He nodded.
'What are you, like, some kind of killer mushroom?'
Now it was David's turn to frown. 'I don't follow.'
'Do your superiors keep you in the dark all the time and feed you lots of shit?'
He chuckled at the analogy. 'No, not all the time. But you say you're a thief, yet you're hanging out with ecoterrorists. They don't have a lot to steal — unless you like diseases, I suppose.'
'No, I'm a data thief. System hacker, that sort of thing. The greenies were just a cover, they were conveniently located next to where my bro — where I did a job.'
David thought about the Wyvil Road house for a moment and he had difficulty wrapping his mind around it. 'But the nearest target with any data worth having is — MI-6.'
'I can neither confirm nor deny that statement.' Maggie actually smiled for a fleeting second. 'Isn't that what you government types say when you want to tell the world something but can't?'
'I've never had the opportunity to use it myself. So the guys chasing you — they're not MI-6 security. They wouldn't have cleansed the house — they would have arrested everyone there. They know you have what you have because…' he blinked again at the realization '…they hired you to do it?'
'Maybe you should have been a detective instead of a hired gun. You seem to have the knack for it.'
'So, what happened? Is the adage true — no honor among thieves?'
Maggie looked over, and the ferocity on her face startled him. 'You're lucky I'm driving. Otherwise I'd slap that look off your face. I've already lost more on this job than any amount of money can replace.' She took a deep breath and collected herself, bringing the now racing car back down to the speed limit. 'Even with my experience, the job was much more difficult and time-consuming than expected, leading us to invoke the additional-expenses clause in our contract. Our employer chose to disagree, and tried to enforce their decision with those assholes at the house and train stations.'
David noticed the change to plural, but continued the conversation. 'They almost succeeded, too. What makes you think they aren't still after you?'
'I've been keeping an eye out for tails, and haven't seen anything behind us. Besides, we gave those guys the slip at the hospital. I can't possibly see how they'd find us again.'
'If I had my phone, I could make sure of that. I could scan for bugs, tracking devices, that sort of thing. That guy might have planted something on you in the station.'
'Not likely. He was too busy trying to get me outside,' she said.
'Do you mind if I take a look at your computer bag anyway?' David asked.
'I don't see any reason,' she said.
'Humor me. Besides, it will keep me occupied during the trip.'
She sighed. 'Very well, but don't open it.'
Turning awkwardly in the bucket seat, David managed to retrieve the case from the backseat of the car with a minimum of jostling to his wounded shoulder. It was a simple padded nylon case, with plenty of pockets on the exterior to hold just about anything a computer geek — or hacker — would need. David examined the pockets first, carefully emptying them and running his free hand along every inch of the interior. He next turned his attention to the case's exterior, and after a long examination, found what he was looking for, embedded in the nylon near one of the plastic feet the case rested on when it was set down.
'You mean he couldn't have planted something like this?' he said.
The item he held up was no bigger than a grain of rice, and matte black, to blend into the case's surface. It had a little claw that would hook into just about anything. David found it was surprisingly difficult to remove.
Maggie peered at the black speck in his palm. 'Is that what I think it is?'
'If you think it's a tracking device, you're right.' David rolled down the window and opened his hand, pitching the tiny bug outside. 'When you have a chance, I'd suggest getting rid of all your clothes and that case and scanning your computer, in case they were able to plant a program in it, as well.'
'That I know they didn't do — my firewall is impossible to crack. Nobody gets inside but me.'
'Maybe so, but doing the rest of it wouldn't hurt — preferably, before we arrive wherever it is we're going.'
'Why are you so helpful all of a sudden?' Maggie asked.
Because I already know who's going to win this round, and it isn't going to be you, or those other guys, he thought. 'Because I want to show you that I can help you — out of this situation, maybe even out of this life you're in. If you want me to.'
'Here, we can stop here and change.' Maggie pulled off the highway at a small town. 'But no phone calls. In fact, I think you'll stay here in the car altogether.'
'If you insist. I suggest leaving the engine running — it would be much harder for me to hotwire it with a bum arm.'
'At least I know you won't take off on me,' she said.
'I could leave you stranded here, you know,' he replied.
Her level gaze met his. 'You could, but I don't think you will.'
The corner of David's mouth quirked up a passable half smile. 'We'll never know. Here.' He held out a folded sheaf of Euros. 'Find me something loose and comfortable. A hooded, zip-up sweatshirt would be fine. And a belt to sling my arm.'
Maggie looked from the money to his eyes, her brows narrowing with suspicion.
'Go on, it's fine. If you're really running off the grid, you can't have much, and you need to change out of that outfit.'
'Are you saying you don't like it?'
'Somehow I see you wearing something more tasteful in your everyday life.'
With a final squint at him, as if trying to see if he was putting her on, she snatched the banknotes from his hand and also took the laptop case from him. 'Thanks.'
David leaned back in the seat, content to just keep an eye on her. He knew Room 59 agents would have been dispatched to all major cities in the area. Given their direction, he was pretty sure he knew where she was going, and he fully expected that there would be a welcoming party there — just not the one she was expecting.
33
Anthony sat in the helicopter seat as he and Gregor flew north, toward Belgium. His face was set, betraying no hint of emotion as he stared straight ahead, trying to come to grips with what had just happened over the past hour. Not only had he lost the woman again — but that cocky, smiling bastard had killed Liam right in front of him.
He had worked with Liam for three years — an eternity in the PMC trade. They had functioned like perfectly matched bookends, with the laconic Brit seeming to read his mind at times, always backing his play, yet knowing when he might be pushing the odds a bit too far. They had crossed the globe a dozen times over, fought and schemed in backwater villages on rivers that had barely been named a few decades earlier, and run operations in the largest metropolitan cities in the world. And now he was gone. To Anthony, it felt much as if one of his limbs had been cut off, leaving him crippled. Not that he would show it, but he felt it inside — a hollow space that might not ever go away.
At least Gregor took out their leader. And I got two more, which leaves only him. After the helicopter went down, Anthony had almost chased the two survivors when he saw them climb out of the aircraft before it went over the side of the building. But the jump to the lower level of the other building was too much to risk. And besides, he had cleanup to do.
He had carried Liam's body back inside and taken the elevator down one floor, where he found a wheeled cart and a sheet to cover his partner with, along with a white lab coat for himself. In the confusion over the crash, he had managed to locate a janitor's closet, where he had wrapped Liam's body in heavy-duty garbage bags and borrowed a uniform and a janitor's cart. From there it had been a simple matter to walk out a side entrance and make his way back to the SUV, where he had ditched the cart and packed Liam inside, ignoring Gregor's questioning glance. Anthony had instead offered him a cigarette, which the tall Russian had accepted. 'Covers up the smell,'
