Chapter 81

Chapter 81—Roger to the rescue—again 

12:21, a.m., Friday, December 30  

Jack welcomed getting in off the street. For one thing, as soon as he spotted Roger behind the wheel, he knew that this Ford Expedition was virtually a personnel carrier. Jack had heard Roger say on numerous occasions that he had too many enemies, and too many friends with targets on their backs.
 Roger always insisted on tinted windows capable of stopping an AK-47, with doors and undercarriage strong enough to withstand almost any IED. The roof and engine compartment of Roger’s vehicles were fortified as well. The tires were constructed of solid, explosion resistant material.
Jack got in, sat down, and took a deep breath.
“Kurt is dead,” Jack told Roger.
“I know,” Roger said. “He was a good man. He’s only been on my team for a few months, but he had already proved his worth. That’s why I sent him to gather you up. … Did you get a look at the shooter?”
“I didn’t,” Jack replied. “But I did scoop up some of the spent rounds.” Jack then pulled the handkerchief containing the cartridges out of his pocket, and handed them over the seat to Roger.
“Kate is looking good,” Roger said. “She’s been through the ringer, but from what I hear she’s going to be fine.”
“You’ve taken care of Reg?” Jack asked.
“Kurt did,” Roger said. “His wife will eventually get the body. We scrubbed him up, and got some new clothes. No telling whose blood he had on him. For sure he carried some of Kate’s DNA—and yours.”
“I would like his clothes,” Jack said. “They weren’t in Kurt’s car, were they?”
“I’ve got them, and I’ll see they get to you,” Roger said. “Any particular reason? They are pretty messed up.”
“I’m not sure,” Jack replied. “But if it weren’t for Reg, neither Kate nor I would be alive right now. Reg was a true friend.”
“That he was,” Roger said. “I also regarded him as a friend. There are some people in this world you can simply count on—no matter what. Reg was one of them.”
“You’re dropping me off at my new hotel?” Jack asked.
“That’s the plan,” Roger said, “unless you have someplace else you’d rather be.”
“The hotel would be perfect,” Jack said. “… Actually, I’d accept anyplace with a bed.”
Strangely, or perhaps by design, Roger drove by the gas station where earlier they had stopped so that Jack could wash up. There were at least a dozen emergency vehicles parked there, most with their red and blue lights flashing.
“That place appears to be cordoned off,” Roger said. “I hope you don’t need to wash up again.”
“Not there, for sure,” Jack said.
The remainder of the ride was uneventful. Jack sat in his seat staring out of the window next to him. However, he was not looking at anything in particular. First he thought about Kate, and that perhaps he ought to go back to the hospital and sit with her.
But then he thought better. His presence would do nothing except raise more questions. When Kate came out of the anesthetic, she would tell her side of the story to Captain Spencer. Jack needed to remain out of reach through the preliminary debriefing. She knew she must leave Reginald out of it.
Once that had taken place, he would visit her and find out what she had told her superiors. That way they could keep their stories straight. Better to have his absence questioned, than his presence result in conflicting versions of the story.
“Are they all dead?” Jack asked Roger.
“The fellows responsible for Kate’s abduction?” Roger asked.
“Right. Are there any loose ends?”
“One fewer since that big fellow went dumpster diving behind the hospital,” Roger replied. “You barely beat us to that one. But better you than us, I suppose.”
“You knew about him?” Jack asked, a little surprised.
“We did, but we didn’t have a clean shot at him until he was outside the hospital. But you took care of him first—and in a pretty efficient manner. … You might be happy to learn that we cleaned it up. Our guys emptied the dumpster, and erased the hard drive of the camera that caught you slicing him up. All they had was your back, but we took care of that anyway.”
“Thanks.”
“No big deal,” Roger said. “This is New York City after all. You know what they say here, ‘no body, no murder.’ Especially when it comes to dirt bags like that.”
For a dozen seconds neither Roger nor Jack spoke. Then Roger broke the silence. “But I don’t think I truly answered your question. We’re not sure if we got them all. We have no reason to think we haven’t, but it seems to us unlikely that they’re all dead. That was a fairly large operation—with a lot of people involved. Certainly we have not got very high up the ladder. But we just can’t be sure that some remain that Kate could identify. She is still in danger. … I think that is what you were getting at.”
For the rest of the drive to Jack’s hotel no one in the Expedition said a single word. They all knew that Jack was whipped. And so they left him alone.
Even though Jack sat silently, his mind was anything but quiet. While he did sense a degree of relief that Kate was recovering from her wound, he knew Roger was right—that there could be others who felt the need to do his daughter harm.
Also, he could not reconcile himself with the fact that his good friend was dead. Had it been almost anyone other than Reginald, Jack would have felt only the highest level of satisfaction that Kate was rescued. But the grief that befell him at the loss of this good friend was not going to be easy for Jack to shake
“Well, this is it,” Roger said, as he brought the SUV to a stop at the main entrance into the hotel. “You should be all set. You know how to reach me.”
“Thanks for all your help,” Jack said. “Kate and I are both most grateful.”
“See ya, Buddy.”
Jack got out of the Expedition, and entered the lobby of the hotel. Initially he thought about checking at the front desk for messages, then thought better. “I guess what I don’t know can’t kill me,” he muttered to himself, as he headed to the elevator.
Just then his cell vibrated. Jack looked at his phone, and read the display, “Kate?” Jack hesitated before answering.
“Hello?” he finally said, but with a question mark.
There was a long moment of dead silence on the other end. Finally a male voice answered, “Handler?”
“Who is this?” Jack asked.