From Manhattan With Revenge Boxed Set (10 page)

She’d
have her revenge.

They’d
pay for what they did.

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FROM MANHATTAN WITH REVENGE

CARMEN’S
R
EVENGE

CHAPTER
ONE

She was being followed.
 
She was aware of it.
 
And she
was prepared to act when they acted.

If they have a chance.

It was nighttime in Manhattan.
 
Past eleven.
 
Earlier, she tried to sleep, but since
sleep no longer came as easily as it used to, she was walking down Fifth
because outside, the city offered distractions she needed to lean on right now.

The Park was next to her.
 
The cool fall breeze carried with it the smells of the
city—exhaust from the cabs darting past her to her left, the rot of damp
foliage off to her right, but also a crispness that hadn’t been in the mix when
she was here three weeks ago.
 

Winter was coming.
 
It was right at her back, not unlike the sound of those shoes keeping
time with her as she strolled down the sidewalk.
 

Carmen Gragera listened to those shoes.
 
She first became aware of them when she
turned onto Fifth from Eighty-First Street, where she kept an apartment.
 
At some point, she knew they’d find her,
especially since she was back in the city.
 

What they didn’t know is that she also had come back for them.

She returned to Manhattan three days ago, after burying her
fellow assassin and lover, Alex Williams, in Bora Bora, where he was murdered
while they were on vacation.
 
There,
they were making plans to leave behind their professional lives as assassins so
they could be together in a tropical paradise that offered a measure of
security due to the sheer remoteness the island provided.

But with his murder and the burning down of her longtime home,
it proved a costly assumption.
 
For
reasons that still were unclear to her, the syndicate she and Alex worked for
killed Alex and tried to kill her.
 
She managed to escape, but now they were after her.
 

After all, the sound of those shoes didn’t lie.
 

She could tell by the definitive strike of the footfalls that
they belonged to a man.
 
When would
he act?
 
She didn’t know, but in her
coat pocket was her Glock, her hand was wrapped around it and she’d use it if
necessary.

Unless he shot her in the back, which was possible though it
would be stupid on his part given that they were on Fifth, which was alive with
traffic.

She could feel him behind her.
 
The footsteps were coming closer.
 
She kept her pace steady, her body
loose.
 
Fifty feet.
 
Forty.
 
Closing the gap and doing so in such a
way that was so obvious, it was amateurish.
 
Why was he giving himself away like
this?

He was probably twenty feet away from her when she approached
Seventy-Seventh Street.
 
The traffic
light was red and there were a line of cabs waiting for the light to change.
 
Grab one?
 
Plenty were empty.
 
But if the light didn’t change quickly,
he might be brazen enough to approach the cab and shoot her because otherwise,
he would have missed his chance and disappoint whomever hired him.

Best to move on.

She looked as far down the sidewalk as she could and saw others
coming toward her.
 
The area was
well-lit, just bright enough to quell a murder, unless the man following her
was determined to take her out.
 
Again, possible but again, stupid.
 
Still, who knew what his orders were?
 
Who knew if he was just young and naive
enough to believe he could pull this off?
 
If he was, she was ready for it.
 

In fact, when the light turned green and traffic roared to
life, she decided she’d had enough.
 
She stopped and faced him.

He also stopped.
 
Their eyes met.
 
He wasn’t
the young man she was expecting.
 
Instead, he looked somewhere in his late thirties.
 
Tall.
 
Brown hair.
 
Good looking.
 
Wearing a knee-length black coat to keep
out the cold and also to better conceal whatever he was carrying.

“Carmen Gragera?” he asked.

She watched his hands.
 
Said nothing.
 
A couple
brushed past them, the woman’s head on the man’s shoulder.
 
Carmen could smell the flowery perfume
the woman left in her wake.

“You and I should talk,” he said.
 
“I’m a friend of Alex Williams.”

“That’s your first mistake,” she said.
 
“Alex didn’t have any friends.”

His brow furrowed.
 
“What gives you that idea?”

“Maybe you meant to say you were colleagues?”

“That’s not what I meant to say.
 
I was his friend.
 
Since childhood.”

“Then you know Alex well.
 
Where did he grow up?”

“Indianapolis.”

Anyone could know that, but only those closest to Alex would
know what she was about to ask.
 
During their last two weeks together, when they spoke freely about their
private lives, he brought up the one topic that haunted him most.
 
It was something he said he’d never be
able to live down.
 
Not with
himself, not with his family.
 
“What
was Alex’s biggest regret?”

“There were a few things.”

“Why not take a shot at one of them?”

“Should I start with his family?”

“If you want.”

“OK, so you want the obvious one.
 
Alex regretted not being there for his
father’s death.
 
He had the
opportunity to catch a flight and spend some time with him, but instead he chose
to take another job.
 
He thought his
father had more time.
 
He was
wrong.
 
He died while Alex was
away.
 
Alex regretted that and when
he asked me if I agreed that he made a mistake, I told him that he did.
 
He knew better.
 
He should have been there.”

It was the correct answer.
 
He took a step closer and she took a step back.
 
Watch his hands.

“I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Even if you were, I’d kill you first.”

“I’m here to help you.”

“Help me with what?”

“I work for Katzev.”
 
He raised his eyebrows as if in bemusement.
 
“Strike that.
 
I used to work for Katzev.
 
Now, he wants me dead just like he wants
you dead.
 
If we talk frankly, we
might be able to help each other.
 
I
think that would be a smart idea.”

“How do I know you’re not working for him now?”

“You don’t.”

“Well, there’s a balm of reassurance.
 
Take your hands out of your pockets.”

He did.

“Who are you?”

He looked around him.
 
“We should get a cab,” he said.
 
“I’ll tell you what you want to know inside.
 
Right now, we’re too exposed.”

“Can’t handle it?”

“After what happened last night, I’ll admit I’m on edge.”

“What happened last night?”

“They came after me.
 
I’m lucky to be alive.”

“I wonder how lucky I am that you are?”

He didn’t answer.

“How did you find me?”

“Do you want the 101 version, Carmen?
 
I used my contacts.
 
You were seen at LaGuardia.
 
You were followed to your apartment on
Fifth and Eighty-First.
 
Done.”

“Bullshit.
 
I wasn’t
followed.”

“Sorry, but you were.”

“Nobody followed me.
 
I would have known.”

“Apparently, you didn’t, because you were followed, just as you
and Alex were followed to Bora Bora.”
 
He paused.
 
“Which you also
knew about.
 
Right?”

Obviously, she didn’t know.
 
Point taken.

“I received a call from Alex not long before his death.
 
It was just before you went to the
island.
 
He told me he was in love
with you, which concerned me.
 
You
have a reputation for being arrogant.
 
I told him to stay away from you.”

“I wish he had.
 
He’d be alive now.”

“We don’t know that.
 
All we know is that Alex and you were targeted, and now so am I.
 
Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then maybe we should help each other figure it out before each
of us winds up dead.”

“What’s your name?”

He didn’t answer.

She sighed.
 
“What
do you want me to call you?”

“Jake.”

“Jake?”

“You got something better?”

“I’m Carmen Gragera,” she said.
 
“But you already know that.
 
We’ll call you Jake for now.
 
When you’re comfortable telling me the
truth and that your name is probably Hamlisch, or worse, we’ll likely be on
better terms.
 
As for now, you’re
Jake.”
 

She nodded at the street.
 
“So, Jake, let’s grab that cab so you can tell me everything you think I
need to know.
 
I’m eager to hear.”

CHA
PTER TWO

In the cab, they told the driver they were new to the city and
that they just wanted to drive around and enjoy the night.
 
The driver, a middle-aged woman with
dark hair pulled back in a thick braid, was happy to oblige.

“I’ll give you the full show,” she said.

“Perfect,” Carmen said.
 
“Would you mind a bit of music?”

“What type?”

“Dance?”

“You got it.”

“Thanks.”
 

The driver turned up the volume and they drove down Fifth.
 
The thump, thump, thump of the driving
dance beat was just loud enough to conceal their voices.
 
It would be awhile before she trusted
this Jake person, but his hands had yet to dip back into his pockets and he was
correct about Alex’s chief regret.
 
Her hand was still around her gun.
 
She was ready to act if she thought for a moment that he was a
shill.
 
Still, she had to give him a
chance because if he was legit, he might have information she could use.

“How long have you worked for the syndicate?” she asked,
keeping her voice low.

“Three years.”

“How many jobs?”

“A dozen?
 
Fifteen?”

“You don’t know exactly?”

“I work for a few different organizations.”

“Who doesn’t?
 
Over
the past seven years, I’ve done twenty-two jobs for them.
 
So, I’ll ask again.
 
How many.”

He thought for a moment.
 
“After last week, fourteen.”

“Who was last week?”

“There were two.
 
Each a board member at Light Corp.”

“How’d you do it?”

“I was told by Katzev to shoot each in the head.”

As far as Carmen was concerned, before his death, Jean-Georges
Laurent was the former unofficial head of a syndicate she knew very little
about, which is how they wanted it.
 
He tried to trick her and Alex into killing each other, but it didn’t
work.
 
They found out about it,
which was bad luck for Laurent, who was tracked down and took their bullets in
his face instead.

“Have you ever met Katzev?”

“Never.
 
You?”

She shook her head.
 
While Laurent had been her chief contact at the syndicate, she often
worked directly with the person she assumed was second in
charge—Katzev.
 
With Laurent
dead, Carmen had to assume that Katzev now was leading the syndicate.
 
“We’ve only spoken via encrypted emails
and satellite cell phones, each untraceable.
 
And I doubt his name is Katzev.”

“Maybe it’s Hamlisch.”

Carmen ignored the joke.
 
She didn’t know this man and she certainly didn’t know if she could
trust him.
 
She was willing to
listen to what he had to say, but not without her gun trained on him.
 
“What happened last night?”

“Two men came after me.”

“Details?”

“I was having dinner under the Gowanus in Brooklyn.
 
I’ve gone to the same restaurant for
years.
 
It’s a hole in the wall, but
I like it there because the food is OK, it sits on a corner, and it’s obscure.
 
It blends in on a street filled with
porn shops and similar low-rent joints.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“For people like us, it is.”

“I was being serious.”

“The layout is good,” he said.
 
“You can sit at the rear of the
restaurant, facing the front glass door while keeping an eye on it.
 
I was keeping my eye on it.
 
Two men walked past the door twice during
the hour I was sitting there.
 
I
recognized one of them.
 
I did a job
with him once for Katzev.
 
I knew
what happened to you and to Alex, so I saw what was coming.
 
I ordered another coffee and waited for
night to fall.
 
When it was dark, I
approached one of the owners.
 
He
knows me as a regular.
 
I asked if
there was another way out.
 
Without
missing a beat, he took me to a side door.
 
No questions asked.
 
The door
led to a side street.
 
With the
exception of some transients, it’s kind of dead down there, which is another
reason I like it.
 
When I stepped
outside, the man I didn’t recognize was on the sidewalk having a
cigarette.
 
He was startled to see
me, but before he could drop the cigarette and reach for his gun, I had my arms
around him and crushed his chest.
 
It was quick.
 
I lowered him
to the pavement so he was leaning against a car.
 
He didn’t look dead so much as he looked
passed out.
 
The owner watched all
of it.
 
When I finished, I looked
over at him and he just sort of shrugged and said, ‘Coffee?’
 
I declined.”

“What about the other man?”

“He was the challenge.”

“How so?”

“He came after me.
 
He was younger.
 
Faster.
 
In fact, he was really fast.
 
We ran several blocks before I took a
chance and ran into oncoming traffic.
 
I was lucky and made it to the other side.
 
He was unlucky and got flattened by a
truck.
 
End of story, at least for
that night.
 
More is coming.
 
Not just for me, but for both of us.”

“You know I’ll be able to verify his death.”

“I expect you to.
 
We need to get on the same page, Carmen.
 
I need you to trust me before they reach
each of us.
 
Or I can just
leave.
 
We can tackle this
individually.
 
It’s up to you.
 
But there’s something to be said for
joining forces and finding out why this is happening.
 
Why do they want us dead?
 
Why did they kill Alex?
 
We must know something they don’t want
us to know.
 
Do you have any idea
what that could be?”

“I’ve been racking my brain since they attacked us.
 
I have nothing.”

“Do you have any way to reach Katzev?”

“Encrypted emails.
 
Satellite cell phones.”

“Same here.”

“We wait for them,” Carmen said.
 
“But that doesn’t mean I can’t find out
more about him, maybe even where he lives.
 
No one is completely safe or invisible.
 
We both know that.”
 

She checked her watch, saw that it was approaching midnight and
had an idea.
 
She leaned toward the
driver and raised her voice above the music.
 
“That was great,” she said.
 
“The city is beautiful.
 
Would you drop us at the Waldorf?”
  

“Sounds romantic.”

“I hear the have a great bar,” Carmen said.