She began to think he could be very useful indeed.
13
The two bureau cars turned east onto Pico Boulevard and rushed toward the skyline of Century City, an upscale complex of office buildings and shopping malls built on what was once the backlot of Twentieth Century Fox.
'Ever been to the Plaza?' Bickerstaff asked Tennant.
'In ’eighty-four, when Reagan was reelected. He held his victory party here.'
'And you were on their invite list?'
'Fat chance. I was working out of the LA office at the time. Secret Service brought some of us in for extra manpower on election night.'
He remembered that night-the tidal wave of votes crushing that wuss, Mondale. Afterward, he had shared a drink with some friends at the hotel bar…
'The bar,' Tennant said with a snap of his fingers. 'If she’s waiting to meet somebody, the bar is where she’ll be. It’s smack in the middle of the lobby. Gives her a way to watch the front doors without being noticed. And it offers more avenues of escape than any other part of the hotel.'
'If she’s in the lobby,' Dante said, 'she may see us as soon as we enter.'
'Right. So we go in fast, and we stay alert. Got it?'
They got it. There were no more smiles from Dante, no more smart comments from attorney Wilkins.
Jarvis hooked left onto the Avenue of the Stars-only in LA did they have street names like that-and steered the sedan into the curving driveway of the Century Plaza Hotel. A parking valet approached their car as the doors flew open. Tennant badged the guy. 'Official business, stay back.'
Tennant told the three agents from the second car to cover the hotel’s side and rear exits and monitor the tactical frequency on their Handy-Talkies. Then he led Wilkins, Dante, and J amp;B up the steps and into the lobby, his hand under his jacket, touching the Sig Sauer 9mm holstered to his hip.
She would have to kill him.
Amanda Pierce had never killed anyone, but she had no doubt she could do it. Survival was her imperative. Other lives were of no consequence in comparison to her own.
'You visit LA often?' she asked.
'Three or four times a year. I’ve got clients here. How about you?'
'First time in LA.'
'Business or pleasure?'
'Pleasure trip.'
Stevenson chuckled. 'Well, we can all use some pleasure from time to time.'
The lobby was spacious and elegant and nearly deserted at 1:15 A.M. The clerk at the reception desk gave Tennant a look that said, May I help you?
Tennant ignored him. The bar, identified as the Lobby Court, was straight ahead, its patrons in silhouette against the two-story windows that looked out on a spotlighted garden. Tennant led his team toward the bar, hardly daring to hope that Amanda Pierce would still be here, and then he saw her.
Dark hair, clipped in a bun. Brown blazer and slacks-the outfit she’d stolen from Agent Kidder.
She was seated at the far end of the bar, perched on a stool, a drink in her hand, chatting to a man who might be her contact or maybe some tourist trying to pick her up.
Her upper body was turned at an angle to give her full attention to the man beside her. She hadn’t seen them enter.
'Approach from all sides,' Tennant said. 'Remember your orders. You’ve got a green light.'
A green light to take her out. Just like James Bond-a license to kill.
'Of course,' Stevenson was saying, 'if you’re gonna stay in LA, this is the place.'
'It lives up to its reputation.'
'Yeah-unlike a lot of things in this town. Hey, can I refresh your drink?'
'Sure.'
'What’re you having?'
'Ginger ale.'
'Nothing stronger?'
'I don’t drink.' This was true, but even if she’d been a drinker, she needed a clear head tonight.
Wilkins and Dante veered to the right. Tennant, with J amp;B, headed left.
'I don’t see the suitcase,' Bickerstaff said under his breath.
'Could be against the bar, out of sight.'
'Or she could’ve passed it on already.'
Tennant shook his head. 'If she’d made the exchange, she wouldn’t hang around.'
Pierce still hadn’t looked their way. The man next to her might have registered their approach, but he showed no reaction. Tennant didn’t think he was the contact. Most likely Pierce’s contact hadn’t shown yet, and she was making small talk with this guy to be less conspicuous as she waited at the bar.
Wilkins and Dante were closing in. Pierce would see them any second now.
Before she could react, Tennant reached her from behind and clamped a hand on her shoulder.
'Don’t move,' he said in a firm voice that brooked no argument, 'you’re under arrest.'
A twitch of surprise from her, and she swung around on her stool. Tennant almost drew his weapon, and then he was looking at her face.
The right hair, right jacket, right figure-but not the right woman. Not Amanda Pierce. This woman was ten years older, with too much makeup.
'What the hell?' the woman said.
'Anyway,' Stevenson was saying as the bartender placed a fresh glass before each of them, 'you come to the Pacific coast, you want to see the Pacific, am I right? I like to sit on the balcony and breathe in the salt air. I always get a room with a Malibu view.'
'Malibu view?'
'Facing north-or is it west? The coastline zigs and zags so much, I don’t even know. But I like to see the lights of Malibu off in the distance.'
'I’ll remember that for next time.'
'You’ve got to ask for it special. That’s the thing about the MiraMist. They take care of their longtime guests. Treat you like family.'
'That’s good to know.'
'I’ve stayed at other places. The Beverly Hills, the Century Plaza-you ever been there?'
'The Century Plaza? Yes.'
About an hour and a half ago, she added silently. But I didn’t stay long.
Tennant left the bewildered woman and her consort without explanation. Pierce might still be here. After meeting her contact, she could have gone to some other part of the hotel.
He led his team to the pool area. No one was there.
'Coffee shop,' he snapped.
She must be here somewhere.
'Nice ambience, the Century Plaza, but I’ll still take the MiraMist. We’re, what, a half mile from the beach? You can’t beat it.' Donald Stevenson leaned back on his stool. 'Who knows? Maybe I’ll retire here.'
'That’d be nice.'
'If I could afford it.' He laughed. 'Property taxes alone would eat me alive. And then, wouldn’t you know, with my luck I’d be out here six months and they’d have the Big One and this whole town would slide into the fucking ocean.'
'I guess you can never be completely safe anywhere,' Pierce said with a smile.
No luck.
