on this one.

So right now the odds were definitely stacked in Jessica Reel’s favor. Robie couldn’t see any development that would easily or quickly change that state of affairs.

He drove off right as the sun was starting to rise.

Just another beautiful day in the capital city.

He was glad he was still alive to see it.

CHAPTER

14

HE HAD LIVED. Reel had watched it on her laptop.

Inside the outbuilding near her cottage was a camera on a tripod pointed at the cottage and uplinked to a satellite. Through it she had seen Robie drive up, get out, and recon the property.

He hadn’t looked inside the outbuilding, which had been a mistake on his part.

It was gratifying to her that Robie made mistakes.

But then he had done the remarkable. He had figured out that the pond was a trap and risked throwing himself through a wall of fire to survive.

She clicked some computer keys and watched it again, in slow motion.

Robie burst from the house and then her view of him was gone, blocked by the wall of flames. It was designed to lead him right to the pond, which looked like a safe harbor but would be his grave.

Yet under the most intense pressure he had kept his wits, deduced the safe harbor was a trap, and executed on the fly a maneuver designed to keep him alive.

And he had succeeded.

She froze the screen on the image of Robie walking back to his car.

Could I have just done what he did? Am I as good as he is?

She stared at the screen, looking into Robie’s face, trying to read the man’s mind, to delve into what he was thinking at just that moment in time.

But the face was inscrutable.

A good poker player.

No, a great poker player.

She closed the laptop and sat back on her bed. She pulled a Glock nine-millimeter from her belt holster and started disassembling it. She did it without looking, as she had been trained to do.

Then she started to put it back together, again without looking.

This exercise always served to calm her, make her think more clearly. And she needed to think as clearly as possible right now.

She was fighting an engagement on two flanks.

She had her list with more names on it. These people were now forewarned. Their protective shells were being hardened as she sat there.

And she had Will Robie, who was now more than a little angry at almost being killed by her. He would be coming hard on her rear flank.

That meant she had to have eyes in the back of her head, see both combat fronts at the same time. Difficult, but not impossible to do.

Robie had gone to her cottage on the Eastern Shore to learn more about her. He had found nothing except an attempt on his life.

But now Reel needed more information on Robie. She had thought he would be the one to come after her. The episode at the cottage had confirmed this.

She rose, made a phone call, and then slipped into jeans, sweater, boots, and a hoodie. Her gun rested in her belt holster. A Ka-Bar knife rode in a leather sleeve wrapped around her left arm and hidden under the hoodie. She could pull it free in a second if need be.

Her main problem was that despite her changed appearance there were eyes everywhere. Much of the United States and the civilized world was now one big camera. Her former employer would be using sophisticated search and facial recognition software, going through databases housing billions of images, in a 24/7 attempt to track her down.

With that many resources leveled against her, Reel had no margin of error. She had built a nice bulwark of defenses, but nothing was perfect. Nearly every defensive line in every war had been pierced at some point. And she was under no delusions that she would be one of the rare exceptions.

She took a cab to a major intersection and then got out. The rest of the way would be on foot. It took her thirty minutes to walk it, unhurried, seemingly out for a casual stroll. Along the way she used every skill she possessed to attempt to see anyone watching her. Her antennae never quivered.

She reached the spot ahead of schedule and surveyed it from a hidden observation point. If something were going to happen, here was where it would transpire.

Twenty minutes passed and she saw him approach. He was dressed in a suit and looked like a bureaucrat. Which he was. He didn’t carry a bulky manila file with him. That would have been the old days.

And I’m old enough to remember some of the “old days,” she thought.

He bought a newspaper from a machine and clanged the metal and glass door shut, checking it once to make certain it had closed properly. It was a routine sort of thing and would not warrant any attention from anyone.

He turned and walked away.

Reel watched him go and then strolled over to the machine, inserted her coins, opened the door, and withdrew the next paper that sat on top of the pile. At the same instant her hand closed around the black thumb drive the man had placed there.

It was an old-fashioned drop procedure to retrieve modern-day digital info. Her informant was an old friend who owed her a favor and was not yet aware that others in the intelligence field were after her. It had worked to her advantage that the agency had chosen to close ranks on her little detour from duty. This she had confirmed by using electronic back doors into the agency’s databases, back doors she had set up a long time ago. Soon these back doors would be firmly closed and her old friends would be doing their best to kill her. But for now, she had access.

Reel turned and walked away, her steps unhurried, but every sense on alert. She slipped inside a fast-food restaurant and made her way to the ladies’ room. She took out the drive and a device in her other pocket, which enabled her to check the drive for malware or an electronic tracker. An old friend was an old friend, but in the spy business you really didn’t have any friends, just enemies and people who could become your enemy.

The thumb drive was clear.

She took a circuitous route bac

k to her hotel, using a cab, a bus, the Metro, and finally her feet. Two hours later she was back in her room, nearly certain that all that had elapsed during the last three hours had passed by unobserved by anyone looking for her.

She kicked off her shoes and sat at the desk set against one wall. She opened her laptop and plugged the drive into the USB slot. She opened the file on the drive and the information started to spread across her screen.

This was Will Robie’s life—well, as much as his employer knew of it. Some she was already aware of, but there was much fresh information on here. In many profound ways, his early life mirrored her own.

Tags: David Baldacci Will Robie Thriller
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