Good Intentions - Adrian Hell #6 (Adrian Hell Series) (32 page)

I frown. “Okay, I kinda understand that…”

“So the signal from your device will still be there, and it’ll still be sending information, but the connected system won’t see it—all it’ll receive is the information coming from the new signature I assign to the device, which will essentially mask the original signal by sitting on top of it.”

“And you can do that for both signals?” asks Kaitlyn.

Yaz nods. “I think so, yeah. There’s no way I can stop the signal altogether, but I should be able to disguise it.”

I nod. “Okay, I think that makes sense. But what information will they actually be receiving?”

He shrugs. “It could be anything. I’ll extract from a random cell phone signal or something, so they’ll just receive a bunch of basic binary commands from the cell network, that’s all.”

I laugh. “Man, that’s fucking brilliant! How long will that take?”

He’s still tapping away on the laptop. After a few moments of silence, he looks up at me. “Done.”

“Huh? Are you serious?”

He nods. “Yeah, it was pretty simple. There’s a lot of network traffic, because we’re in a public place. Didn’t take long at all.”

“So, that’s it? The tracking device is no longer visible to anyone, and it can’t be remotely detonated?”

He shakes his head. “No, sir.”

“Holy shit! Yaz, you really are a genius!”

He looks away, awkward and uncomfortable. Kaitlyn and I stand.

“What now?” she asks.

“Well, now we’re free… kinda… I’m gonna drop you at your place and leave for Dubai.”

She frowns. “Leave? What do you mean?”

“If they can’t find me anymore, then you’re in no danger. This is my last known location, so once we leave here, we disappear. You can go back to your life, safe and sound.”

“But…” She stops herself, knowing there’s no logical argument. “What are you going to do?”

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I know comes next. “I’m going to pay Horizon a visit and finish this once and for all.”

26

21:58
AST

It made sense to offer Yaz a ride home, which he gratefully accepted. Kaitlyn’s driving, and we’ve just turned onto her street now. The traffic was light on the way here, given the time. The sidewalks were busier, filled with people going about their normal lives, drinking, laughing, socializing…

Ignorance is bliss.

We pull over outside a low apartment building about halfway along on the right. I step out and look around. It’s a quiet neighborhood. You can’t hear any of the bustle from the city center. I look up and down the street, instinctively cautious. It looks clear. The moon is full and bright. The last slivers of daylight are disappearing in the dark sky. Streetlights create shadows as their beams illuminate the sidewalk at spaced intervals.

Kaitlyn and Yaz walk down the path toward the building. I follow a few steps behind. It’s only two stories, and given the size of the place, I reckon there’s maybe eight or nine apartments contained within. The ones facing the street have double doors serving as a main window, with a barrier just in front of them, as a kind of balcony for the lounge.

The main entrance is under cover, with mailboxes built into the wall to the left. Yaz reaches into his pocket and takes out a key. He opens the door and steps through, holding it open for Kaitlyn and myself. Inside is cool—the air conditioning must be on constantly. There’s a wide hallway with an elevator lobby on the left, just before a flight of stairs. As we draw level with it, Yaz gestures down the hall. “This is me.”

Kaitlyn gives him a hug. “Thank you for everything you did tonight, Yaz. I can’t tell you how grateful we both are.”

I step forward and pat his shoulder. “Yeah, you pretty much saved my life tonight, kid. I owe you one.”

He shrugs bashfully. “I’m… I’m glad I could help.” He looks at me. “So, are you, like, a spy or something?”

Kaitlyn laughs. I guess I do owe him an explanation. Plus, I can have a little fun with him.

I nod, keeping my expression solemn. “I used to be, yeah. I’m just trying to enjoy retirement, and my old boss won’t leave me alone. Listen, you need to keep this between us, okay? No one’s supposed to know I’m here.”

He shakes his head enthusiastically. “Oh my God, no way, man! I won’t say anything to anyone, I swear. Man, this is awesome!”

I smile. “You’re a good kid, Yaz. Are you going to look after Miss Moss after I’m gone?”

He nods. “Yes, sir.”

“Good man.”

I look at Kaitlyn, who rolls her eyes at me. She turns to Yaz. “Say Hi to your mom for me, okay?”

“I will.”

He disappears down the hall. I watch him go, and then turn to Kaitlyn. “Listen, I promise I’ll come back to check in on you when all this is over, okay?”

She frowns. “What? You’re going right now?”

I shrug. “Yeah. No sense in waiting. I have to finish this. I have to make them pay for what they did to Lily…”

“I know you do. I never thought I’d be accepting of what you do for a living, but I think I know
you
pretty well. Regardless of what’s right or wrong—or legal—I know you need revenge on that Pierce guy for killing Lily. But… look, you’re here now. At least let me change your bandages. Maybe get a drink and something to eat? They can’t find you here, and they’ll still be there tomorrow. You need to rest. You look like crap.”

“Gee, thanks…”

Ah, damn it. She’s right, isn’t she?

I nod. “Okay, I’d appreciate that, thanks.”

“Come on, my apartment’s upstairs.”

I follow her up, and we take a left at the top. Hers is the first door on the left—number four. She opens the door and holds it for me. I step past her and inside. There’s a small reception area with four doors around it. Two ahead of me and one either side. There’s an old-fashioned coat stand to the left of the door, and a small table standing against the strip of wall between the two doors in front of me.

She shuts the door and puts the chain on, then moves past me. She points to the first door on the left. “That’s the kitchen. Next to it is the lounge.” She turns her body slightly, so she’s facing the other side. “Then we’ve got my bedroom, and finally, the bathroom. It’s not much, but it’s home.”

I look around. “No, this place is nice. Modest, fit for purpose… I like it.”

She smiles at me and points to the lounge. “Make yourself at home. I’ll just grab the first aid kit.”

I push the door open and step inside. It’s a decent-sized room, dominated by a large, L-shape sofa in the middle of it. Mounted on the far wall is a big TV screen. Either side of it, large windows look out over a large, well-maintained communal garden. There’s a bookshelf running along the left wall. I move over to it. She has a variety of classics on here—
Pride and Prejudice, The Complete Works of William Shakespeare
… even some Sherlock Holmes. Next to them are books about psychology and therapy, including some works by Carl Jung.

I hear her come in behind me. I turn and smile. “Just admiring your collection.”

She shrugs. “I work long hours, and don’t really watch much television. Reading is how I shut my mind off from my job.”

She walks over to me holding a box containing a roll of bandages, some scissors, band aids, painkillers… everything a beaten up old man needs. We sit down on the sofa and she begins peeling my bandage away. I wince a little as she does.

“How’s it looking, Doc?”

She screws her face up as she stares at it. “Like you need stitches. Like I keep telling you…”

“I know, I know… I’ll go to a hospital after I’ve dealt with The Order, alright?”

She leans back a little and stares at me.

Shit. I was a little off with her then, wasn’t I?

“Ah, damn it. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I’m just—”

She holds her hand up. “You don’t have to apologize. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now. I know you didn’t mean to take anything out on me. I’m sorry for hassling you about it.”

I go to speak, but I can’t think of anything else to say. It’s been a really long day, and as I sit here, I’m realizing I’m more tired than I thought. I just don’t have the energy for all this anymore.

Kaitlyn patches my head up again. “We might as well take a look at your hand while we’re here.”

I hold out my cast and she unfastens the straps securing it in place. She slides it off and starts gently unwrapping the bandages across my palm. I wince as she pulls the last of it away. There’s a dark incision across my hand, neatly stitched together. Keeping my palm flat, I try to flex just my fingers and thumb.

“Ah! Shit…”

Kaitlyn shakes her head and pulls a face. “Yeah… maybe don’t try clenching your fist just yet, eh?”

I smile, but say nothing.

She re-bandages my hand and wrist, like a coach would a boxer, wrapping it around multiple times, weaving it between and around each finger until it’s thick and tight. She tapes it all down and slides the cast back in place. She fastens it and checks the straps are as tight as they can be without cutting off the flow of blood.

I move my hand around, admiring her work. “Damn… thanks. This is great.”

She smiles as she packs everything away. “Well, just don’t get carried away, okay? I’m running out of medical supplies because of you.” She stands. “I’m gonna grab a shower. I think there’s a beer in the refrigerator—help yourself, okay?”

I nod. “Thanks.”

She leaves and I sit back on the sofa and stare up at the ceiling.

So, now what?

I’m working on the assumption Horizon’s still in his fancy penthouse in Dubai, and I’m figuring after Qatar, and the fact I didn’t head for the airport, Pierce will have gone to see him. When my tracking device disappeared off their systems, they’ll start to panic, and it makes sense that they would assume I’ll be coming after them. Which means, knowing Horizon, that hotel is going to be locked up tight and surrounded by security. Heading there is stupid.

Which is exactly why I’m going to do it.

Given everything he’s told me, I doubt The Order ends with him, but if I can do enough to get them off my back, I’ll happily disappear, never to be heard of again. I’ve been thinking about it. About everything over the last few weeks. The world thinks I’m dead. This could be my opportunity to truly start over and put Adrian Hell behind me. I know it didn’t work out so well the last time I did that, but I’ve learned from my mistakes. See, last time, I tried to properly retire and be happy. For a while, it was fine, sure. But I was too visible. Too normal. Too happy. This time would be different. I don’t want to find peace. After all the shit I’ve done, whatever the reasons, I probably deserved that lethal injection for real. If I get the chance to start over again, I’ll just stay under the radar. I’ll be alone. I won’t allow myself to get close to anyone, that way, no one will ever get hurt again because of me.

I sit up straight and let out a long, tired sigh. That’s the plan. Do what I have to so I can get free of The Order, and then vanish forever. I’ll crash on Kaitlyn’s sofa tonight—this is actually pretty comfy—and head out at first light.

Right, I need a drink.

I walk out and into the kitchen. It’s small and narrow, but useful nonetheless. The fridge is on your immediate left as you walk in, and a worktop runs along the left wall and across the end, beneath another window. There’s a cooker fitted in there, and a sink and garbage dispenser at the end with a washer underneath.

I open the fridge door. I can’t see any beers, but there’s some orange juice in a plastic jug, so I find a glass and pour myself a glass. I take a sip and walk back out into the reception area.

I frown.

What’s that?

I listen carefully. It’s coming from the bathroom. I can hear the shower running, but it’s something else. It’s…

Kaitlyn.

She’s crying. She sounds hysterical, but it’s as if she’s trying to mute the heavy sobbing as she stands under the water.

I feel a pang of guilt as I think about everything she’s been through, everything she’s done for me in the last forty-eight hours. She went from being my therapist to having her office destroyed, to going on the run from a team of killers, to becoming a killer herself… She’s just a normal person, and doesn’t deserve to be exposed to any of the shit I accept as being part of my everyday life.

Should I say something?

I don’t know… I mean, I
should
—no sense in waiting until she feels she’s dealt with it and moved on, as I’ll just be making her think about something she doesn’t want to. But I can’t exactly walk in there while she’s in the shower…

I put my glass down on the small table and walk over to the door. I tap on it gently. “Kaitlyn… is everything alright?”

The sobbing stops. I hear her sniffing and taking some deep breaths. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

The water stops a moment later. I step away from the door, and after a minute, she steps out with a towel wrapped around her, covering her chest and down to just below her knees. She’s leaving wet footprints on the carpet. Her hair is wet, clinging to her shoulders. She looks completely different. I’m used to seeing her with her hair up, her glasses on, simple make-up applied—ready for her day job. I’ve not really noticed how run down she’s looked over the last two days, as we’ve both been a little preoccupied. Now she’s standing in front of me, completely natural, she looks… different. She looks amazing, if I’m honest.

Shit, I think I’ve been staring…

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude or anything, I got up for a drink and… well, I heard you crying, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

She’s hugging her chest, maybe feeling a little vulnerable, and probably paranoid about her towel dropping or something. She smiles. “I’m fine, honestly. I just… I had a moment, and everything got to me. But I feel better after a good cry.” She shrugs. “It’s a chick thing.”

I laugh. “Yeah, okay. Well, as I said, I’m here if you need to talk. Not many people can even comprehend the shit you’ve been through in the last couple days, let alone take it in their stride.”