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  Inside the apartment, he moved quickly toward the bedroom, saw the door open, fired, saw the third gangbanger fall, moved sideways, dropped and fired as the last man came rushing out from the second bedroom.

  Adam ejected the magazine and replaced it with a full clip. He walked quickly to the front door, dragged the dead gunman away, closed the door, and engaged the slide lock.

  14:38:49

  Mick puffed and grabbed the stairwell handrail for support. “Last time I take the fucking stairs.” He adjusted the strap of the machine gun across his broad chest and looked at Donnie, “Hey, call ’em. Tell ’em to wait for us.”

  “Call ’em yourself, you fat shit. You see ‘Mick’s cocksucker’ tattooed on my forehead?”

  “Prick.” He coughed and spat yellow mucus over the handrail. He pulled the cell phone from his back pocket and dialed the boss’s number. The line connected after the fifth ring. He hit the speaker button. “Hey, boss, we’re almost there.”

  Static, rustling, puffing. “Roof. On the roof.”

  Mick looked at Donnie. “Shit!”

  14:40:31

  Adam dropped the dead man’s phone and returned the dining room table. Leading them to the roof would buy him some time.

  The Team’s toolbox was well stocked. He found what he needed quickly, pushed the box away, and strode into the kitchen.

  He carefully strapped the AK47 to the kitchen bench top. Two shoelaces joined together threaded through its trigger guard and tied to the end of a cooking pot.

  He adjusted the pot to balance on the edge of the sink, swiveled the faucet directly over the pot, and turned the water on to a trickle. Once the water rose within the pot, it would tip it over into the sink, yank on the shoelace, and pull the trigger.

  He looked over it once more, then left the apartment.

  In the elevator, he stood at the front corner, directly under the security camera, and hit the ground floor button. He watched the doors close, held the gun behind his back, and stood casually facing the front corner of the cabin.

  The doors opened. He looked out into the foyer and waited. The doors chimed, started to close; he hit the button and they opened again. In the distance, gunfire exploded.

  He stepped into the front corner of the elevator, concealed by the wide door frame. Gasps and screams from patrons on the ground floor echoed off the tiled walls. Two men ran into the elevator, brushed past him, and smacked at the elevator buttons as they pulled weapons from their clothing. They stopped, saw him in the corner, swore, moved to aim their weapons at him. He fired from the hip, hit the basement button, and slipped out before the doors hissed shut.

  14:43:16

  Three blocks away, the sniper watched, ready as the rooftop door handle moved. He adjusted his finger on the trigger.

  The door opened in a rush. A man ran onto the roof pointing a large machine gun in all directions; a second man followed, red-faced.

  “Base. Activity on roof. Negative to target profiles.”

  “ID?”

  He looked at the badges on their jacket. “Gangbangers.”

  “Expendable.”

  “Acknowledged.” He took aim and fired.

  14:43:39

  Lilly removed the jumper from the store bag, pulled it on, and adjusted the earwig. She couldn’t contact Adam; out of range. Is he okay? Please be okay!

  She placed her backpack into the shopping bag and headed for the taxi stand on the far side of the shopping mall.

  She didn’t know where to go, didn’t know what to do. The Agency would find her eventually; she wasn’t a trained field agent. She was only a field tech, but she’d been on the teams long enough to know how they worked. She needed help.

  “I believe in you, Adam,” she whispered to herself as she walked. “I believe in you.” He would go after his family. He would survive; he would protect them. She knew he would.

  CHAPTER 4

  “Poker is never about the cards.”

  THE BOOK OF SEEKAY

  14:59:47

  Adam stomped on the accelerator of the stolen car, kicked at the clutch, pulled the gear stick down, dropped the clutch and hurtled through the residential street.

  My daughter! My wife! They were in danger. My family! He pulled on the steering wheel, screeched around another corner. Thoughts of his family in danger tortured him. Memories of his daughter laughing, smiling, hugging him flashed through is mind. Her innocence, his angel, threatened.

  Tears welled in his eyes. Anger. Fear.

  He had to get to her!

  He tried the cell number again. Disconnected.

  15:01:29

  Zelig ducked into the back of the limousine. His driver closed the door. He pulled the phone from his pocket and checked for messages.

  The gangbangers had failed to kill Dark at the safe house. His agents had failed also.

  The cell phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and recognized the number instantly. “Caitlin.”

  “Press conference went well. Initial commentary on the statements appears to be positive. Your proposed support of more aggressive investigative powers on identified threats has met very little resistance from the public.”

  “As planned.”

  “There is one reporter I’m concerned about. He’s asking too many questions, and starting to dig too deeply into the gang networks.”

  “Send me his details. I’ll get someone on it.”

  Zelig disconnected the call and stared at the screen. He dialed his boss’s number. “Hello, Director.”

  “Zelig. What’s happening out there? Just saw your press conference.”

  “Sir. It was Shirin Reyes. I suspect Adam Dark and Lilly Lewis to be aiding and supporting her.”

  “You have evidence?”

  “Naturally.”

  “I’d like to see it.”

  “Of course.”

  “Within the hour, Zelig.”

  “Yes, of course. In the meantime, we’re using every resource to locate Reyes, Dark, and Lewis.”

  “Locate. The kill sanction remains on Reyes, but Dark and Lewis, they are to be detained only, until I have an opportunity to review this evidence.”

  “Naturally Director.”

  “This mess at the safe house. You have men onsite?”

  “Yes. They report seeing Dark enter the building, then moments later ten gang-bangers entered. My men were on an observe and report assignment only. By the time backup could arrive, the gangbangers were dead, and Dark was gone. Lewis was spotted, but lost our agent.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Yes, Director. I’ll have an agent courier the files over within the hour. Is that all, Director?”

  “For now.” The line went dead.

  Zelig reflected back on the day. Complications had led to opportunities. Had Dark eliminated Shirin Reyes as he was tasked to, the opportunity to shape public opinion around his political agenda may not have gained such polarizing traction. He was one step closer to addressing the Appropriations Committee with a proposal that would inevitably shape the powers of his agency to spy on all members of the public, and more importantly, set up the interior for a shift of power within the Agency.

  One or two more incidents like those of earlier in the day would cement his power base. Time to formally get rid of Dark and Lewis.

  He dialed his aide’s number. “Lipski, draft a Form A1 for Adam Dark and Lilly Lewis. Reason for elimination cited as ‘Rogue Actions against the Agency’. I’ll get the Director’s signature when I return. Keep it quiet. Nine minutes. Have them ready.”

  15:03:08

  Shirin sat motionless in the back of the sedan. Tucked in the foot space, hidden within the shadows of tinted windows, she examined the large van with a pair of combat binoculars.

  The chassis moved slightly side to side. Shaded windows. Large antenna. A surveillance van.

  She was one block from her target. Did they know she
was coming?

  15:05:21

  Helene grunted over the back of the seat. “Harder, James. Harder.”

  She squealed as her body bounced forward rhythmically with every thrust. She buried her face into her forearm, wiped the taste of his cock off her tongue, and groaned loudly as he adjusted his position behind her.

  She turned to see her supervisor’s face flush red as he pumped deep into her exposed ass. She squeezed her buttocks tight and heard him gasp instantly. “Give it to me, James.” She stuck her ass out farther, taking the full length of his dick inside her. “What are you going to say, James? Are you going to tell them? Tell them I deserve the promotion?”

  She wiggled her ass, side to side. “Are you going to sign me off, James?”

  She saw him nodding, felt his hands grip her hips tighter, thrust in uncontrollable spasms, heard him groaning, and smiled.

  If he spoke of this, she’d deny it. If he didn’t support her, she’d show him the video and threaten to tell his wife. She was covered. The promotion was hers.

  His weight slumped over her back; she felt his penis grow suddenly flaccid. It slid out from inside her. His juices ran down her inner legs. She grimaced. It was worth it.

  His weight fell to her side, tumbled off the side of a chair, and slumped to the floor. “Oh my God, James, are you okay?” She jumped down from the chair awkwardly to check on him. At the rear door, she saw movement. A woman. Standing inside the van. Pointing a silenced gun at her. A flash. Black.

  15:06:07

  Shirin pulled the door closed behind her and looked over the digital displays fixed to the side of the surveillance van. There were images from outside the target house. Passive surveillance, or a prelim team?

  She looked at the equipment; impossible to tell if it was streaming live or via backup to a central server.

  She pulled the cell phone from her back pocket and dialed Marcus’s secure number. “I’m in a surveillance van. Need you to hack its comms and patch any incoming communications back to my cell.”

  Marcus’s deep voice smiled through the line. “That’s an easy one. How long have you got before the team comes back to it?”

  “They never left it.”

  “Oh.”

  “And re-activate the live feed, but loop it over with existing footage.”

  “Looking for some privacy huh? What’s the IP address for the primary PC?”

  15:07:07

  Adam hit the brakes hard, veered left, corrected, mounted the curb and cut across the intersection. Horns blared behind him. He didn't care.

  He dialed the number again. Still disconnected.

  On the straight road, he dialed his daughter’s school. It was answered on the fifth ring. “Hello. This is Adam Dark. Amber Dark’s dad. She has a parent teacher meeting this afternoon. I'm running late. Can you put me through to the teacher’s room?”

  He adjusted the wireless earpiece and turned up the volume. “Sorry, say again?” He glanced quickly side to side, floored the accelerator, and hurtled through the intersection. “No phone in the room? Fine. Can you please patch me through to their cell phone?”

  The engine revved into a scream; he changed up a gear. “I'm not asking for their number. Just for you to transfer this call to their cell phone. It's very important.”

  Ahead, traffic backed up, lines of brake lights flashing on and off. Adam scanned both sides of the road, changed down gears, reefed on the steering wheel, jumped the mid-lane lines, crossed over and sped in front of the oncoming traffic, then into a side street.

  “Well, isn't there someone else there who knows how to transfer a call?” He slammed his palm against the steering wheel. “How far is the room from where you are? Can you walk over there and give them a message for me?”

  He checked his watch, ten, maybe twelve minutes away…

  “Thank you! Please tell them there's been a family emergency and to wait for me there. It's very important they wait for me there. Can you tell them that, please? Thank you. No, I'll hold, I need to know they got the message, thank you.”

  15:09:12

  Lilly sat behind the bus driver’s seat, glanced toward the rear of the bus, then back to the front. She pressed against the seat. She had a good view of the passengers, and a quick exit through the front. Her hands still shook. She thumbed the private school’s name into her cell phone’s search engine.

  She pulled up the street maps, flicked back to the bus route app, and found what she needed. Two bus changes and a fifteen-minute walk.

  15:09:37

  Shirin pushed the dead woman’s feet inside the trunk and closed the door. She glanced up and down the quiet street. Jumped behind the wheel, checked her mirrors, and pulled away from the curb.

  15:09:54

  “Come on, come on…” Adam navigated through the back streets, found the entrance to the freeway, and pushed the car to its limit, merging, then overtaking traffic.

  He heard the other end of the line click and the lady he'd been talking with. “What do you mean, they're gone? How long ago did my wife receive the phone call? And she said nothing to the teacher? Just left? Did she seem worried? I know you didn't see her yourself, but what did the teacher say? For God's sake! What can you tell me?”

  Adam glanced at the cell phone display. She’d hung up on him. “Dammit!” He squeezed the steering wheel hard, yelled at everything and nothing, veered to the side, and took the first exit ramp.

  15:11:12

  Puffing, Smith stepped back from the beaten man. He rifled through the man's belongings piled neatly to the side. He picked up a bandanna, wiped the sweat and blood from his face, then cleaned his hands.

  He inspected his hands in the dim light, threw the soiled bandanna back at the sobbing man.

  He walked calmly back to his workbench, lifted the laptop monitor, logged in, and opened a secure browser. He activated the anti-tracking software, peered over the monitor, tested the connection security, then typed in the web address offered by the beaten man.

  Global United. International bank of the rich and infamous. He found the login icon, entered the account number, password, and waited. He scanned the screen, found the main account, and checked the linked accounts. Seventeen million dollars in total.

  He looked over the monitor and spoke to the man. “I’m impressed. Didn’t figure half-assed gangbangers would have this much stashed away…”

  He took the cell phone from the counter, hit redial, and waited for the call to be answered.

  “Secure?” Zelig’s voice echoed down the line.

  “Secure.” Smith rose from his seat. “You were right.”

  “How much?”

  “Total of eight million,” he lied, “with Global United bank.”

  “Transfer all of it. I’ll send you the account number in a minute. Your share will be wired to you within the week.”

  “Understood.”

  “Smith, good work.”

  Smith didn’t respond. He neither wanted nor sought his approval.

  “Status on Shirin Reyes?”

  “Teams in place. As you suggested, I’ll be joining them onsite shortly.”

  “Very good. Transfer the money, then get over there. I’ll send a cleaning crew to tidy up where you are.”

  “Understood.”

  Smith closed the phone, drew his weapon, aimed and fired.

  15:13:01

  Shirin clasped the last button in place, adjusted the belt around the black combat cargo pants, and reached for the belt holster resting against the lounge two feet away. The dead surveillance agent’s clothes were a little loose, but they worked.

  She looked into the hallway mirror as she manipulated her hair to match that of the woman lying dead on the living room floor.

  She stared for a moment longer into the mirror. It was her reflection, but for too long she felt detached from it. As though it were someone else's body, someone else’s face.

>   Outside the front door, she heard the rumble of a car engine. Tires crunched against the gravel driveway. She glanced sideways, adjusted the gun in her holster and waited.

  Keys. Jangled. Inserted. Twisted. Unlocked.

  She withdrew the sidearm and readied herself.

  15:17:47

  Smith closed the computer, packed it into the backpack, and walked out of the cellar. The encrypted message would reach the old man quickly.

  On street level, he walked a block to his waiting car. The team he had assembled to lay in wait for Shirin Reyes had reported back: no activity. It is only a matter of time… All the best hunters were patient; they had to be.

  She would come. He would be ready.

  15:19:02

  Walter Crisp felt the phone vibrate in his pocket. It was his private cell. A text message.

  He looked around the room. The boardroom was full. Discreetly, he glanced at the display. An automated alert. Eight million dollars had been deposited.

  He smiled.

  Planting Smith inside Zelig’s team had been a lucrative investment.

  Every mission, every extortion, every move, he took from it what he wanted, and that Zelig was none the wiser was a guilty pleasure.

  15:21:36

  Adam circled the block, saw nothing remarkable, nothing that hinted at a requisition team or surveillance. He slowed as he passed his home one more time. His wife’s car was in the driveway. He dialed the home number. No answer.

  Junk mail leaked out the front of the mailbox; the external shutter blinds were closed, no other noticeable tracks on the driveway. It wasn’t right. She never closed the blinds.

  Wait. A shadow moved past the window. His wife? Someone else? Impossible to tell.