Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

T he grey skies above hinted at another round of snow coming into DC as he exited the Metro green line just north of the Capitol. He didn't drive, because he wanted no GPS tracking of his own car to trace his movements. Same reason he'd left his regular phone and smart watch at home. Even with leaving his personal tech devices at home, this city had so much virtual security with surveillance cameras and traffic cameras, he'd worn a beard and a baseball cap to help hide him from the cameras. Facial recognition might pick him up, but he'd had just enough plastic surgery to keep most people from recognizing him from his old life.

Except Zoe Edgars.

Damn the woman. How had she recognized him? He'd spent the past four days trying to retrace his steps to figure that out. What had tipped her off to him being alive and in DC once more?

Despite chasing her on that rain-slicked road, putting two bullets in her, and leaving her to die at the bottom of that mountain, he had the uneasy feeling he'd missed something. That was Zoe. Even in death, she'd haunt him and muck up his plans. Which is why he'd sent Dodger and Styx back to find her phone. Until he heard from them, there was nothing he could do about the situation. What he could do was focus on his mission. To do that he needed to confirm his quarry's itinerary for next week. Thus, the reason he'd come to the sports bar to meet with his asset.

Standing across the street, leaned up against the lamp post, hands shoved down in his jean pockets, he waited for Freddy to arrive and go inside the bar. For another few minutes he studied the traffic, both cars and pedestrians. Had anyone followed Freddy? Did anyone seem out of place? Anyone watching him? Anyone circling the block or watching the bar itself?

Satisfied that the answer to all those questions was a no, he crossed over quickly and slipped inside. As usual the place was busy even mid-afternoon with regulars, out of town tourists and local businessmen. Four TVs mounted behind the bar, as well as others along the walls angled for the customers in the booths to view them, carried all the local and international sporting news or events. Today it was college basketball games on half the sets. Professional football analysis for next week's playoff games was on the others.

Without worrying about the bar seating or anything near the window, he wove his way through the patrons and servers on his way to the back wall of booths. Freddy was paranoid about being seen with him and wanted an escape route out the back if he saw trouble coming at him from the front. It was also the darkest part of the bar. The camera surveillance focused on the entrance, the cash register and bar, and one camera on the back entrance. No cameras covered the area where Freddy sat drinking a beer and munching on fried cheese sticks. Freddy said eating while they met made them less conspicuous to the wait staff. He suspected the other man ate because it settled his nerves.

He slid into the booth across from the government lacky. If you needed a man from central casting to fill the role of a non-descript bureaucrat—skinny, glasses, thinning hair, slightly hunched posture, today wearing a blue button-down shirt and khaki pants—Freddy would be your choice. For State Department workers, Freddy blended into the background like pale wallpaper better than any. It was also a reason he'd been able to gather information and pass it on, for a fee, of course.

Unfortunately, for Freddy, this would be his last assignment and all that money he had stashed away in a foreign bank account wouldn't be used by him. His wife, on the other hand, would definitely live comfortably.

"About time," the younger man muttered, not looking away from the football game on the screen above Quintus' head. "Thinking you weren't coming."

"Just making sure you weren't followed." He motioned for the waitress and ordered a drink. He'd prefer a good scotch, but his persona today was a working man who liked beer, so a lager it was. "Did you get it?"

"It wasn't easy. They're beefing up security in and out of the building," Freddy said removing something from his puffy winter coat. He laid it on the table with his hand covering it, right next to his cell phone. "You know the deal."

"What? After all this time, you don't trust me?" He said, with a chuckle. Pulling out his own phone, he opened the secure banking app, typed in his code, then the payment amount to be transferred to Freddy's account and hit send.

Ten seconds later the other man's phone dinged. Payment received. Freddy checked his phone screen, pocketed his phone and slid the flash drive across the table to him. "It's got everything you asked for. The itinerary for the summit, list of speakers and attendees, and the floor plans for the conference site."

"Including the electrical and communications lay out?" he asked as he pocketed the flash drive.

"Those took a bit of effort. Old buildings didn't always keep the plans of the electrical, but because the place was updated with fiberoptic cable in the last few years, I hacked into the contractor's data base to pull those schematics for you, too."

Pulling out a small, giftwrapped box from his other jacket pocket, Quintus hid his smile internally and slid the box across the table. He'd been expecting Freddy to push for a bonus. After every meeting where Freddy provided all the information he'd asked, he'd reward him with a packet of coke. He'd first approached him at a party with a little ‘favor' of high-quality product. From there it had been easy to flip him into an asset. When he needed him for future projects, he simply provided more of the same. Tonight, however, Freddy went from asset to lose end. So, he'd added a little of the Fentanyl product his cartel brought across the border into the packet. Once they were finished, Freddy would sample his bonus and only for a matter of minutes would he get to enjoy it.

Freddy pocketed the box, finished his beer and headed for the men's room, leaving him to pick up the check as usual. Freddy was nothing if not an opportunist at every level.

Quintus motioned the waitress for the check, paid cash with a decent, but not memorable, tip and left the bar. Outside, he once more crossed the street to stand near the lamp post and observe the street. He glanced at his watch. He'd wait ten minutes minimum. It took twelve before the EMT vehicle approached, sirens blaring. Too long for any Narcan they administered to be effective in counteracting the Fentanyl. Freddy was no longer a problem.

?

"This is where the GPS said Zoe's phone was last," Luke said as they made a turn in the winding mountain road.

Dave pulled the car to a stop on the side of the road up against the mountain and hopefully out of the path of any cars coming along in either direction, even though their tire tracks were the first in the deep snow for miles. "Let's get out and have a look."

They'd all dressed appropriately for the snow and cold in all-purpose hunting camo, hiking boots and insulated coats. If anyone drove past, they'd look like local hunters. Carefully, they trekked across the road to the far edge and looked down.

"Damn snow has everything buried," Dave muttered as the neared the edge of the mountain.

"Maybe if I get a little closer." Matt inched forward until he had a grip on one of the tall black oaks lining the roadside and leaning out over the mountain drop-off.

"Careful," Luke said holding onto his belt as he leaned out with his binoculars.

Matt searched the steep slope of the mountainside for any sign of Zoe's vehicle. It took a few moments.

"I see an SUV down there." Matt pointed to their left. "Probably a hundred and fifty feet down. The front end wedged between two evergreens. The back end is covered in snow."

Dave paced up the road in the direction Matt had pointed. "Looks like the guard rail was wrecked here."

"About another five feet," Matt instructed, and he moved that distance. "Yeah. Straight down from there."

"Here." Katie came up behind Dave and handed him a road safety flare.

He lit it and tossed it in the direction of the evergreens below. "That close enough?"

"Should be," Matt said as he straightened, and Luke helped him back onto the edge of the road. "The SUV's backend is about a yard further down.

"I can see it now with the flare," Katie said. "I don't see anyone sitting inside, but that doesn't mean anything. She could be slumped down in the seat."

They gathered back at their vehicle and started loading up supplies. Katie's backpack was filled with medical equipment. Luke's held water and food. Matt had tools for getting into the car if needed. Dave? The former SWAT team member carried ammo. They were all armed with sidearm weapons, while Luke had his sniper rifle strapped onto his back.

Dave pulled out two bundles of thick, bright green nylon climbing rope from the SUV and tossed one to Matt. "We'll lower Katie and Luke down to the car, then you go down. I'll stay with the SUV. We don't know when road maintenance will get to this road, or when another car might come this way. I want to be sure we have a way to get down this mountain and back home," he said, then his face went even more serious. "With or without Zoe."

"I'll take Katie," Matt said as they approached the edge of the road once more.

"Sure, leave me with Luke's dead weight," Dave said.

"Thanks. Make me sound like I'm useless and fat to boot," Luke countered as he stepped into his harness and buckled it in place.

"You have been gaining a little weight lately," Dave said as he tied a figure-eight knot into one end of the rope, which Luke threaded through the loop on his harness. "Married life will do that to you."

"It's muscle mass, which weighs more than fat and you know it." Luke fed the end of the rope back through the figure-eight knot Dave made, then pulled the rope tight. Finally, he made a stopper knot to secure the last six inches of the rope out of the way above the figure-eights.

"Which means you weigh more," Matt said, as Katie tied off her rope and harness exactly as Luke had. "I'd prefer to guard my wife's safety down this mountain, the fact she's at least fifty pounds?—"

"More like seventy," Katie cut in with a pointed look at her husband to dare disagree.

"—seventy pounds lighter, is just a bonus for me."

"Thank you," Katie said, leaning in to kiss her husband quickly, then stepped onto the edge of the mountain. "Now if you guys are finished bickering, Zoe's down there somewhere in the cold."