The Blonde

4:39 a.m.

Vine Street Expressway/II-616 West

The Operator spent the duration of the cab ride fantasizing about her. He found himself glad she’d survived this long. She had always been resourceful, despite her facade of bookish helplessness. He’d known she would go the distance. He never would have guessed two weeks, though. Vanessa must have tapped into some truly deep wells of ingenuity.

The cell phone in his jacket hummed. He plucked it from his pocket, flipped it open. It was his contact in CI-6. The woman he’d met during their tour of his facility six months ago. Back when he was still flirting around with Homeland Security, showing them a few impressive gewgaws and whatnot.

The one who was handling the buyers.

What was that Pet Shop Boys song about brains and looks and making lots of money? Well, he had the perfect killing machines. She had the contacts. It stood to reason that lots of money would follow.

Thanks to Nancy. His little shop double agent. Pretending to track down this mysterious “Kelly White” on one side of her mouth, arranging a virtual auction with the other. Nancy, with the pouty lips. She was no Vanessa, but… hey, he couldn’t fault poor Nancy for not being Irish. No one would believe that’s why he’d set up operations there in the first place. He loved Irish women.

“I’m in Philadelphia,” he told Nancy.

She mumbled something vaguely apologetic, which was unusual for her. But then again, she had failed him. He’d have to remind her of that when they met again, face-to-face. Now wasn’t the time.

“Have you decided where you’re going to be handling the business?”

“Tijuana,” he said. “Some friends from college went during spring break one year. Kept raving about it. I’ve always wanted to check it out.”

“And it happens to be conveniently located in Mexico.”

“There’s that, too. I’ll call you when I’m settled. Right now, I’m about to pay my last respects to the slut, so I’m turning off my phone. I don’t want anything to disturb our final moments together.”

Not true. If Vanessa were alive, he’d be keeping her alive for as long as she amused him. No need to get Nancy jealous, though.