Gray Area (22 page)

“‘Bout fucking time,” Bobby responded.  “I’m tired of beer and
Christmas carols.”

Giles smiled at that.

“Ho, ho, ho,” Giles said.  “Got a pen handy?”

THIRTY-ONE

“Where’s Sonia?” Diamond asked quickly, dispensing with the perfunctory
greeting to Lita.  He looked like hell, he knew that much, and his
appearance was reflected back in Lita’s face as shock and fear.

“Lou, my god—”

“Where is she, Lita?”

Lita began shaking her head back and forth, an amalgam of confusion and
increasing fear creasing her brow.  “The men—they came for her.”

Diamond froze for a second, then he grabbed both of Lita’s shoulders,
perhaps too roughly because he saw her wince.  “What men?”

“Men—men,” she stammered, “Men from the government.  They took
her.  Told me you approved—”

The news hit him in the pit of the stomach.  For a moment, he
thought he would faint.  Lita rushed on, sensing the imminent wrongness of
Diamond’s reaction.  “They had badges, Lou.  They said she was under
state protection.  On your orders.  And that they thought you were
right about meeting them later at the law firm.  They wanted me to tell
you that.”

Diamond blinked in confusion, then forced his mind to work.  Law
firm.  They were blackmailing him.  His daughter.  The file in
his possession.   

That, and him dead, probably thrown in as an added non-negotiable
bargaining chip.

That simple.  For the first fucking time.

He released Lita and leaned against the front door, nodding to himself.

“Okay.  Okay,” he whispered, nodding.

Lita by now had fully digested the import of Diamond’s reaction. 
“Oh, dear god,” she whispered.  “They kidnapped her, didn’t they?”

He had no time for explanations.  “Get your car, Lita.  And as
much money as you have.  Then go see a police officer named Burke. 
The Department will tell you where he is.  Only Burke, you
understand?  After you give this to him, you go away.  You
disappear.  Claro?”

“No, I don’t—”

“Doesn’t matter.  Just do as I say,” he said quickly, already out
the door.  “I’ll get Sonia.”

THIRTY-ONE

Diamond moved past the security carousel without difficulty this time
around.  One flip of his badge and the guard, someone he didn’t recognize,
just smiled and nodded.  One of them?  Diamond wondered. 
Probably not.  Christmas time, floating personnel, just some fill-in guy
who could give a shit about people going in and out as long as they presented
some kind, any kind, of I.D.

Probably wasn’t difficult for the men who had Sonia to get in, either. 
Not that they would have used the front entrance.  With their connections,
they probably had access keys to the freight elevators of the building.  A
preferable mode of entry especially with a frightened little girl in tow.

He wondered vaguely if indeed Sonia would be here.  It could have
been a lie they fed to Lita—to get him here.  Sonia may be held someplace
else, or—

He didn’t want to think of the other, glaring possibility. 
Couldn’t.  Not now. 

The elevator sped upward.  It was a lousy tactical maneuver,
approaching through the most predictable entrance.  But they knew he was
coming anyway, and he couldn’t risk Sonia’s life on some harebrained scheme of
infiltrating the offices through stealth.  He would have to play this by
their rules. 

The doors slid open, but there was no one waiting for him.

The lobby was dark, the halls glowed with a minimal amount of fluorescent
ambience.

The shot missed him by half an inch, tearing into the plaster near his
ear.  He turned automatically and fired into the adjacent hallway, the
origin of the damn-good shot.  A small scream, and Diamond knew that his
bullet had found its mark.  The shadow of the fallen gunman could be seen
crumpled and twitching twenty feet away.

So this was how it would be.  A straight-forward ambush.  Kind
of cut short the need for suspenseful negotiation.

Sonia was all he could think about.  He suddenly realized she was
not here.  Of course not.  They had never planned an exchange, just a
simple assassination.  They knew he would come in hopes of finding her
here.  Diamond knew this himself, yet he had no choice.  Well, here
he was. 

Diamond moved past the corpse of the gunman, his own .45 close and
fire-ready.  He hugged the walls, listening, and suddenly realized he was
only a few feet from his brother’s large office.

He entered the office which was illuminated only by Marshall’s desk
lamp.  The place was empty.

A hand fell on his shoulder.

He turned, gun cocked.

Marshall dropped his hand, then slumped to the floor.  Diamond fell
to his knees, but gave one quick glance to the outside corridor, still
mercifully absent any gunmen or other activity.

Marshall tried to speak.

“Quiet, Marshall,” Diamond said, opening his brother’s jacket. 
Blood gushed into his hands.  One glance at the wounds told Diamond what
he already suspected by the look on Marshall’s face.  His brother was
dying.  Diamond counted three entry gunshot wounds, stomach and chest.

“Sorry, Lou,” Marshall managed at last.  “Sorry—for everything.”

“Oh, Marshall,” was all Diamond could muster, his hand instinctively
touching his brother’s shoulder. 

“Should never have brought you in,” Marshall continued, blood seeping out
of his mouth.  “Didn’t—didn’t think you’d push so hard.  Open and
shut case.  That’s what it should have been.”  He closed his eyes,
took in a raspy breath, then almost smiled at Diamond.   “So
simple.  So … simple.”

Marshall reached out and touched Diamond’s hand.  Then the hand
dropped again.  This time forever.  Diamond tried to stifle the choke
in his throat and failed.  “Marshall,” he whispered, closing his brother’s
eyes.

His peripheral vision caught the figure coming through the door. 
His senses immediately kicked into combat readiness, grief obliterated for the
moment.  His own gun came up, though he did not fire.

In a split second, he identified the intruder.

It was Linda Baylor. 

She was dressed in black jeans and a tank top.  She moved slowly, as
if knowing that Diamond was there, watching, ready to fire on her if
necessary.  He could not see her face, simply recognized her figure, the
perfection of it, the familiarity.

“Hello, Lou,” she said into the darkness. 

The light from Marshall’s desk began to infuse itself into the
room.  In another moment, the details of Linda’s face blurred into focus
for Diamond.  He stood, gun aimed at her, tears drenching his eyes.

He moved toward her like a panther.  She did not flinch as he
grabbed her.  Suddenly, just behind her, he could see the two other gunmen
come from around the corner.  He literally threw her behind himself as he
aimed his own weapon, firing.

The lead gunman took the first shot in the head, his face blowing apart,
taking his nearby associate completely by surprise.  The second gunman was
armed with a some kind of submachine gun and he was able to discharge a few
shots before Diamond took him down with two rounds to the heart.

Quiet again.  Diamond breathed hard—fear, adrenalin, and rage
galvanizing his strained senses to maximum potential. 

He heard the unmistakable sound of a weapon being cocked behind
him.  He had momentarily forgotten about Linda Baylor.

He turned slowly.

She was pointing a .357 at him.  By her stance and the way she held
the weapon, Diamond could tell she was a pro.  Impressively, so.  He
was not surprised.  He hadn’t been surprised by much in the last few days.

Except that he was still alive.

THIRTY-TWO

Giles knew that Bobby and Silver were dead.  It wasn’t exactly the
revelation of the ages.  He could hear the voices of Diamond and Linda
Baylor down the corridor.  More fun still to come.

My god, he really wanted to talk to Diamond.  Say hello, tell him of
his admiration.  He’d like that.  Yet Giles suspected it would never,
could never, come to that.  With a guy like Diamond you ended things
quickly.  Or he would end you even quicker.

Giles steadied himself and took in a long, measured breath.

Showtime.

“Did you kill Marshall?” Diamond asked Linda quietly.

Linda shook her head back and forth.  “No.  They did. 
Like me, they had orders.”

Diamond clutched his weapon at chest level.  He expected Linda to
order him to drop it.  She didn’t. 

“And Marianne Simpson?” Diamond continued.

Linda was crying now.  “Yes.  And Jason Randall.  They
were my sanctions.”

Oh, Christ.  Sanctions. 

“What about Robert August?”

Linda sniffed, cleared her throat and fought for control.  “Robert
August was their hit.  I was responsible only for Simpson and
Randall.”  She stared at Diamond, waiting for a reply.  But Diamond’s
face was stony, his eyes inscrutable.  “How long did you know about me?”
Linda finally asked.

“I didn’t.  I thought it was Marshall.  All Marshall,” Diamond
said.

“Your friend tell you that?”

“Turner.  Yes.  He’s dead, you know,” Diamond said, unable to
conceal his rage.  “Who’s your employer?”

“I was recruited right out of law school.  There was no file on me
for awhile.  This was my training period.”

“Jesus Christ,” was all he could muster.

Linda let him have his moment of rabbit-punch-to-the-gut
astonishment.  He took a breath and shook his head.

“Do you know what Arc-Link
really
does, Linda?  Or are you
just a gun for hire?”  he asked.

“Chemical and biological weapons research and development,” she replied
without hesitation or inflection.  A practiced litany.  “Its sole
contractor is the United States Defense Department.”

Diamond took one step forward.  “Did you know that they sell the
shit to other countries?  Countries that are supposed to be our enemies?”

“I know,” Linda said quietly.  “Politics, Lou.  It’s all
politics.”

Suddenly, her gun came up, frighteningly fast.  Lou tried to match
her for speed and failed.  She yelled at him.  “Down!”

Something in Diamond understood what she was doing.  He hit the
floor and did not try to return fire.  She fired twice.  He rolled
and faced the direction of her shots.  He saw Preston Giles fall to the
floor then crawl around a corner.  Diamond turned to Linda, his face a
mask of astonishment.

“He’s one of yours.  Why?”

“They’re not mine!” Linda spat back, her face red with fear and
fury.  “They just have me on a string, that’s all!  Faceless big
brother, Lou!  Don’t you get it?”

Diamond continued to stare, his mind a whirl of options.  He was
still holding his gun.

“They trained me.  Gave me money,” Linda said quickly, as if time
itself was her personal enemy.  “I was broke after law school.  I had
a baby.  I was supposed to come in as a clerk.  But I tested so high
on their entry exams—”

“Arc-Link, you mean,” Diamond said.

“Yes.  I tested so high … they offered me … other options,” her
voice suddenly sounded deflated.

Linda seemed suddenly exhausted.  She was crying now,
unabashedly.  Her gun hand began to waiver.  “In the beginning, it
was almost … exciting.  I liked the edge.  Learning to shoot, playing
at being … some kind of secret agent.  Plus, I was paying off student
loans and making more money than a first year partner in any law firm in the
country.” 

She stared at him now, wiping her eyes clean with her free hand.  “I
went on my first job.  My first … kill.  It scared me.”

“Because you liked it,” Diamond blurted out, suddenly understanding the
composite personality and working mechanism of Linda Baylor.

“Yes,” she said simply.  “And because of that I knew I wanted
out.  But you don’t just leave Arc-Link Industries.  They made me an
offer I couldn’t refuse.”

“What was it?”

“They’d protect my little girl,” she said with a hiss.  “Forever.”

Diamond studied Linda Baylor in silence.  “A lot of gray area with
that, Lou. Don’t you agree?”

Diamond nodded.  He understood.  They had blackmailed her,
using her child to stay within the corporate circle.  Bastards, he
thought.

“Where’s Sonia?” he asked.

“With Patsy.  They’re safe,” Linda said quickly.  “I convinced
them that I would take her here, as a pawn to use against you.  They were
wrong.”

“Where is she, Linda?  God damn it –“

“She’s with a friend of mine, back at the house.  She baby sits
Patsy now and then.”

Diamond sighed inwardly.  At least his daughter was safe.  He
didn’t doubt that Linda had done her best to protect both her daughter and his
from Arc-Link.  He may doubt everything else about her, but not that.

“They can get you, Lou,” Linda kept talking.  As if she needed to
keep on talking, to explain.  “At anyone. Their resources are
unlimited.  They make the IRS look like Jehovah’s Witnesses.”

“Ark-Link is an outside agency,” Diamond said.  “There’s a file that
can indict them for a dozen violations.  I have it—”

“Don’t be so goddamned naïve, Lou,” she suddenly screamed.  “They’re
fucking God.  Indestructible.  I know.  I know!  I sold my
soul to them!”

Diamond listened to things out in the corridor.  It was silent at
this point.  He wondered if all the gunmen had been killed. 
Doubtful, he thought.  There must be more, lurking someplace, biding their
time.  Waiting to see if Linda would finish things up fast and proper.

“Why kill Simpson and Randall?” Diamond asked.  “And then her
husband?”

“Jason Randall and Robert August were counsel for Arc-Link.  They
were privy to all of its dirty laundry.  Arms sales to Iraq, chemical
weapons to Syria, submachine guns to Al-Qaeda, the works.  They decided to
blackmail Arc-Link.  To the tune of a hundred million dollars.”