Chapter 82

Chapter 82—Jack seeks rest—again 

12:59, a.m., Friday, December 30 

After several more seconds of silence, the caller replied, “Who am I? Jack, I’m your worst nightmare, you sonofabi**h. That’s who I am.” With that ominous declaration, the call went dead.
Jack had reached the elevator, but had not yet pushed the button. He just stood there, dumbfounded. He thought for a moment, then dialed Kate’s phone. The call went immediately to voicemail.
“Enough of that,” Jack muttered, as he took the battery out of the phone. “This puts a whole new wrinkle in things. … And I’m altogether too tired.”
“Going up, Mister?” A young man asked as he held the elevator door open.
“Up,” Jack replied, stepping on with the young man. “Yes, I want to go up.”
“What floor? I’ll hit it for you?”
“Ah, good question,” Jack said. “I’ll have to check. Just go to your floor, I’ll check my key.”
“It’s cool, I’ll hold it for you,” the young man said. “Just arriving?”
“Yeah,” Jack said. … Ah, let me see. … 1152. Eleventh floor.  …Thanks.”
“No problem,” the young man said, taking his finger off the “Door Open” button, and hitting the one for the eleventh floor.
“Have you stayed here before?” The young man asked, just trying to make conversation.
“No,” Jack replied, beginning to grow annoyed with the questions.
“Restaurant sucks,” the young man informed him, “but the coffee shop is okay. And it’s open all night.”
“Good to know,” Jack replied, not making eye contact with the young man.
“Here it is,” the young man said. “This is your floor.”
“So it is,” Jack responded as he passed through the elevator door as it opened. “Have a good evening … night … day, whatever it is.”
“You as well,” the young man said, grabbing the elevator door as it closed. “Hey, care to join me for a late night cup of coffee later?”
Jack turned around, and for the first time looked at the fellow. “Thanks, but I’m pretty tired. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah,” the young man said. “That would be great. I’m here by myself, and I don’t know anyone. So, if you change your mind, I’m in 1440. My name is Brian.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Brian,” Jack replied, “Good night now.”
“Good night,” the young man replied, releasing the door.
“That was an overly friendly young fellow,” Jack thought, as he started checking for his room number.
“Eleven fifty. There we go,” Jack said aloud, as he reached his room.
He presented his card at the heavy-duty brass plated steel lock. Happily the green LED illuminated, and he could hear the lock disengage.
Jack opened the door slowly, and held it wide as he reached in to switch on the light. “Not bad. At least it looks clean. Smells okay. I should be able to get a good night’s rest here.”
Jack quickly located his two suitcases, tossed them on one of the two double beds, and began searching for his special lock. He was surprised to see that everything was neatly packed. It was obvious to him that someone had probably inspected all the contents. He was certain that when Roger’s man originally “packed” them up at the Penn Station hotel, that he most certainly would have just jammed everything in the suitcases as quickly as he could.
But everything was now neatly packed. That did not trouble him, because he really did not have anything with him that could possibly compromise him or his job. He always assumed that someone would gain access to his personal belongings. So he made it a practice to commit to memory critical matters, such as names and places. Phone numbers and addresses were encoded and electronically stored so that he could access them via his cell when needed.
“Doesn’t look like anything is missing,” he determined, as he removed his electronic lock and secured the door. Not intending to leave for the evening, he plugged it in. That way the battery would charge as well.
While the stranger that called him on Kate’s cell phone troubled him, he was most interested right now in getting a little rest.
However, the more he thought about it, the more concerned he grew. “So he’s my worst nightmare, is he? I wonder what he meant by that.”
Even though Jack was overtired, he could not forget what the caller had said. While the threat was not leveled against Kate, Jack realized that the best way for a person to get at him would be through his daughter. So Jack dialed Roger.
“Hey. I just got an interesting phone call. It initiated from Kate’s cell. What do you make of that?”
“What did he want—your caller?” Roger asked.
“At first he seemed a little surprised when I answered. But he called me by name. Not a friendly call. Who could have ended up with Kate’s cell phone? Any ideas on that?”
“Well, we never did retrieve it,” Roger said. “You know, at that house. We thought that it might have burned up in the fire. But I guess that was not the case. Must be there is one more, at least one, that we have not yet accounted for.”
“It did not sound like the fellow I had talked to earlier,” Jack said. “I would have recognized that voice.”
“I had hoped that we were done with these front line guys, after you saw Smith off,” Roger said. There was a short period of silence, as both men thought. “You know, this fellow might not be one of the fellows who held Kate. You know what I mean? His involvement might be on a different level.”
“I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” Jack said.
“Look,” Roger said. “We suspected that there were a lot of players, and that not all of them were directly connected. … Who would have had access to that phone?”
“Well, we know that it was last located at the house where Kate was held,” Jack said. “But she certainly never had control over it once the whole thing got started.”
“Right,” Roger said. “Now you said that the caller sounded a little surprised when you answered the call. Right?”
“Right,” Jack said. “That is curious. If he were one of the group I was dealing with, he would not have been surprised to hear my voice.”
“Exactly,” Roger said.
“One of the cops,” Jack said. “That’s what you are thinking. Right?”
“Possibility,” Roger said.
“Who else could it be?” Jack asked.
“At this point,” Roger said, “it becomes less important just who is still out there than it is what his immediate intentions are.”
“There’s nothing to be gained now by killing me,” Jack said. “Kate’s the target, isn’t she?”
“I’m afraid so,” Roger said.
“And motive?” Jack asked, after pondering Roger’s words. “What would be the reason for going after Kate at this point?”
“The most obvious motive would be,” Roger replied, “because someone thinks that Kate has additional information that they’re afraid of.”
“You know they never intended to let her live,” Jack said. “Once they had used her up, they had to kill her. I think that they planned to terminate her right after my last call.”
“I agree,” Roger replied.
“You’re thinking this could happen soon,” Jack said. “How soon?”
“I have no doubt that your daughter was Smith’s target,” Roger said. “It’s unlikely that two contractors would have been sent at the same time. When you eliminated Smith, you probably bought yourself a day or two. What do you think?”
“Normally true,” Jack said. “But if we’re right, if there are some cops involved in this, on any level, then we might be looking at a different paradigm. I think they’ve got two men on her right now. And a hospital full of doctors and nurses. All potential witnesses. I think that by tomorrow she will be a bit more isolated. Think tomorrow.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Roger said. “You get some rest. I’ll poke around down there tonight. Spencer and I have a history—he’s okay. He’ll be in and out. He will likely head up the debriefing. I’ll stay down there until I see you.”
“How well do you know Kate?” Jack asked.
“I don’t,” Roger replied. “But I’ll tell her that you sent me. Do you think she’ll buy that?”
“Hopefully not,” Jack said. “But if you tell her that her dad said Nanny Val sent you, she will believe that.”
“Nanny Val?”
“Right,” Jack replied. “She will know immediately that I sent you.”
“Keep your cell close” Roger said. “I might need to have her talk to you—to validate my credentials.”
“I’ll be here,” Jack said. “Not going anywhere.”
“If anything comes up, I’ll let you know,” Roger said. “Otherwise, I’ll remain as close to Kate as possible until I see you tomorrow.”
“Sounds great, my friend,” Jack said. “See you then.”
“Hasta la vista,” Roger replied, as he disconnected.
Jack knew that he needed to get some rest. He was as confident as he could be that Roger would protect his daughter. He walked into the bathroom to brush his teeth. As he stood there in front of the mirror, he could not help but observe the deep wrinkles, and darkened eyes. “Damn, Jack, you’re getting old,” he said out loud. “Too old for this nonsense. This killing business is a younger man’s game.”
After he brushed his teeth, he splashed water on his face and blotted it off. Looking at himself in the mirror again, he said: “I think I’m going to find my bed now Mr. Handler. See you in the morning.”
Jack then walked over to his bed, and turned it down. But before he climbed in, there was a muted knock on his door. “Jack,” the man outside said. “You here? I need to talk to you. It’s important.”
“Oh, great!” Jack muttered, as he headed over to the door. “What could he want?”
Even though Jack knew that the man at the door was his new-found young friend, he still did not simply open the door for him.
“Yeah,” Jack said. “What can I do for you?”
“I have some information about your daughter,” the young man said. “Kate. That’s her name, right?”
“Just a minute,” Jack said. “I have to find my glasses.”
This was totally unexpected. Not only did it catch Jack by surprise, but he was highly apprehensive about this young man, now.
So, instead of opening the door, Jack found the Glock that he had removed from Kurt’s body. As quietly as he could, he disengaged the safety. He slipped his shoes off to ensure silence.
“Thank God this is a double room,” he reasoned.
He knew that standard procedure dictated that whenever registering a room with a door connecting it to the adjoining room, operatives would always take both, then make sure both were accessible from the occupied side. That allowed for a quick escape in an emergency. Plus it prevented someone renting the adjoining room, then using it for an attack.
Carefully Jack unlocked and opened the door on his side. And, just as he anticipated, the door on the other side was propped open.
Jack slid a waste basked between the two doors to hold them open, and to prevent the noise that would be generated should the latches engage.
He then made his way over to the door in the other room that opened into the corridor. He disengaged the secondary latch. Grabbing a towel from the bathroom, he put it over the primary lock, and slowly unlocked the door.
He assumed that the young man at the door, and who ever might be with him, would hear the door being opened. But that could not be avoided. At least, he reasoned that he would be standing four to six feet away from his visitor.
Pulling the door open quickly, Jack stuck his head out to see who was there. Just as he had suspected, the young man was not alone. Jack had positioned the gun slightly behind his right buttocks, which was partly behind the door. He held the door open with his right foot.
Fortunately, his visitors did not have time to re-position.
Jack did not recognize the man who was standing behind the young man. But he knew what this was all about just the same. The stranger was a contractor.
“This young fool is dead,” Jack was thinking. “Nothing can change that at this point.”
Ideally, Jack would have liked to see both of the stranger’s hands, but he could see only the right. Jack assumed that the left hand held a gun.
As usual, Jack was correct.
The 10mm Glock was not Jack’s gun of choice—at least not for this application. But it was rigged with a suppressorTo Jack, a semi auto with a silencer did not make a lot of sense. Sure, the silencer cut the noise down substantially. Jack liked that. But it also spit out the brass jackets with every shot. Sounding like tinkling bells, the spent rounds would bounce off walls and ceiling, leaving all the evidence necessary to trace the gun that birthed them.
Jack was not surprised to see the older man use the young man as a shield. In fact, he expected it. Only seconds after Jack stepped into the corridor, he saw the gunman poke his weapon under the young man’s left arm.
“Thirty-eight revolver with a silencer,” Jack observed.
As soon as Jack was certain his attacker had committed himself to that mode of attack, he took a rapid step to his left, which provided him with a clear shot to the man’s right side.
Jack rapidly lit off six rounds. As he fired, he tried to miss the human shield, but knew that there was going to be collateral damage. Jack wanted to get a couple rounds into his attacker’s arm—the one holding the gun. Without immobilizing the bone and muscle in the shooting arm, he knew that he could be killed.
The only other would have been to get off a perfect head shot. But that would have been very risky, because the target was moving.
His first two rounds did graze his attacker’s right arm, passing through to the right side of his upper torso. But just as Jack suspected, the man had on body armor. While the impact of the bullets did get the man’s attention, it did not stop him.
The gunman pushed his gun forward, under his hostage’s arm, and attempted to point it at Jack. Taking an additional step and a half step to his left to avoid the muzzle, Jack fired off four more rounds, all in the direction of his attacker’s gun hand.
Three of the rounds tore through the soft tissue of the young man’s left side, while one round struck a rib and bounced off. Two, however, found and disabled the attacker’s arm after passing through the young man, causing the attacker to lose his motor functions in his gun hand. At that point, the battle was over.
The young man slumped forward in shock, and fell face down on the floor. When he did, he peeled the attacker’s gun out of his hand, and pulled it to the floor with him.
Jack smiled at his attacker for a split second, then popped him once in the head, and a second time in the neck. The man was dead before he hit the floor.
“Damn,” Jack muttered, “will I ever get a night’s sleep?”
Without hesitation, Jack grabbed the young man by the collar and dragged him into the still open door of the adjoining room.
As soon as he was certain the young man’s feet were going to clear the open door, he returned and grabbed his attacker, and dragged him into the room as well.
Jack was pleased that no one had responded to the ruckus, so he took a few moments and picked up all the spent cartridges.
He removed the empty ice bucket from its tray, filled it with water, then grabbed two large bath towels.
Opening the door a bit, he checked to see if there was any activity in the hall. Finding no one out there, he walked over to the two relatively small bloodstains, and poured the water on them. He then began blotting up the blood and water. As he did this, Jack looked around to see if there were any cameras, and was relieved to find none.
The water had dispersed the blood enough so that by the time he was finished with the two towels, all that appeared on the carpet were a couple of what appeared to be innocuous water stains. Jack was sure that once the water completely dried up, a significant bloodstain would emerge. But for now, the water stains would not attract attention.
“Time to pack it up,” Jack reasoned. It would be impossible for him to dispose of two bodies by himself. He would need some help cleaning it up.
“Roger,” Jack said, after he had dialed his friend. “Hey, Buddy, can you get some help cleaning up my room?”
“You’ve been naughty, again?” Roger asked.
“I suppose you could say that,” Jack said.
“I’ll take care of it,” Roger said. “You’d better move on.”
“Right, I’m on my way.”
Jack knew that the attacker was already dead. But, aware of the nature of gut wounds, he suspected the same could not be said for the young man. So, without further hesitation, Jack lowered the muzzle of his Glock to a point sure to sever the brain stem, and fired.
The bullet passed through the young man’s lower skull, struck the concrete floor beneath the carpet, and ricocheted up into the side of the man’s face, lodging in his brain. The unconscious young man was now dead.
Jack searched until he found that last brass casing, and put it in his pocket with the rest.
He knew that Roger’s people would totally sanitize the room, so he did not concern himself with fingerprints.
“Good thing that I had not totally unpacked yet,” Jack thought, as he tossed his toothbrush, razor, and other items into back his suitcase. He took one slow look around, to be sure he had all of his belongings, then left the room and headed toward the bank of elevators.
“Jack, I need you to come with me,” a man said from behind him as he got off the elevator on the ground floor. “Roger sent me.”