Ambition: A Dark Billionaire Romance Anthology (31 page)

T
owards the end
of the week, I was spending an hour in the now re-established home office, Patrick having moved into my bedroom with me. He still had his apartment in The Playground, but that was merely for politics. He had to maintain a first or second residence in the district he represented to be eligible for office. In any case, I was spending an hour doing some research when one of Mark's computers beeped. Since they were set up to monitor things that were important to his vigilante work, I immediately saved and set aside the document I was working on, a letter to Gene and the Spartans requesting their input on the schedule of activities for the opening day of our first community center. "Mark?"

"Yeah?" he called back from the kitchen, where he was talking with Patrick. "What's up, Tabs?"

"Computer's beeping," I said as he stuck his head in the door. He looked, then pulled the HDMI cable out of my computer, sticking it in the slot on his. His face wasn't worried but intensely curious. While his bugs would record for later playback, there was something in his face that said he had a hunch about this time.

"Sorry, you can have it back in a minute," he said, watching the screen. The monitor flashed and kind of wiggled, then steadied as the computer registered and adjusted. Three notices were on the screen, as each of Mark's bugs from Francine Berkowitz's condo were sending notifications. The computer had detected the trigger words on the active bugs, and sent signals to the passive ones to turn them on as well. "Well, well, let's see what we've got."

The video feed and audio feed were actually composites from two of the bugs, spliced and clarified by the computer on our end. Because of that and because the system was monitoring for key words, we were actually watching a feed that was about a minute old.

"Yes, that sounds fine,"
Francine said. She was sitting on her couch, a glass of white wine in her hand as she talked on her phone. "
No, no way in hell am I bringing you to my condo. Patron, you may live out of Filmore, but that doesn't mean you're material for this neighborhood."

"Bitch has got some balls," I noted while we listened. Mark nodded, not commenting until the conversation was finished. I could see in his face, he was studying every facial expression and vocal inflection, trying to make sure what we were overhearing was real and not just an elaborate deception from someone who had found our devices.

"
No, I can't do it during the day either. Why? Do I really have to explain why I can’t be seen with you? All right, all right. We can talk details tomorrow night. Where? I know you live near the Park, how about there? No.... okay, I understand that. The docks? Why there? Fine. The Docks, eight o'clock? Pier thirty two. I'll bring the deposit, you make sure the meeting is secure. No visits from the cops.... or him."

"Sounds like Francine is expecting company," I quipped as Mark set the computer back to passive monitoring. It would still record, but only notify us if key words were tripped again. "What's this about Pier thirty two?"

"The Docks are one of the areas that are very open," Mark replied. "And Pier thirty two is one of the farthest out there. Approaching it is difficult at best, impossible at worst if the Latin Kings bring decent observation. The nearest buildings to thirty two are over a hundred yards away, and the approaches are all easily defended. Two roads, both going deep into the warehouses near the Docks, and the ground area is crisscrossed with only tiny little alleyways that are barely big enough for a mini forklift. That area is also rarely used, because of how old fashioned and out of date it is. Most of the sea traffic that comes into the Docks prefers to use the closer in, modernized berths."

"So they’re preparing themselves to have a visit from you," I replied. "They wouldn't put their backs against the sea with so few avenues of escape if they were just worried about the cops."

Mark nodded. "The thing is, they're not going to be anticipating one thing."

"What's that?" I asked.

"I know the time of the meeting. They're meeting at night because they can move a lot of soldiers into the area once the sun goes down. But, if we're already there...."

"They're walking into a trap themselves," I finished for him. "What's your idea?"

I
was
nervous as I walked into the Federal Building the next morning. While Patrick, Mark and Sophie would be in more direct physical danger that evening, I was still sweating. After all, I was revealing a lot to a man that I wasn’t certain we could trust. He was still a Federal prosecutor, after all.

"Excuse me, is Mr. Benjamin Fernandez in?" I asked the receptionist at the front. "I'm Tabitha Williams of MJT Holdings."

"I can see if he’s available," the receptionist, who was wearing a security uniform and had a Glock on his hip, answered. It was a Federal building, and while I could dimly remember an era when government buildings weren't the target for terrorist attacks, it was a hazy memory at best. I waited nervously while the man made a phone call, speaking quietly into the handset. He took the phone away from his mouth for a moment. "Miss Williams, what's the nature of this? Mr. Fernandez doesn't have you on his schedule, and is supposed to be in a deposition in twenty minutes."

"I understand," I said. "Tell him it has to do with the roof problems he had a little while ago. I know of a contractor that can assist him."

The receptionist gave me a strange look, but repeated what I'd said. His expression grew even more confused as he listened to the answer. He set his handset down and blinked. "Mr. Fernandez is coming down right now," he said. "Would you mind waiting over there?"

I took a seat in one of the few chairs over by the window, people watching for a few minutes. It was pretty easy to peg people based off of their clothes and their walk, a skill Mark had been working with me casually on for most of the winter. The law enforcement agents all walked the same, their shoulders back and their heads on swivels. The FBI guys were the worst, putting off a visible air of arrogance. With the reputation they'd garnered recently with taking down Owen Lynch and the Confederation, many of them probably did feel like they were masters of the city, or at least that they were on top of things. How wrong they were.

In contrast to the law enforcement types, the hordes of regular workers, analysts, and other jobs were also easy to pick out, although their individual jobs were more difficult to detect unless they carried something in their hands that gave it away. They walked like anyone else, half unaware of their surroundings, complacent in the security systems in place and in the common decency of their fellow man not to have anarchy break out at a moment's notice. After living with Patrick and Mark, both of whom had lived a life where complacency was a very risky option, it was somewhat off putting. It's not that the safety and security of good people is a bad thing, but I could tell many of these people were missing the good details as well as the bad details of life. They lived in a world made up of muted sepia tones, when the all around them was dramatic full color if they would just open their eyes and look. I wondered if I had been one of those people once, then shook my head. Of course I had been. It had taken being kidnapped, my heart and head screwed with, and then being put back together by the most important people in my life to wake me from my slumber.

I picked out Bennie Fernandez as soon as he stepped off the elevator. It wasn't just that he'd been in the newspapers, it was his facial expression. He wasn't as arrogant as the FBI agents, but he was confident. Also, he was aware, his eyes were taking in details with every step and breath. I could see why Mark had continued to work with him after breaking the information on Owen Lynch.

"Miss Williams, it's a pleasure to meet you face to face," Bennie said as he came over, shaking my hand in a firm yet still somewhat soft grip. I'd spent too much time with people who earned their callouses the old fashioned way I guess, because as aware as Bennie was, I could tell from his grip he still trusted things that I didn't have faith in. Like the security measures of the building. He'd be the man who could pick out who the real killer was in a movie, or see details in documents that everyone would miss. On the street, he might be aware enough to spot trouble before it happened, but most likely wouldn't be able to do anything about it personally other than run away. "I know I came by your house months ago, but you were unavailable. I apologize I never followed up with you."

"That's perfectly all right, Mr. Fernandez," I replied, remembering the visit Mark and Sophie had told me about. "I understand that you have big fish to fry, and my issue was small potatoes at the time."

"Well, it did seem to rise up again," Bennie said. "I was a bit surprised when a friend in the civil court clerk's office called me, telling me about it. I was glad it got dropped, honestly."

"Thank you. The guard said you have a deposition in a few minutes, I hope I'm not keeping you," I said.

Bennie shook his head. "I sent my paralegal ahead of me, they can get things started. It would be helpful if you and I could walk together though, I can save a few minutes if I head towards the RIST station while we talk."

I had to give it to him, it was a slick move. By getting us out of the building, he and I could talk more honestly without worrying about being overheard. Of course, he could have been wearing a wire, but Benny didn't know that I was also carrying something useful in my soft briefcase, a portable jammer that I could turn on just by touching a button on the case itself. It had a ten minute battery life, and would shut down any and all transmissions within a two meter radius, including cell phones and bugs. Mark had some pretty nifty gadgets.

"Sure," I said, turning to the door. I was wearing one of my suits, and shivered slightly as we left the Federal building and walked out into the late winter sunlight. I didn't know if he was telling the truth or just being deceptive, but I was willing to play along. "I took the RIST down here myself."

Bennie gave me a quick glance of slight surprise. "Oh? I guess I had you pegged for that Mercedes SUV you've been seen around town in. Mechanical problems? Or worried about a ticket still?"

I laughed and shook my head. Within the city, the law enforcement community was simultaneously close knit and very tribal. Rumors like my troubles made for juicy passing around, while facts on cases were guarded like precious jewels. "So you've heard about that too, huh? No, no ticket worries, just having it taken in for a full workup. With MJT being all about being eco-friendly, I gotta make sure it's tuned up. The winter wasn't too harsh, but still, all that road salt sure can play hell with the engine and undercarriage."

"I understand. I'm just taking the RIST because parking over by the site of the deposition is hell," Bennie replied with a chuckle. "Once you get a parking spot around here, you hang onto it with a choke hold if you need to. So, what can you tell me about my roof problems?"

"Well, we have a mutual friend who is interested," I said. We were clear of the building, and I looked around. Quickly, I reached into my pocket, then pulled out a flash stick. "Here. A gift from said mutual friend."

Bennie took the stick and made it disappear into his pocket. "Can I confirm any of this?"

"It's video and audio," I said simply. "But this comes with a simple price."

"What's that?" Bennie asked, looking at me carefully. "I've learned in my years working in government, sometimes the price might be too much."

I nodded. "Don't I know it? His price is simple. Don't tell your pistol carrying buddies for at least twenty four hours. You can still use the information to move against Berkowitz, but the other men on the file.... they belong to someone else."

Bennie thought about it for a long time. Walking along silently, he pondered the price, and if it was worth it. I'd already given him the flash drive, so he had to assume there was some sort of catch to make sure he paid the price. We made our way all the way to the RIST station, where we paused on the platform. He was going downtown, I was going back to Mount Zion to help my family get ready for war.

There were consequences for his actions, he knew. He knew who Mark was, even if he didn't know his real face or name. He knew if he gave his word, there'd be blood spilled for certain, and most likely men going to the morgue. But he also knew the Latin Kings were one of the groups that were beyond the law. They'd survived the crackdown after Owen Lynch and the Confederation were swept away. They'd survived numerous gang wars. They'd done it through not only regular intimidation, but also the tacit support of certain members of the Filmore Heights community. He was making a deal with the devil, but a devil that at least was trying to atone. "All right, he has until nine tomorrow morning. Just do me a favor, and try and limit the damage?"

"He'll try. To unlock the files, the password is
blizzard
, all in lower case."

Bennie got on his train, and ten minutes later I caught mine. I hadn't been lying about my normal SUV being in the shop for a tune up, but more importantly I wanted to have the time to think as I walked from the RIST back to Mount Zion. Vanessa could hold down the office at MJT for the day, and probably do a better job than I could in handling certain things. I needed to clear my head.

As I walked, I mentally prepared myself for the stress of the night. Sophie had insisted on going with Mark and Patrick, which meant that if everything went to hell, I could be the only member of our little group that lived to see the next day. I knew what I had to do if that happened, Mark had given me all the passwords and documents just the night before. Disappearing out West, probably Arizona or New Mexico where there were large areas with few people and a lot of cactus, I'd use the fake papers on Andrea to get her a passport while the fake passport I already had would do. I'd get the papers I needed, buy tickets and then cash out, disappear anywhere in the world I wanted to go. I prayed that didn’t happen.