Running Dark

46

TARRANT DRANK FROM A HUGE CUP OF COFFEE WHILE HE WATCHED Darkview’s back door. A white EpiPen sat on the passenger seat. He’d decided it was time for the Stromeyer woman’s hit. She was no longer any use to him, and he needed a way to get to Banner. Show the man that they meant business. The Vulture had approved killing her at last. Everyone knew that Banner depended on his vice president to keep the corporation humming. Without her he’d have a hell of a time surviving. She did all the intricate paperwork required to ensure that the defense contracts kept flowing.

Tarrant was going to enjoy watching her spin out of control. He would inject her, throw her in the panel van he currently sat in, drive her to a secluded area, watch her die, and bury her body. Let Banner wonder for the rest of his life what had happened to her. Served him right. He should have caved earlier. Dismantled Darkview and disappeared. Of course, Banner wasn’t going to live much longer either, but still…

Tarrant opened the ibuprofen bottle and threw back a pill with a coffee chaser. His schedule was one pill every four hours. He’d started them after injuring his back in a car accident. The injury had healed, but the pills remained. The entire problem almost got out of his control after a bad incident when he was working a joint deal with a particular drug cartel. His job was to rough up one of the cartel’s American-based contacts suspected of skimming off the top. Tarrant took him to a secluded area in handcuffs and beat him with a bicycle chain, all the while demanding to know where the money was. The contact never revealed the stash’s location, and he died of his injuries. Tarrant regretted killing the man before he could get him to talk. The cartel leader listened to the story and seemed to accept that the money was gone, but from that moment forward, Tarrant felt a presence at his back, hovering, like an ominous black cloud. He knew that it was the dead man. He popped more pills to keep the cloud at bay. Soon after, small incidents arose where Tarrant suspected that the cartel leader thought he’d scammed the money for himself. He felt he was being watched. The cloud remained, and sometimes Tarrant thought he heard laughter from behind him. He upped his pill schedule.

Tarrant’s phone rang just as the Stromeyer woman stepped out the back door. He was tempted to ignore it, but a quick glance told him that it was the Vulture. He shoved a hands-free wire into his ear and answered.

“She’s just coming out. Can I call you back?”

“No.” The voice on the other end of the line spoke with the authority of someone who expected to be obeyed. Indeed, few ever crossed him. Not if they valued their continued existence on this earth. Tarrant tamped down his irritation and did his best to keep a level voice.

“What, then?”

“Banner didn’t get beat, he did the beating. That’s the second thing you’ve botched. Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now.”

Tarrant felt sweat pop up on his forehead. Matters didn’t get better when he saw two men step next to Stromeyer. That they were bodyguards would not be immediately apparent to most, but Tarrant had dealt with enough trained fighters to tell that these two were not to be messed with. They were lean and tall, and both looked supple enough to move quickly in a fight.

“You didn’t let me use my usual guys, remember? You insisted on freelance, and quality control suffered. Every time one of my operatives was charged to do the attacking, the job got done.”

“Killing Cooley was an act of sublime stupidity. He was to be a test case, not a dead man. The police have an autopsy planned.”

Tarrant felt his heart racing. Now he had two ghosts hovering at his back. “That was unfortunate. I didn’t expect him to die.”

“I told you, two sticks and they die.”

“I know.”

“You’d better hope the drug works the way we’ve been told. I don’t need an autopsy confirming foul play.”

Tarrant’s stomach went sour.

“And Rickell’s safely in Europe.”

Tarrant wasn’t going to take the fall for that. “We weren’t able to get the guy alone after Church injected him. The loser gambled like some sort of robot. He sat at that table morning, noon, and night. Then he took off before we could grab him.”

“The runner got away, Rickell got away, Banner got away, and now Banner’s VP is marching around with two Darkview bodyguards.”

Tarrant felt nausea rising. That the Vulture knew already about Stromeyer’s security contingent meant he had another operative watching her. If he did, Tarrant would be rendered redundant. Once redundant, he’d be taken out. He scrambled to maintain his position.

“Listen. Cooley got hit, Rickell got hit, and Caldridge got hit. You wanted that to happen, it did.”

“I want Banner hit before he gets to Rickell.”

“Where are they?”

“Frankfurt.”

“Germany? I don’t have any guys in Germany.”

“Your African friend does. Call him. I want this done.”

“What about Cooley? I mean, do the police know anything?”

“You mean, do the police know you did it? No. I’m using my contacts to throw suspicion on Darkview. Everyone knows that Cooley was gunning for them. That means your guys need to get to Banner. Stick him, get some video dirt on him after he starts acting strangely, hit him a second time, then plant some evidence on him.”

“And the VP?”

“Kill her.”

Tarrant shut down his cell. The device danced in his shaking hand. He reached for the glove compartment, opened it, and pulled out a brown paper bag. He extracted a bottle of tranquilizers he used in those times when he found it impossible to sleep, pressed open the safety cap, and swallowed two. He threw the car into drive to tail the woman, his hands clutching the wheel.