The Darkest Day

FORTY-SIX

Victor released the showerhead when he was sure Guerrero was not going to get up again, and recovered the SIG and shook the water from it as best he could. He wasn’t sure if it would fire or not with water in the barrel and chamber and magazine, but it would dry out soon enough.

He stepped out of the bathroom, fast and smooth, gun up, but saw that Wallinger was not going to bother him so he tucked the weapon into his waistband and reached past Guerrero’s corpse to twist the taps and turn off the shower. He was soaked. There was no towel in the bathroom so he had to make do with swiping the excess water from his hair and face.

He swallowed the blood that had drained into his mouth from the cut on the inside of his cheek. The instinct was to spit it out, but that would leave his DNA and blood type behind. Swallowing blood wasn’t pleasant, but it was better than spending the rest of his life behind bars. He wiped the smear of blood from his lips with the back of a hand and pushed his cheek against his upper jaw to apply pressure to the cut.

He went through pockets, taking Guerrero’s wallet and identification and car keys and smartphone and spare magazines.

Victor left the bathroom and approached Wallinger, who was stationary in the lounge, slumped against a wall, his white dress shirt stained with blood where he had been stabbed multiple times in the abdomen and chest — a surprise attack, swift and savage. The knife that killed him was still buried in his chest, pinning his blue tie in place, an inch of bare blade protruding perpendicular from the dead man’s breastbone. It looked as if Guerrero had tried to remove it but the blade had stuck in the sternum. The fight in the bathroom might have had a different outcome had she been able to pull the weapon free and employ it after Victor had disarmed her of the SIG.

Had their roles been reversed, Victor would have had the knife to use in the bathroom because he would never stab a man through the solid bone of the sternum, and only in the chest with the blade on the same horizontal plane as the ribs, so it would slide between the bones and not become stuck. The corpse in the bathroom had never learned to do this or had been too rushed or sloppy to employ her knowledge.

Victor went through Wallinger’s pockets and compared his credentials to Guerrero’s. They looked as official and genuine as each other.

Wallinger was a little shorter than Victor and a little broader. Regardless, the suit jacket, trousers, socks and shoes fitted well enough for his needs. He was not going to turn heads dressed in another-sized man’s clothes, but that was fine by Victor. He left on his own shirt, given that it was not soaked all over and was less attention-drawing than a shirt marked with holes and bloodstains. Victor bundled his wet clothes and shoes into a plastic bag he found under the kitchen sink. He used a dishcloth to soak up some of the water from his hair and used his fingers to comb it until it looked respectable again.

When Victor went back into the lounge area, Raven was waiting for him.

He pointed Guerrero’s SIG at her face and said, ‘I want answers.’

Raven sat on the folding camp chair opposite Wallinger’s corpse. The red wig was gone and her own black hair was held back by a band. Her clothes were different too: jeans and a sweater replaced the suit. She looked relaxed and comfortable, but he saw from her pose she had not let her guard down. She was sitting on the edge of the chair, feet planted and square with her knees, and her head was over her hips. If required, she could launch up with speed. However casual she acted around Victor, she did not put herself at needless risk. He paid her the same compliment by keeping his distance and never letting her out of his peripheral vision.

‘Such a mess,’ she said and frowned at the body between them. Then she looked up at him and said, ‘Do you always leave a trail of corpses wherever you go?’

He shrugged. ‘It’s not uncommon. But two separate entities have tried to end my life on the same day. Even for me, that’s a little on the high side. So start talking.’

‘Killing everyone who gets in your way is hardly the best way of staying unnoticed, is it?’

‘Something tells me these two aren’t going to notice me again.’

She smirked. ‘Surely better for them to not notice you in the first place than leave corpses behind for others of their ilk to notice?’

‘It’s a vicious circle,’ he admitted.

She looked at the gun in his hand, still aimed at her. ‘If you’re not going to shoot me, could you point that thing somewhere else?’

He tucked it into his waistband.

‘Thank you. Did you have to steal his clothes? Are you really struggling for cash that badly?’

He ignored her.

She studied him, annoyed he wouldn’t take the bait, and then her expression became more serious. She glanced at Wallinger’s corpse. ‘Who were these guys?’

He tossed her the two IDs. She scrutinised them, running a thumb over each one in turn, as if she could measure their veracity by touch alone.

‘It’s a genuine ID and genuine badge,’ Victor said.

‘I don’t know either of these two,’ Raven said. ‘But it’s really not smart to kill federal agents. Whatever their temporary risk to you, you’ve done yourself far more harm than good. Do you know how many cops and government agents are in this city? Or in this country? Do you have any idea the lengths they’ll go to to get justice for these guys? You should have run. You should have done anything you could to avoid capture and get away, but you never should have killed them.’

Victor said, ‘You told me before they weren’t real agents.’

‘No, I told you they weren’t on genuine Homeland Security business. You’ve made things a lot worse for both of us by killing these two.’

‘Look at the knife,’ Victor said. ‘Tell me what’s wrong with it?’

She looked confused, as if trying to work out what trick he was attempting before deciding he was, to her surprise, being genuine. She leaned forward for a closer look. It only took her a second to see what he meant. He hadn’t expected her to take any longer.

‘Why did you stab him through the sternum?’

‘I should have gone for the ribs, right?’

‘Obviously, but with the blade thrusting on a horizontal axis so it wouldn’t have become trapped on bone. I would have thought you would know better than that.’

‘Exactly,’ he said. ‘I do know better.’

Her eyes rose to meet his own. ‘You’re saying you didn’t kill these two?’

Victor said, ‘I’m saying I didn’t kill this particular one, but I did take his clothes. He won’t need them again. The dead woman in the bathroom is my own work. She stabbed this guy here, and then tried to kill me. I was acting in self-defence. I haven’t stayed alive this long by killing those who I don’t need to, especially people who will be missed who have powerful friends.’

‘Why did this Guerrero try to kill you? And why did she kill her partner?’

‘She tried to kill me because I said your code name. He wanted to take me in. She couldn’t let that happen.’

‘Why would you use my code name?’

‘To test a theory,’ he answered. ‘And to find out if you were telling me the truth before.’

‘I’m offended.’

He shook his head. ‘No, you’re not.’

‘True, but this would all have gone a lot smoother if you would just trust what I tell you.’

‘I trust no one. Least of all the word of people who have tried to kill me.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘You’re not going to let that go, are you? It’s not healthy to hold on to grudges. Forgive and forget, as they say.’

‘What are you doing here, Constance? Why didn’t you get out of the city while you had the chance? I might not have found you again.’

She frowned. ‘I really wish you wouldn’t call me that.’

‘What are you doing here? What am I doing here?’

‘Apparently, I’m helping you see the obvious.’

‘Which is?’ Victor asked.

‘Halleck set you up.’

‘Of course he did. But I still don’t know why. He told me he didn’t send you after me. I believed him.’

‘That’s because he was telling the truth. He didn’t send me after you, it was the other way round.’

‘No,’ he said. ‘I was after a Saudi prince.’

She was shaking her head before he’d finished talking. ‘He orchestrated it so I came after you, but his intention wasn’t for me to kill you. It was for you to kill me. So, technically, he was telling the truth. He must have thought you, being historically so effective at taking out threats, would be more than a match for me.’

‘Then he overestimated my abilities.’

‘More like he underestimated mine. But it’s irrelevant, because we both walked away from that encounter. Which gave him a problem: I was still breathing.’

‘Why does he want you dead so badly?’

Raven said, ‘Because I’m trying to stop him.’

‘Trying to stop him from doing what?’

‘Committing a terrorist attack on US soil.’