Read Longevity Online

Authors: S. J. Hunter

Longevity (18 page)

If the underground level had been eerie, the ground floor and upper floor were downright creepy. Disturbed by drafts from the windows Livvy had destroyed across one side of the house, the smoke was drifting over marble floors and opulent furnishings and wreathing the fallen forms of the guards like mists on a moor. Louie stopped and sniffed each sleeping man's face, as though he was creating a record for his own file, but he didn't alert them to anyone still active in the house.

"That was creepy fun. A haunted house. I kept expecting one of those guys to reach out and grab my ankle," Livvy said as they walked out the front door.

A few of the Spritzers were still sputtering out on the lawn and in the flower beds, and there were some pink clouds in the east. Although the perimeter wall was too high to see it, the sun had come up while Livvy had been inside.

"Do we worry about the neighbors? Bruno said they wouldn't even call."

"Bruno's right. They're either with us, and glad to see us doing our job, or, sad to say, all too anxious not to draw attention to themselves," Chris said.

"Even if they didn't pick up your badge, they'll assume that if it was anything other than LLE, or at the very least, if Bedford had nothing to hide, that his security would call it in. If they know Bedford at all, they'll dismiss it as a raid on a hotlab."

For Livvy the strangest sensation yet was walking out the ornate front gate as though they were revelers departing after a very long night. Now that they were on the street they could see the sun, a brilliant yellow with an orange halo easing into red highlights under the few clouds. A new day, her sixth in LLE.

"Where are we going to start?" she asked as they approached the car. "Bedford has three more properties in the immediate area, another one in D.C. proper, and two in Adams Morgan. These are his high-end apartment buildings. Then there are the warehouses and retail properties which, as far as I could tell from the official records, are all currently leased to active enterprises. Of course, he could have easily falsified some of that information. He also owns a horse farm out near Lexington, which he appears to use as his private country residence."

Chris was already on the new comu Livvy had given him, studying a map as he walked. When Livvy mentioned the horse farm, he looked up.

"That's where we go first," Chris said. "Bedford's been paying Josephson for years. He needs someplace isolated and pleasant where he can maintain another hotlab and keep the doctor happy and where he can live in safe and comfortable seclusion while he stages the identity switch. A nice place in the country where he'd be less likely to be spotted accidentally."

"Do you think he'll have a lot of guards?" Livvy asked plaintively.

"If Josephson and Jesse are there, probably at least as many as here. How many clips did you bring for the Stingers?"

They'd reached the car. Louie jumped into the back and Livvy set her pack on the floor in front of her seat so she could rummage in it.

"I've got plenty of duoloads and I saved some Smokes. By the way, you need to tell your friend Cara, the next time you see her, that I am half in love with her husband. Bruno thought of everything."

"He does that. I guess you've had a long night," Chris said, easing into the driver's seat.

"I'll be okay. Just a little tired. Missed some sleep. Psyched a coworker. Dodged some bullets. You know the kind of thing."

"The thing is, Hutchins," Chris said, and shifted in the seat, "I'm not sure I can do this without you."

"McGregor. You took two 45's at point blank range. You've probably got broken ribs and you're moving like an old man," Livvy said as she watched Chris try to get comfortable.

"Like I said..."

"You're welcome," Livvy said.

When they'd gotten onto the glassene on their way to Lexington, Chris prompted her, "The coworker...?"

"Agnew, in a moral quandary."

"Well. Williams is his partner."

"That seemed to be the focus of the quandary, although no doubt he is eaten up with worry about you somewhere deep inside, too. He said he didn't really know anything, but he gave me the address, which, strangely enough, Williams visited openly one day while they were together."

"So we have some strong evidence against Williams. A Forensics investigation into his finances would probably do the rest," Chris said flatly.

"But you knew already, didn't you?" Livvy asked.

"No," Chris said. "He was my only suspect, that's all. There's a difference. We still don't know."

"Actually, we do."

"How? I don't remember seeing who shot me," he added, "or who took me to Bedford's, but I owe him. What made you sure that Williams is in Bedford's pay?"

"As I said, he lead Agnew to the mansion. But he let slip that he knew about the bunker. Is he a stupid man?" Livvy asked curiously.

"No," Chris said. "Not at all."

"I didn't think so either. It was pretty obvious.

"What happens to him? Williams? Agnew should come out okay. At least, I did what I could."

"Good. He has potential," Chris said. He grew thoughtful. "So Williams gave himself away, and not unintentionally."

"Either he wants to get caught, which is what I suggested to Agnew, or it's a trap somehow. I'm too tired to decide."

They had reached the section of glassened highway that ran through the countryside. The road had some low spots that were holding a thick fog and the trees on either side were more verdant and lush in the dawn light than anything Livvy remembered from coastal California. She stared out the window, wondering if she could hold up for another skirmish.

"Livvy." Chris sounded almost apologetic. "I need to hear if there is anything new on our prisoners and that finger."

Livvy yawned and leaned her head against the window so she could watch the countryside. "Don't worry, you're not asking for much. Nothing. Not a thing. Maas still won't talk, and our two pros, assuming the finger came from a pro, are still anonymous. It takes deep pockets to achieve that kind of... obscurity."

"It's another reason for the hotlab. It's part of the compensation package for assassins on retainer. Free, undocumented resets so they can continue to stay off the grid. Goes a long way towards creating loyalty to an employer. Dust that. They've had their last," Chris said from a long way away.

 

Chp.15 Combat Escalation (Saturday)

 

Livvy jerked awake, aching just about everywhere.

"Get enough sleep?" Chris asked without raising his head. They were pulled over by the side of a road just off the highway and he was studying a map again on the new comu Livvy' had given him as they left Bedford's mansion.

"Where are we?" Livvy asked, rummaging in her pack until she found a pair of energy bars. She handed one to Chris and, started opening her own.

"About 25 kilometers from Bedford's place."

"Please, please don't tell me you want us to run the rest of the way from here to preserve the surprise."

"Could you?" Chris asked, lifting his head and looking at her as though to assess her conditioning, then suppressing a smile and turning back to the comu. 'No, you're not ready. Too many years in Homicide. We can't afford the time, and it would put me way ahead of you"

Livvy stopped eating. "Either I've just been doubly insulted or you're not thinking clearly yet. We're not splitting up again. You're practically incapacitated. We're going in together and getting Jesse out." She started pawing through her pack again.

"Bruno gave me a few more tricks," she said. "Of course they'll all be awake even if they haven't been alerted to what happened in the city, so the advantage I had at the mansion..."

Chris put a hand on her arm and when she stopped and looked at him, he said seriously, "Here's our problem. I took three Stingers, which means it was too much for my reversal implants and I was out for hours."

"It could have killed you." Livvy said.

"Not likely. The point is, whoever shot me probably has access to everything LLE uses on a regular basis, and they had plenty of time to inject a tracer. The tracers LLE uses are unjammable. We have to assume he knows I'm coming."

"Slick," Livvy said. "Well, we have to think of a way around it. There must be something..."

She took another bite of her energy bar. When it hit her, she quickly swallowed. "You
know
Williams is out here and that he tagged you because it's what you would have done. What you did! You did the same to him. When? How?''

"Two... no three days ago. His shoes. I set it up in a barbed spike - one of Bruno's toys - near his desk and he obligingly stepped on it.

"It's one reason I was so sure we should start in Lexington. I should have been able to pick him up in town if he was at any of the other properties you mentioned, although it was always possible that he'd just go home - he lives in Davie - which would put him off the grid as well. Or worn different shoes, I suppose. I just confirmed that Williams, or at least his shoe, is here in Lexington. Which makes us either right on target or on our way into a trap. What are the odds, do you think?"

"Or Williams is here with his shoe and knows we're coming, but hasn't told Bedford. We should start an office pool. You tell me, since you've known him longer, would keeping it secret from Bedford appeal to him?" Livvy asked. "Perhaps he's had it with Bedford and his ego."

"It's where I'd put my money," Chris said agreeably. "Playing the wild card. William's favorite role."

"I like my poker pure. So we've narrowed it down: Bedford knows we're coming, or doesn't," Livvy said. "This will be fun. We'll need to be quick and pack efficiently." She pulled a clip belt out of her pack and started putting it on.

"We'll go in simultaneously from two directions," Chris said.

"Don't you think we should stick together? You'll need some cover."

"No. It wouldn't help. They may know
I'm
coming. I'm also not in any shape to be jumping fences, as you so kindly pointed out," Chris said. "You're another matter. You aren't tagged."

Livvy sighed. "All right. Give it to me. You know, you've had a nice long run but I haven't a clue
how
, and I'd really like to know," Livvy said. "Breathing," she added when Chris looked at her quizzically.

"You get to stealth your way in the back way, neutralize the guards, and find Jesse. I walk in the front door and distract Bedford and talk to Williams."

"Uh huh. Like I said." Livvy folded her arms. "My partner, who is straddling the line between merely gimpy and totally laid up, wants to walk in and confront the people I just salvaged him from. You working on a dare, or do you just have this driving need to haze the LLE rookie? Williams is corrupt, no matter what kind of game he thinks he's playing. In the end, he knows that unless he kills you, and probably me, his career is over and he goes to prison."

Chris was silent.

"Doesn't he?"

"LLE handles things differently."

"I get it, I do. And I'll never forget it, as long as I live."

"And more importantly, at the moment, Williams knows it as well."

There was a longer silence.

"I know LLE reveres the Laws with a capital 'L' but operates one step away from anarchy, in secrecy. I understand that it's all to save everyone else from chaos. But you guys are still all brainsick. Mickey Bedford and her bodyguard are dead, and Bedford has Jesse, and Williams is definitely a bare-bellied snake," Livvy said slowly.

"Hutchins. Stowe the outrage, or at least focus it. We can't know that Williams anticipated Mickey's murder."

"No," Livvy admitted, "we don't know what he anticipated. Williams might have his head where no head should fit and he only heard about Mickey and Jesse when Enforcement did, and he may not be in on the big plan. But he's out here now, and we think Jesse is too, don't we? So he has to realize..."

"As far as Williams is concerned, it may have slipped away from him," Chris said. "All of this, before Mickey died, could fit in with a rich man's determination to preserve his personal hotlabs and relationship with Josephson. Even what he did to me could fit in with that. Williams may have some inkling now that it's much more than an issue of some hotlabs, but feel he's in too deep. He's probably feeling like a tiger on a leash. I can fix that."

"Jackal. That's jackal on a leash," Livvy said distractedly. "I know he's LLE, but you have no idea how Williams will react. He may shoot you, really shoot you, not just with Stingers, on sight."

"I've worked with him ten years."

"He doesn't even like you," Livvy added, meeting his eyes.

"I'm aware. It's mutual. But I know a little about what matters to him," Chris said.

"Maybe less than you realize," Livvy said, with a worried look on her face. "You don't think like him."

"Possibly," Chris said, "but I've had a lot of experience trying to communicate with people who don't think like me. I still need to talk to him. And since we can't do an all-out two-pronged attack, we need the distraction. If I wasn't already tagged and in no shape for running I'd flip you for it. Hell, you're a walking billboard for distraction. Hopefully, we were successful at maintaining some secrecy at the Potomac Falls house and they won't even be watching for you, even after I show up."

"Billboard?" Livvy said distastefully, then noticed that Chris appeared to be staring at her chest.

"What?" she asked, annoyed, and looked down at her tunic, which she'd already toggled back to off-white. It should make her less visible than the black she'd used last night.

"I was just thinking. We're too urban. You really should be in camouflage. I'm going to suggest you spend a few moments rolling in the mud before you get close to the farm," Chris said. Livvy opened her mouth, but not a word came out.

"If Bedford succeeds, he'll never let us live," Chris continued without a pause. "We know too much and I suspect he'll be unhappy with what happened in his home in the city. For the moment, he still wants to find out where his weaknesses and leaks are. He wants to know what we know and how we know it. For now, that's leverage. But the longer we wait, the less protection it buys us, because he'll see that nothing else is happening, and then he'll realize the only people that may be able to tie anything to him are the two of us. The fact that it is unusable in court won't matter. He'll want us dead."

"I'm beginning to understand," Livvy said cryptically.

"What?"

"Never mind."

"Meanwhile, Jesse is in Josephson's hands," Chris added as the clincher after a very brief pause.

"All right," Livvy said. "You drive in and poke at the lion and his dog - jackal - in his own den. I trot in cross-country. Just try to get me within trotting range, please, and don't get killed until I finish dealing with the hired help.

"And McGregor, some advice," Livvy added succinctly. "Don't ever call a woman a walking billboard again, especially when you're trying to get her to agree to something."

 

• • •

 

Livvy was furious. Her feet were soaked. Her 25 year-old-body, normally taken for granted, was sore and exhausted. And there was no one within range at whom she could vent her dissatisfaction. In thirty years experience, she had never faced this sort of ordeal. She was keen to find a target for her fury, and she had three in her figurative sights. Williams. Bedford. Josephson.

She had adroitly - she thought - slipped out of the car when Chris had done a quick stop about two kilometers from Bedford's horse farm. She had climbed over the white rail fence, rolled in some handy mud, and started resolutely jogging, occasionally slogging, through the orchards and across the pastures. The terrain was soaked with dew and harboring low spots with shallow puddles from an overnight shower.

Their plan was to position her in the woods behind the farm, with the house between her and the road, while Chris drove up and walked up to the front door. He had made it sound simple and inevitable, which she supposed it was, especially since he was in no shape to be jogging and slogging and they probably knew exactly where he was at any time anyway. If he didn't come to them now, they would eventually find him anyway.

No doubt Bedford had legions of ruthless assassins holed up in a secret basement. Chris believed that if he walked in voluntarily they not only wouldn't kill him immediately, but that they would stop everything else to deal with him and find out what he was up to, especially if they thought he might be ready to give them the information they wanted. While she thought he was right in so far as Bedford and Williams were concerned, she doubted that the assassins would be all that interested in what he had to say. She suspected she was going to end up battering her way through a troop of them to find Jesse.

She was glad she was furious. Her fury was keeping her on her feet and moving quickly, although her mind was racing and she needed to focus. It had been years since she had experienced this sort of sustained adrenaline boost, but she remembered that it could be a tricky master. If she kept thinking about Jesse and Mickey, it should be enough to see her through.

Her first goal was directly ahead, a large building she'd been watching ever since she'd been dropped off. Given that it was huge, windowless and set back from the road behind an orchard, she figured it was a barn, which made it a good place to start. She and Chris had discussed the fact that they were going in blind as to the number of security personnel and extent of remote imaging, but they'd concluded that they had no real choice. As with the last skirmish, she had to go in fast and keep moving and hope they stayed lucky. Sprizter'n'smokes weren't going to help them here in the open country during the day. At least she still had a tunic; Chris was going in, by choice, with only his vest.

Her approach brought her to the rear of the barn, and from there she eased around the corner to the side away from the house. It smelled of dried grass and dirt and seemed entirely too innocent for the evil she expected to confront somewhere ahead. There was the sound of a non-glassened vehicle getting louder, and when she stuck her head out away from the building she could see it approaching along a gravel road from the direction of the rest of the farm buildings. A small tractor pulling a wagon and driven by one man.

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