“It’s leaning in that direction,” Hanley said. “I’ll call you back if anything happens.”
“Boss?” Court said again from the bedroom as Hanley hung up. “Might not have time to react if something goes down fast.” He was, once again, asking permission to leave the suite and get downstairs in case everything turned to shit.
Hanley ignored him. He said, “Gumdrop? You picking up any phone conversations?”
Gumdrop said, “She’s not talking on the phone, and not texting using her cell provider or Wi-Fi. Must be texting on Signal or some other encrypted app. I can’t pick that up. Her TV is muted; I’m not hearing any noises inside her apartment.”
Hanley nodded to himself, then said, “Six?”
Court called from the other room. “Yeah, Matt?”
“I want you and Teddy down at street level. Get me a tag number off one of those vics. Be ready to act if someone tries to move on Ortega.”
In the bedroom, Court turned to Arnold, who was now sitting up on the bed. “Take over here. Watch that gray Audi parked on the corner. Keep an eye on the street around it. If any more vehicles stop in the area, let us know.” He moved quickly in the darkness back into the living room. Travers was already up and moving, pulling on a heavy canvas coat and reaching for a neck gaiter and a ball cap he had lying nearby. Court said, “Chris…I’ll dress as a telecom repairman again, just in case I have to go into the building and scoop Ortega.”
“Roger,” Travers said. “Don’t forget something to cover your face.”
To the room, Court said, “Everyone on the net together.”
Gumdrop spoke up, her face glowing behind the monitors at the dining table. “I’ll open a group call on Signal to all phones. Everybody get your AirPods in.”
Hightower was still in the kitchen, but he moved over towards Hanley while he put in his earpiece. “What can I do?”
“You’re not operational,” Hanley answered flatly.
“C’mon, Matt. That’s three assassinations in the IC in the past twenty minutes, and we’ve got two vehicles around a woman in the IC who’s currently under surveillance by an unknown entity.”
Hanley deferred to Court. “Six? What about Zack?”
Court looked to Zack as he zipped up his brown coat and moved towards the door. “Zack, I want you downstairs.”
“Hell, yeah.”
“Behind the wheel of the GMC in the garage.”
“Oh,” he said, somewhat deflated.
“If we need a getaway, we’ll let you know.”
Hightower was already moving, grabbing keys off the counter. Unlike Travers and Gentry, he was unarmed. He was out the door first; the other men were still stuffing pistol magazines into their pockets and getting last-minute instructions from Matt, but a minute later Court and Chris exited the hotel room.
When they were gone, Hanley rushed to the position Travers had held behind the binos on the tripod. Looking across the street, he saw Ortegasitting there on the couch still, tapping on her phone, and he wondered if she was in danger…or if shewasthe danger.
—
The Belarusian assassin known as Spiral walked west on L Street NW, leaning into a cold breeze that blew mist into his eyes. This was a frosty night, but nothing near as cold as Minsk this time of year, so the conditions meant little to him from an operational perspective, save for one thing.
He wasn’t out of place at all wearing his wool scarf high on his face, just below his eyes.
Spiral walked alone, armed with his suppressed pistol inside his coat, a couple of extra magazines, and a fixed-blade knife in a sheath hidden below his coat on his right hip. He saw the Carriage House condos straight ahead, walked along with the Savoy building on his right, and sauntered past a couple of slower-moving pedestrians on the sidewalk.
He’d decided against using the latex mask provided to him by his American employer until the moment he hit the woman’s condo to lessen any chance of being identified as a threat. He’d move through the lobby with his scarf up, then change into the mask before he made it to the eighth floor.
As he reached the three-way intersection of L Street, 22nd, and New Hampshire, he turned his head to the right, eyed the black Ford Expedition idling on New Hampshire, and knew that three of his American support team would be inside, watching the street, ready to notify him if there were any police or other threats down here. He knew their second vehicle, an Audi sedan, would be straight ahead of him on L, just south of his target location, though he couldn’t see past the other cars parked between himself the Audi.
Spiral wondered, not for the first time, about the Americans who had hired him. Specifically, he wondered about their plan; if their intention had been to hire foreign killers to deflect any attention away from their own organization, then what was the rationale for having Americans supporting them, in close proximity to their actions? Couldn’t they be identified and linked back to whoever it was doing this in the first place?
He knew he wasn’t supposed to involve them in the assassinations,only in his surveillance of the target and the getaway, but he also knew that all these men were armed, and they were damn close to where the killings would take place.
