Right to Kill

  “We’ll leave an anonymous envelope of cash. Is that better?”

  “Marginally,” said Harv.

  “Hey, I’ve got to go, my Lincoln just arrived, and I need to leave the confiscated stuff for Delta. I’ll see you guys in a few minutes.”

  After the exchange, Nathan got into his car and found a note on the seat: Vincent Beaumont sends his regards. I trust you’ll keep our involvement confidential.

  He smiled. It had been Beaumont Specialists Inc. watching their backs. Outstanding. BSI’s private military contractors regularly worked for the CIA. He’d have to send a case of wine to Vincent when this was over.

  He called Harv back.

  “We’re almost there,” said Harv. “We can see the on-ramp.”

  “My car’s fifty feet around the corner.”

  “Glad to hear it. We can’t get out of here soon enough.”

  “Amen to that.”

  CHAPTER 24

  After a brief stop at a twenty-four-hour convenience store for a bathroom break, food, and hydration, Harv got them back on the highway.

  They drove in silence for a few minutes. Nathan liked that LG didn’t fill in the silent moments with meaningless banter.

  “How’re the ribs?” Nathan asked LG.

  “Now that the action’s over, I’m noticing them more.”

  “Adrenaline does that. Headache?”

  “A little. When we were shooting it out in the showroom, I felt . . . I don’t know . . . disembodied. Almost like I was acting in a play. It didn’t seem real.”

  “Happens to Harv and me too.”

  She didn’t respond.

  “Anything more come to you about Cornejo? The kind of threat you pose to his presidency?”

  “Nothing. I know there was a large reward on my head right after we rescued Glen, but it was purely for revenge’s sake.”

  Harv looked in the rearview mirror. “Reward? Really?”

  “Yeah. Kind of scary, actually. It was a million bucks dead and two million alive.”

  “Interesting,” said Nathan. “I guess we have to consider the possibility that Cornejo reinstituted the bounty along with his other purges, and the twins are trying to collect it. Two million in cash is a strong motivator.”

  Linda said, “Man . . . I hadn’t realized how hungry I was.”

  “In the Marines, we had an adage: Sleep when you can. It’s also true for food. We should change back into our civilian clothes. Harv can change once we’re parked somewhere.”

  “At least I’ve got some privacy back here,” LG said. “I know how damned horny you grunts are.”

  He smiled at the slang term. “Don’t worry, LG. We already saw everything during your rescue.”

  “And . . . ?”

  “Let’s just say it was truly memorable. I was especially impressed with your—”

  Nathan’s encrypted phone saved the day. He answered Cantrell’s call.

  “No hit on any property yet, but let’s stick with the plan for now.”

  “Looks like we may be heading into some snow up there.” Nathan told her they planned to liberate some ski clothing.

  “Hold off doing that. I’ll have Delta take care of it. I’m assuming you’ll need one set of XXL, one set of XL, and one set of small?”

  “That’ll work. In white, or very light gray, preferably.”

  “You got it. Delta will make cell-phone contact with you within the next twenty minutes or so. We’re tracking your location, so they’ll rendezvous with you once they’ve got the ski clothing.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Put me on speaker.”

  Nathan did.

  “I want you three to know that DNI Benson is very appreciative of your efforts.” Cantrell paused and no one interrupted her. “Linda, earlier this morning, I asked Nathan if you were able to remember anything that Cornejo might consider a threat, but I don’t want you to feel overly pressured over it. DNI Benson asked if you could be holding something back and I told him no. I just want you to know my trust in you is absolute.”

  “Thank you, Director. The DNI would be remiss if he didn’t consider the possibility of subterfuge on my part. I’m willing to come in at any time. Just give the order.”

  “That won’t be necessary. I’ll call once we’ve analyzed the contents of Ashton’s wallet.”

  Nathan watched the call go abruptly dark. He was actually getting used to it. Maybe he’d develop the same technique with Harv. What’s the point in saying goodbye, when the conversation’s over? It’s over.

  “The good news is,” Nathan said, “we don’t have to break into a retailer to get our snow clothes. Delta’s going to handle it.” He thought for a moment. “Something just hit me. We need a taxi. Tomas will be expecting his brother to arrive in one.”

  “LAX isn’t too far away,” Harv suggested.

  “Let’s try something else first. LG, see if you can locate a big hotel somewhere along our route over to ACH, maybe in the downtown area. Harv, where does the highway start?”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s off the Foothill Freeway west of Pasadena. I’m checking.”

  “Once we find a hotel, we’ll call and ask if there’s a cab waiting. Maybe Delta can meet us there.”

  “About the twins, I have an idea,” said LG. “You could send a text to Tomas saying you don’t think it’s wise to have the taxi take you all the way. Tomas might suggest a meeting spot.”

  He thought for a moment. “That’s a brilliant idea, but let’s give Cantrell more time. We’ll use it as a fallback plan.”

  “Actually,” Harv said, “it’ll still work even if Cantrell finds the location. It might give us a better chance of taking the twins by surprise.”

  “I like it,” he said. “LG, did you find a hotel?”

  “Yes. The Ritz Carlton downtown. It’s right next to the Staples Center off the 110. There should be lots of cabs around.”

  “I know where it is,” Harv said. “I attended a huge private-security convention there a few years back.”

  “Good. I’ll text Cantrell and let her know where we’re going so she can pass it along to Delta.”

  Right after they arrived at the Ritz, Nathan received a call from Delta. Their smash-and-grab at a sporting-goods store had gone down without a hitch and they’d be arriving at the hotel within five minutes. The delivery would be handled the same way as the radios. Nathan was told to look for Delta’s vehicle in an urgent-care parking lot across the street. He said he’d leave the rest of the confiscated phones and wallets from Santa Monica Exotics on the passenger seat. He thanked them again for their help.

  He called Cantrell, who still hadn’t located any Cornejo holdings in the San Gabriel Mountains. She thought LG’s idea was tactically sound and gave them the green light to give it a try. She also agreed with the need for a taxi.

  “We’ll keep digging,” she said. “Let me know how Tomas responds.”

  “Will do.”

  “Hopefully we’ll find your destination while you’re on the road.”

  “I’ll text you after we hear back from Tomas.”

  Several taxis were staged near the Ritz’s entrance. A valet approached and asked if they were checking in. Nathan said they were just dropping someone off but they needed to make a quick call first. With a pleasant smile, she told them to take their time, it wasn’t busy.

  “Okay, LG. We’re going with your idea.”

  He dictated a message in Spanish:

  on my way

  Nathan found himself holding his breath and tried his best to hide it. Even though Harv was in the process of changing clothes, it didn’t work—there was little his friend missed.

  Harv said, “Don’t worry, it’s gonna work.”

  A long half minute later, Ashton’s phone dinged.

  “Here we go.”

  where are you?

  Nathan sent:

  Just passing downtown. It took forever to get a taxi

  The response was:
/>
  just get up here ASAP. Don’t drive up to the cabin. We’ll meet you in the west parking lot of the ski resort. Text me from the Cajon Junction.

  Nathan sent back a simple okay.

  “We’re in business. LG, you’re on the ski-resort reference. Harv, does that ring any bells for you?”

  “No, it’s been decades since I was up there.”

  “No worries. Find out where Cajon Junction is.”

  “I think it’s on the Fifteen, but I’ll verify it.”

  “I’ll update Cantrell while you guys are doing that.” Nathan started a text, then decided to call.

  “What’s up? I only have a minute.”

  “A minute’s all I need. Tomas wants to meet us—Ashton—at the west parking lot of a ski resort up there. He obviously doesn’t want the cabbie to know where they are. We’re at the Ritz Carlton, about to get a taxi. Delta will be here any minute with our cold-weather gear.”

  “Great news. And now for the not so great news, this isn’t easy for me to say—”

  Nathan saved her the trouble. “Delta’s not coming up the mountain with us.”

  “No, they aren’t.”

  “DNI Benson?”

  “I spoke to him a few minutes ago and gave him a complete update. He didn’t insist I pull the plug, but he strongly . . . suggested it. The escalation at the dealership that spilled onto the street wasn’t your fault, but it’s exactly what he wanted to avoid. Having said all of this, it’s my decision, and my decision alone, to pull Delta and our other teams.”

  “Thank you for being honest, Rebecca.”

  “You deserve nothing less.”

  “We’ll grab the twins when they show up to pick up their brother.”

  “It may not be both of them.”

  “If that’s the case, we’ll deal with it.”

  “The situation permitting, I want an update from the ski resort. I’ll call if we find any Cornejo properties up there.”

  The call ended.

  “Sounds like we’re on our own,” Harv said. “Did Benson pull the plug?”

  “Cantrell.”

  “We knew it could happen. Besides, for Delta to be effective, they’d have to arrive well in advance to reconnoiter and set up their surveillance assets and there’s no time for that. And since they can’t directly support us . . .”

  He finished Harv’s sentence. “Their presence won’t do us much good. LG, what’d you find?”

  “It looks like . . . there’re only two ski areas along ACH: Mount Waterman and Mountain High. I’m checking them out.”

  “We’re looking for a ‘west’ parking lot. That should narrow it down.”

  LG nodded. “The Mount Waterman website says it’s closed, didn’t get enough snow from this latest storm . . . I’m checking Mountain High.”

  Nathan felt the pangs of pressure and took a deep breath. Patience, he told himself. They’d have an answer soon enough.

  “Cajon Junction is the intersection of Highway 138 and the Fifteen,” Harv said. “From what I can see on the map, it’s the east terminus of ACH.”

  “Got it,” LG said. “Mountain High’s the place. East and west parking lots, and it’s open for business, I mean, not now, but it will be later this morning . . . It says they can make snow. Probably why they’re open and Mount Waterman isn’t.”

  “Where’s the nearest town up there?”

  “Wrightwood,” Harv said. “It’s a few miles east of the resort. I’m looking at it on the Google Earth app.”

  “What’s the fastest way over to the Fifteen?”

  “The Ten. It runs into the Fifteen just past Ontario Airport.”

  “We’ve got enough to get moving.”

  “From our current location,” said LG, “it’s a little over eighty miles to the ski resort.”

  “Good to know.”

  After formulating their plan, Nathan asked Harv and LG for everything they’d collected from the gamblers. After Harv put on his waist pack and got out, Nathan pulled away from the entrance and drove across the street. In the urgent-care lot, he recognized the same vehicle from the on-ramp and pointed it out to LG. Bag in hand, she slid out and approached the car. She touched its hood before looking into the rear window. Smart thinking to check for engine heat first, he thought. She left the bag, grabbed the bundle of clothing, and hurried back to his Lincoln.

  Delta had liberated light gray ski pants and coats, which would work well. Dawn was still a couple of hours away, but they’d be cutting it pretty close. Nathan would prefer to engage the twins before the sun came up.

  Leaving the lot, he sensed LG’s uneasiness. She was definitely preoccupied. He couldn’t blame her. Glen’s murder still weighed heavily on her. All told, she’d done extremely well, and Harv’s comment about feeling comfortable with her in combat was a strong confirmation. Harv wouldn’t exaggerate, even for LG’s benefit.

  He figured she needed another task to stave off the depression that would set in during the quiet time. “While Harv gets our cab, take a look at ACH. It would be good to know what other highways or major roads connect to it.”

  “No problem.”

  His phone vibrated once with a text from Harv.

  I asked the driver to sit tight for a minute. Where are you?

  Nathan told him to use the same street they came in on and look for his Lincoln just past a white, three-story building.

  Nathan watched the cab approach in his rearview mirror. “I’ll be right back,” he said and got out.

  CHAPTER 25

  Linda turned to watch. She had to admit, McBride and Fontana made a formidable pair, but they seemed overly concerned about killing. When the situation called for it, you killed. Simple as that. She didn’t have any regrets about the thugs at the dealership. She supposed Glen’s murder had hardened her heart. More than that. It had cemented it.

  McBride approached the passenger door of the cab and got into the front seat. Nothing happened for a good minute.

  Then the driver’s door opened and a small African American man got out. He slammed the door in anger and began walking back toward the hotel.

  McBride also got out. The cabbie turned and said something, but McBride ignored him. After McBride slid into the driver’s seat of the taxi, Fontana climbed out of the backseat and hustled over to the Lincoln.

  “We’re in business,” he said, driving away from the curb. She glanced over her shoulder and saw McBride pull in behind.

  “What’d you guys say to the cabbie?” she asked.

  “We gave him two choices. We told him there was a national-security emergency and we were commandeering his cab and giving him a thousand bucks for his trouble, or we were taking his cab and not giving him a thousand bucks. He chose the former.”

  “You guys keep that much cash on hand?”

  “Between the two of us.”

  “And if he calls the cops?”

  “He won’t.”

  “How can you be so certain?”

  “Because I took his wallet and told him I’d overnight it back to him if he upheld his end of the bargain. I made it very clear if he didn’t, we’d be paying him a visit later and explaining the error of his ways in the form of multiple broken bones and contusions.”

  I’m liking these guys more and more. “When you said you were getting a cab, I didn’t think you were gonna jack one.”

  “We’re improvisers.”

  “If you say so.”

  Fontana’s phone rang. He put it on speaker.

  “Pull over somewhere,” said McBride.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I need to yank the meter and leave it behind. It might be GPS enabled.”

  “You got it.”

  “Let’s use our radios from here on.”

  She turned around and watched McBride tug and yank on the device mounted on the dashboard until it came free. A second later, the device flew out the passenger’s window and clunked on the sidewalk along with its severed wiring
.

  “I’ll bet he enjoyed doing that,” she said.

  “No doubt.”

  A minute later they were speeding east on I-10.

  Nathan knew engaging the twins in the parking lot of the ski resort held all kinds of variables, none of which could be predicted, made worse by the absence of Delta Lead. As Cantrell pointed out, there was no guarantee both twins would be there unless they planned to leave immediately after picking up their brother, which was a strong possibility. Should the taxi be waiting in the lot? He believed the answer had to be yes. Why would Ashton stand around in the cold when he could stay in a warm cab and pay the driver to wait? He wouldn’t.

  Nathan was too big to play the role of the cabbie. Not one in a million taxi drivers were six foot five inches tall. Somewhere before arriving at the ski resort, they’d switch vehicles. Harv would drive the cab and LG would be in the back playing the role of Ashton. And that presented its own set of variables. The arriving vehicle would undoubtedly drive right up to the taxi. It wouldn’t take long for Tomas or Ursula to realize LG wasn’t Ashton, especially when she didn’t immediately get out. Nathan figured he’d have less than five seconds to make his move or Harv and LG could find themselves in a meat grinder. He’d go over all the logistics again and get their input before they arrived at the ski resort. He didn’t feel comfortable with Harv and LG being in the taxi, but if it looked empty when the twins arrived, it could spook them into bolting.

  Tough call.

  They had the advantage of darkness and were going to beat the sunrise by at least an hour. Still, the Bustamontes’ headlights would light up the interior of the cab like a Broadway stage unless they drove in dark, which would be a strong possibility, especially if they didn’t want to draw any attention to themselves.

  So many ifs.

  He doubted whether either of the twins would remember what he or Harv looked like. LG was a different story. She’d changed her appearance, but they’d still recognize her. If the arriving vehicle came in with its headlights on, Nathan had a backup plan. He’d take out the tires and try to shoot the windshield in a way that didn’t risk hitting any occupants. This op would be ten times easier if we didn’t need them alive, he thought. He supposed he would’ve taken the job anyway, even though they weren’t contract killers anymore.