“I know, but we best get ready, a biblical shit storm is heading our way.”
“And all we can do is weather through it and hope we survive.” I put out my smoke in the ashtray. “On the plus side, the FBI will keep us out of prison.”
“Silver linings.” He chuckles. “We need to try and take David Drake alive so we can expose the rest of the assholes pulling his leash.”
“I’ll do my best, sir.”
Few minutes after I hang up, the cell rings. “Agent Conroy, you piece of shit. I owe you for the knot on the head you gave me.”
“I’m sorry, Devora. Agent Conroy can’t come to the phone right now. His brain had an allergic reaction to a bullet. Don’t bother tracing the cell, I won’t be here, but I will give you the address to his corpse so we can begin round two. Come to Westshore Mall, and there you shall find the backstabber, James Conroy.”
“No political Bullshit on the planet is going to stop me from shutting your ass down.”
“Bravo, Devi. That’s the fucking spirit… anger will gird you for the storm to come.”
“What was the point of you killing the MP? I thought you only killed the guilty?”
“I needed something to get your attention. Plus, Conroy was planning to kill me, but to be fair, I was planning to kill him for your partner’s kids. I detest child killers, Devora. And as for the MP, she got in my way of escaping and tried to kill me. Self-defense.”
Interesting, Drake’s people must know the FBI is helping me now. So they panic, order Conroy to kill Drake to prevent the feds from getting to him.
“Now I must go. Conroy’s friends will soon trace the call.”
“You tell me what’s going on, you son of a bitch!”
“A warrior with no patience is nothing more than a rabid animal.” The phone hangs up.
Douchebag
I call Frank back. “Sir, I was just contacted by Drake, and he told me he offed Agent Conroy and left the body at Westshore Mall.”
“What! Why the hell would he do that?”
“From what I gather, Conroy was planning to kill Drake, and Drake had other plans.”
“Sounds like Drake’s people are trying to erase everything now that the feds are snooping around.”
“Munroe told me MI5 is crawling up MI6’s ass over Drake and Conroy.”
“We got to move fast on this, Lobos. My guess is their not done trying to silence Drake or you. Watch your six.” He hangs up.
Chapter 17
Conroy’s head is slumped against the steering wheel, his brains plastered all over the windshield with bits of hair stuck to the glass. I storm over to Frank. “Are you trying to throw us under the bus?”
“We’re already in the road waiting to be hit by it, but if it makes you feel better, I told them they’re not to talk to the media or anyone outside of the case.”
“Yeah, good luck with that. People talk, Frank. You know that as well as I do.”
“I know, but I did all that I could. At least that’s what I can tell myself if this goes south, and we lose our jobs,” he says, handing me a pair of blue latex gloves.
I kneel at the passenger side and pick up a strand of black hair which could be Drake’s, or blowback from the gunshot to the victim. I slip it into a baggy sealing it. A spent 9mm casing is wedged between the passenger seat and the center console. By the angle of the wound, Drake must’ve shot him from the backseat. “Detective, the victim’s contents are over here when you’re ready.”
“Got it,” I reply. “Drake ventilated this asshole’s skull from the rear. However, I don’t see Conroy’s gun. So now we got an armed escapee with two handguns. Our day just keeps getting better and better.” I shake my head. I take another look at the body and notice a line of bruising on the trachea like he was strangled and then shot “Drake disarmed him by choking him, he then turned the gun on Conroy, splattering his brains all over the windshield. I’m guessing nobody heard any gunshots?”
“Yep,” Frank says.
“Conroy was an MI6 agent. I’m not surprised his sidearm had a suppressor.” I walk over to the contents lying on the cloth and open the wallet; it’s empty. He took cash and left the cards, smart. The cell was left behind, too, another smart move by Drake. “So Agent Conroy drives Drake out here with intent to kill him, and it backfires.”
“Yep.”
A patrolman jogs toward me. “Detective, some Army woman says she needs to talk to you right now.” I glance behind the officer and see it’s the same bitch who insisted I play along with their little scheme. Fuck! Here we go. “Let her through.” He motions for her to come over.
“Well, this backfired on me.” Her voice smug and callous.
I sneer at her. “Oh, ya, think.”
“How’d you find out about this?”
“I got concerned when my MP Officer didn’t report back in.”
“Why didn’t you geniuses fly Drake from MacDill? Why’d you bring him back through my city?”
She flashes a cocky grin at me, the kind you want to slam your fist through till there is nothing left. “It’s irrelevant now, isn’t it?”
Some shit never changes with military brass.
“Hey, we’re out here cleaning up your fucking mess! So I’ll decide what’s relevant.”
“Yes, and your country thanks you for it. Now I suggest you cooperate with us on finding, Drake. I don’t need to tell you two; your careers are on the line
