Deadly Powers (Tapped In Book 2) (11 page)

The coach door was opened and the three kids clambered out together. I held out an open palm, indicating that Fred and Alice should exit next. Once Carmen and I were alone, I said, “It’s good they took my pistol away at the airport, holding it there for me.”

“Come on, they’re not that bad. I think the kids are adorable.”

“Uh huh. Well, as the man said, best we take advantage of the stop.” Again, I held out my hand, inviting Carmen to climb down before me.

Stepping onto Guffy’s Main Street was not what I expected at all. I expected to see a true
Old West
town, like those you see in the movies. This place definitely was not that: There was a scattering of maybe ten, or twelve small, roughly-hewn, cabins; erected low to the ground, they appeared as old as the stagecoach we just stepped out from. There was also a wide array of junk scattered about in front of the cabins—mostly the skeletal remains of old automobiles, dating from the nineteen forties and ’fifties. I never saw such an accumulation of rust in my life.

“So much for that Dodge City ambiance,” I said.

“I’m going inside to use the little girls’ room. All that jostling!” Carmen headed off toward the closest of the cabins—the one with the sign on its roof that spelled out General Store. The letters looked like rusted-out auto exhaust pipes.

Standing on Main Street and taking in the town, I noticed a number of locals had come outside their small abodes. I waved to a bearded man wearing soiled clothes, standing across the road from me, but he simply glared back. His expression read: You have five minutes to get the hell out of Dodge. It quickly became apparent—Guffy was not only incredibly remote from the rest of the world, it was also terribly impoverished.

Something wet and brown flew by my left shoulder, landing in front of me in the dirt. I turned to see an elderly man who looked identical to the bearded man across the street. He smelled of old sweat and chewing tobacco as he came to a halt next to me.

“Town’s small, but we watch out for one another here.”

I nodded, turning away, not knowing how to respond to that.

“Don’t look like much, but we have everything any bigger town has. I’m Corki, the sheriff here … elected fair and square every six years.”

I turned back, noticing Corki had a Glock secured into a leather shoulder holster, beneath the dark-stained armpit of his crumpled shirt.

“Is crime a big factor in Guffy, Sheriff?” I asked. “What do you have here, maybe fifty … a hundred … residents?”

“Seventy-five. But considering the bulk of them are men, needing to get away from the rest of the world … ’cause a lot are ex-cons—yeah, there’s a bit of mischief I need to contend with on a regular basis.”

I reassessed the townsfolk, milling around in front of us. “You have a jail?”

He laughed at that. “Of sorts. Justice system here is unique. Our mayor is a cat. Our prosecutor does double-duty as Sheriff. I’m also the undertaker and the barkeep.” He pointed toward a slightly larger log cabin structure, farther on down the road. On its roof sat a sign, reading
BAR,
and by its appearance, it was made from old beer bottles.

“What do you think of the … um … dude ranch traffic?” I asked him, gesturing toward the idling stagecoach and four horses.

“We’ll see. Could bring a bit of cash into Guffy … that certainly wouldn’t hurt. There again, not sure I’d want to open up a dude ranch this close to the kind of folks who live around here. There’s no shortage of perverts and degenerates within a stone’s throw of where we’re standing.”

“This close?”

Corki spit again and nodded. Without turning around to look, he pointed a thumb over his shoulder: “Right back there … over yonder. See it?”

I spun around and took in the distant landscape. We were in somewhat of a valley, between golden, grassy hills. Behind us, the highest ridge peaked several miles away; perched on its crest was a sprawling structure made of stone and logs. Sunlight was reflecting off its oversized, pane-glass windows.

“That it? Morning Hawk Ranch?”

“Three hundred and thirty acres of prime mountain land. I suggest you stay within the fence at night.”

I didn’t notice it at first, but there it was: A rusted-out chain-link fence encircling the portion of property I could see from this distance. I could also see visible gaps and breaks in the fence. Scanning the distant property, I suspected much of the three hundred-and-thirty acres were actually out of sight, on the far side of the ridge.

I heard the familiar sounds of fast-moving horses and the clattering of rigging and spotted another stagecoach, approaching down Main Street. More dude ranch guests in transit, I guessed.

“All aboard!” bellowed our driver, as he pulled himself up and onto the top seat of the waiting stagecoach.

I saw Carmen as she made her way toward the stagecoach. She waved me to join her. The sheriff touched my arm. “Listen, I don’t know you … but you seem like a nice enough guy. Watch yourself up there. Things may not be what they seem … just a sayin’.”

He had no idea. Or maybe he did? “I will, thanks.” I ambled off toward the stagecoach, dodging a stampede of five- to ten-year-olds in the process.

Heidi, wearing oversized white-framed designer sunglasses, plucked a pink silk blouse from a nearby rack, held it out at arm’s length, and appraised it with a squint. Turning toward Pippa, she tucked the hanger under her chin, letting the garment cover her torso. “Is this me?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t a five-hundred-dollar blouse be you?”

Heidi stuffed the hanger back onto the rack, letting the blouse fall to the floor in the process. “It’s time you called your boyfriend again.”

Pippa tugged on the oversized turtleneck she wore—a loaner sweater from Heidi. Beneath the bandage, her neck was starting to itch. She’d gotten more than a few puzzled glances for wearing such a heavy garment in the middle of summer. “I told you, he doesn’t think of me that way … not anymore. We broke up.” Even as Pippa said the words, she knew they were false. She could only imagine the pain Rob felt, seeing her garroted on that video. She also knew SIFTR was well aware now of the recent merging of the WZZ and the thing called the Order. The truth was, she was still alive, feeling relatively capable, and where she needed to be. Being rescued at this time would actually be counter-productive to her gaining important intel. She needed to stay alive long enough to be of some use. What she wanted now was to find a way to contact the agency—away from the constant scrutiny of Heidi and Taffy.

Pippa looked over her shoulder and found Taffy standing nearby, holding an armful of dresses, blouses, slacks, and shoes—at least half of them, she knew, were intended for her.

“Go ahead, Mr. Taffy, and check those items out. All I’m seeing here are last year’s rags,” Heidi instructed.

The small clerk, standing at the swank Manhattan Gucci counter, raised his nose at her comment, but quickly became enamored with handsome Taffy.

Heidi guided Pippa out the front door and onto the busy Madison Avenue sidewalk. “Call your superiors at the agency now,” she ordered, holding out her iPhone.

“Here … in public?”

“Yes. Do it now!”

That was new. Twice earlier, Pippa had been instructed to call Rob’s cell phone directly, but got only his voice mail. She dialed SIFTR’s direct line, heard it ring once, and a voice said, “Provide code.”

She spoke the ten digit alphanumeric code and waited. After thirty seconds of intermittent clicking and dead air, she heard a familiar voice.

“Pippa?”

“Baltimore? Yes, it’s me—”

Suddenly, the phone Pippa was holding was no longer pressed to her ear, as Heidi snatched it away and began speaking in a hushed tone. “Mr. Baltimore … it’s Heidi Goertz. I’m sure you remember me.”

Although Pippa could only hear one side of the conversation, she was fairly certain what Curt would be saying to Heidi.

“Mr. Baltimore, let me put this to you as simply as possible. Do you want to see your agent again … alive? Or should I finish the job that was started and just send you her head?”

“Well, your actions are contradicting that statement. Was my video message unclear?” Heidi asked him.

There was a significant pause and then Heidi fired back, “I certainly am accessible! Are you telling me a covert organization such as yours doesn’t have the basic resources to find me? Well, that hardly speaks well of SIFTR’s capabilities, does it?”

There was another pause. “As you just heard, she’s alive and well. But if you don’t care enough to get her back, I can remedy that here and now.”

“No … my demands have not changed. Bring me Mr. Chandler and yourself. The exchange must happen today … right away.”

Taffy emerged from Gucci’s entrance, carrying no fewer than eight large shopping bags. Heidi spun around, raising a waving arm into the air.

Fifty yards away, a black Range Rover accelerated, dodged a VW Beetle, and inbounded toward the nearby curb.

The driver gave a perfunctory nod as Heidi reached for the rear door handle. Taffy sprang forward. “Wait!”

Heidi rolled her eyes as she unlatched the back door. “Thanks for the chivalry, Mr. Taffy, but you’d need a free hand to …”

Pippa watched as Heidi stood frozen, looking inside the rear of the Land Rover.

The voice was hushed but unmistakable: “Get in. You first, Mrs. Goertz, then Pippa. I want pretty boy out there to hop into the front passenger seat.”

Out of view, Baltimore had managed to remain obscure in the back seat. He was holding a gun, now pointed straight at Heidi. Pippa couldn’t hold back the smile from her face.

Heidi continued to look indignant, not making a move. “You wouldn’t, not here in public.”

The words had no sooner left her lips than a gunshot rang out and the SUV’s rear window disintegrated. A startled woman, walking nearby on the sidewalk, screamed, but was uninjured.

Baltimore said in a calm voice, “The next bullet will take one of your ears off.”

“I’d do what he says, Heidi. I’ve practiced with him at the firing range. He’s a shitty shot and I’m betting he’s aiming at the middle of your face, just to be safe.” Pippa smirked at her.

Heidi huffed but did as told, disappearing into the back of the SUV. Pippa opened the front passenger door and said, “Get in.”

Taffy stood there, looking as if he were contemplating his next move. He raised both hands, clutching multiple Gucci bag handles. “And these?” he asked.

“Hold on,” she said, relieving him of the holstered pistol hidden at the back of his pants, then said, “Okay, give them to me. Make one false move and he’ll kill her. I hope you know that.” Pippa waited while Taffy placed all the bags into her outstretched arms, before sliding into the front seat. Pippa leaned down and looked at the driver. “Pop the back hatch.”

With their day’s shopping secured in the rear compartment, Pippa squeezed in next to Heidi and closed the door. She gave Baltimore an appreciative smile. In the distance the approaching sound of a siren could be heard.

Baltimore kept his weapon trained on Heidi’s ribcage as she sat beside him. He caught the driver’s eyes, staring back at him in the rearview mirror. “Drive, asshole.”

Doing as instructed, the driver accelerated into the busy Manhattan traffic. “Where to?”

“Stay on Madison for now,” Baltimore said.

Heidi was fuming. “How did you find me? My phone is totally secure … invisible. So is Taffy’s.”

“Facial recognition … there’s no shortage of security cameras in this part of the city.”

“No … our faces are well-covered with oversized sunglasses … there’s no way.” She, Pippa, and Taffy were all wearing ridiculously large sunglasses.

“You had Pippa try on some clothes.”

“Yeah … so?”

“So I guess you didn’t realize that hidden security cameras are placed out of sight in some of the dressing rooms. Pippa took off her glasses when trying on clothes.”

“You watched me getting undressed?” Pippa asked, not really liking the idea, but grateful to him just the same.

He shrugged. “The things we have to do for love of country.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Heidi said, “there’s no place you’ll be able to hide. The Order is everywhere … every police station will be putting out … what do they call them? APBs?”

“You said it yourself, Heidi; you and Fabio there were pretty unrecognizable. Nobody’s looking for you, although this car is definitely a problem after that gunshot. Make a left on East Sixty-fifth.”

The driver made the next left.

“Turn right on Second … then get on the Queensboro Bridge. From there, head on to JFK. Don’t forget, there’s a gun in my hand.”

The driver nodded, looking back through the rearview mirror. “I don’t want any trouble. I’ll do what you say.”

“You can’t bring weapons onto commercial airlines,” Heidi said.

“Yeah … well, we won’t be flying commercial. Just sit back and enjoy the ride.” Pippa sat back too, now only seeing the back of Taffy’s head.

Baltimore leaned forward, looking past Heidi. “Pippa … can you check his pockets?”

She scooted forward, bringing her hands around Taffy’s chest, and retrieved a handgun from an inside holster under his jacket. “Huh … U.S. made Beretta. Nice. Thought you’d have a German weapon, maybe a Glock.” She placed the weapon under her right butt cheek and continued searching through his pockets. “Ah … here we go! Your little garrote toy.” Pippa leaned in even farther, putting her lips next to his left ear, and whispered, “You know, I am going to kill you. Should I do it now? It would be so easy.” She held the wire’s two wooden handles out so he could see the garrote. “Do you think a thin little wire such as this can actually cut someone’s head clean off? I mean, I’m not nearly as strong as you are. I’d probably make a mess of it … sever only halfway through, and have to give up … let your big fucking head droop and flop around on your neck for a while … half on, half off.” Pippa sat back and looked over to Baltimore. “He’s clean.”

Three people entered the six-sided hexagon from three different entrances. The first, Colby Brighton, who’d waited the longest, watched as the middle-aged woman, dressed in a smart-looking gray suit, sat down at the glass table, which mimicked the hexagon shape of the room.