Bullseye - Страница 4

Доступ к книге ограничен фрагменом по требованию правообладателя.

Sometimes it wasn’t an act.

He grabbed the front of the man’s shirt and jerked him off his feet. “Do you think I’m too old to kick your ass?” he growled, his eyes boring into the younger man’s. “Because if you do, then I suggest you and your punk friend give it a try. I haven’t had the chance to shit-kick some pricks since Vietnam and I’m getting damn tired of waiting.”

The young guy was shaking hard as he took in the old army jacket that Reuben wore and then stared back at the wild eyes and the huge frame.

“We can find another space, dude.”

“Damn good idea. Because I’m busy right now.”

Reuben hurled him away and hurried down the block toward Annabelle.

When he reached her, Caleb Shaw was just getting out of a cab.

Caleb was in his fifties, paunchy, with gray hair and a trim beard. He wore wire-rimmed spectacles and looked like a librarian, which he was. He worked in the Library of Congress’s Rare Book Reading Room. Although he was the most sedate and overtly timid member of the group, he had proved his mettle in action many times in the past.

Caleb said, “A bank robbery? In Georgetown?”

Annabelle said, “Oliver doesn’t think the target is in the bank. He thinks they’re going after something else using the bank as a launch point.”

“Well, that’s a bit odd.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” replied Annabelle. “But then odd is usually the only thing we get.”

A moment later Harry Finn came rushing up to them. In his thirties, lean and fit, Finn had first run into Oliver Stone because he’d wanted to kill him. Now Harry was one of Stone’s closes allies. He had a duffel bag over his shoulder.

“Nothing on the news,” he said. “No one must know yet.”

Reuben said, “So if not the bank what’s the target?”

Annabelle said, “There’s a jewelry store and fur place that the robbers might be able to access from the bank. At least that’s what Oliver said.”

Harry said, “Then we need to cover them both. But what about Oliver? Did he give you the lay of the land in there?”

“He’s one of ten hostages. Four bank employees and six customers. There are four robbers, heavily armed, and they put booby traps at the bank entrance in case someone tries to get to them that way.”

“Pretty well prepared,” said Reuben. “Doesn’t bode well.”

Annabelle nodded. “And he said they knew the bank’s protocols. The closing of the vault by a certain time and emails that had to go out to ensure the central office would believe nothing was wrong.”

Caleb said, “What can we do other than monitor the possible targets?”

“I tried to get a hold of Alex but he’s not answering.”

“Probably on an assignment,” said Reuben. “Otherwise he always answers.”

“But we don’t know for sure that the target is either the jewelers or the fur place,” said Harry. “That’s just speculation.”

Annabelle said, “And there’s something else. The robbers killed the security guard.”

“Which means they’ll have no compunction about killing anyone else,” said Caleb ominously.

Reuben said, “Well, we just have to make sure that doesn’t happen. But first things first. We need to cover the two potential targets. I’ll take the jewelers. Harry can take the fur place.”

“Are you armed?” asked Annabelle.

Reuben smiled. “You’re asking me that kind of a question?”

Harry said, “I have a pocket and there’s something in it. But what about the cops? The FBI? Shouldn’t we call them in?”

Annabelle shook her head. “Oliver said not to. The robbers may have a spotter out here. If a SWAT team comes barging in they’ll know it. And the robbers might start popping off hostages. We have to use stealth.” She looked at Caleb. “While Harry and Reuben cover the two possible targets, you and I have to figure out if there might be another place in the mall we’re missing.”

The four of them split up. Reuben and Harry entered the mall while Annabelle and Caleb went back to her car, where she snagged her laptop. They entered the mall and went to a coffee shop on the ground floor. Annabelle started clicking keys while Caleb accessed the Internet on his phone.

She said, “Search for anything having to do with this mall. See if you can get the building layout, what all is here, that sort of thing. I’m surfing the Web to see if anything pops.”

After thirty minutes Caleb looked up. “I’m not finding much. But there is a place in the garage that is blocked off. I can’t find anything on the Web to tell me what it is.”

“The garage?”

Caleb nodded.

“Forget the Web, let’s go see for ourselves.”

CHAPTER 5

Robie studied Stone’s face.

“My briefing?” he said.

“You look surprised.”

“That’s because I am.”

Now Stone studied him, his gaze moving up and down Robie.

“What do you do for a living?”

“Is that any of your business?”

“I’m just asking. I work in a graveyard. And you?”

“I’m a lobbyist.”

Stone shook his head and pointed at Robie’s right hand. “Not with those calluses on your thumb and forefinger. I can’t think of anything that gives those marks other than firing thousands of rounds of ammo.”

“I’m a weekend skeet shooter, “said Robie.

“Of course you are. And I’m trying out for American Idol.”

“You must have me confused with someone else.”

“I am rarely confused on points such as this.”

Muffled sounds from outside the room interrupted them. Both men jerked when they heard them. More hand tools operating. A saw again. And what sounded like a hammer. And then a crowbar.

“Can’t people hear that from outside?” asked Robie.

“Doubtful,” said Stone. “Since we can barely hear it.”

Robie looked around at the other hostages. “You’d think folks would start missing some of the customers in here. Or the workers. They probably have families and homes to go to.”

“Which means whatever these men are doing can be done relatively quickly.”

“A jewelry store and fur shop will have vaults that have to be broken into.”

“A good point. An obstacle that would take far more time to get through.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” said Robie.

“I really don’t think so either. My friends will probably arrive at the same conclusion. But there is something else that is located here.”

“What’s that?” asked Robie.

“Private residences. On the upper floors. Very exclusive private residences inhabited by very rich, exclusive people.”

“You think that’s the ultimate target?”

“I don’t know. But we can’t discount it.” In the dark he looked closely at Robie. “How is Shane Connors doing?”

Robie said nothing.

Stone continued, “He was a protégé of mine. I haven’t seen him in years, of course, but once he did mention an up-and-comer in our profession, and his description pretty well matches you.”

“Never heard of him.”

“Well, it’s not a priority right now,” said Stone. “We have other things to concern ourselves with, don’t we? But tell him I said hello.”

The two men stared at each other for a few brief if telling moments.

“How many floors hold residences?” asked Robie, finally breaking the silence.

“Several, up to the penthouse.”

“Who lives there?”

“I don’t know exactly. They’re rich, like I said. They would have to be to afford a place like that. Probably some VIPs thrown into the mix.”

“But I wonder why today? Why strike a target like that today?”

Stone looked thoughtful. “You’re thinking that some sort of an event might be taking place today and that’s what triggered all this?”

Robie nodded.

“Interesting thought for a lobbyist skeet shooter,” noted Stone. He turned his back and slid out his phone. He called Annabelle and told her this information.

He clicked off the phone and was putting it away when they heard footsteps approaching. A few seconds later the door to the room burst open.

In the dim glow of his flashlight they could see that it was Adam Chase. He shone his light around, checking them over one by one.

A moment later emergency lighting kicked in, allowing them to see him more clearly. He clicked off his flashlight.

“It appears that someone has been making a phone call from in here.” He held up his machine pistol, to which he had attached a suppressor. “Now, which of you was it?”

None of them said anything. Chase came forward.

“Which one of you was it?”

He put the muzzle of his gun against a female teller’s head. “Was it you?”

She whimpered, “No, I swear to God it wasn’t me. I don’t have my phone. You took it. You can search me. I don’t have a phone. Please, please.” She jerked back away from him.

Stone stepped forward.

Chase pointed his gun at him. “The manager said you were trouble. Said you were stoking the fires back here.”

Stone ignored this. “None of us have phones,” he said. “You can have your men search us all. Your information must be wrong.”

Chase pointed his gun at Stone’s head. “How about I start with you?”

Stone said, “Feel free.”

Chase spoke into a walkie-talkie and a few moments later another man came in and thoroughly searched everyone in the room. No phone was found.