But that gave DeSantos one bit of vital information about his adversary: he was not a professional — and he was not law enforcement or military, either. Any of those would not have to prepare their weapon. It would be ready to fire. Just like his was.
He rolled two more times and got to his feet — but not before scooping up his Glock. The problem of not being able to see was a two-way street — and it gave DeSantos an extra second to level his handgun and fire.
The shot was exceedingly loud, echoing off the berm to his right and reverberating off the open waters of the Thames to his left. DeSantos dropped to a knee and fired again, and the hulking silhouette of the man crumpled to a ball on the sand.
DeSantos approached slowly, circling his prey, ensuring that the man was truly incapacitated and not merely luring him closer to get a high percentage shot.
But his aggressor was still, and blood was seeping into the porous surface of the beach.
He approached, stepped on the man’s wrist, and pulled away his weapon. DeSantos shoved it into his waistband and put his knee atop the man’s chest. He was still breathing.
“Who are you?”
The perp spit at him.
DeSantos wiped his cheek with a sleeve. “What’s your name?”
Silence.
“Fine. Have it your way.” DeSantos put the barrel of his Glock to the right eye socket of the man’s forehead. “Last chance. You have five seconds. Four … three … two … one.” The man tried to spit again — so DeSantos pulled the trigger.
He rocked backward off the assailant’s body and patted him down, finding nothing other than a cell phone. He turned it on and took a photo of the man’s face. It was a good likeness, other than the blown-out orbit.
He wiped off the screen and went through the same procedure of pressing the man’s fingers against the glass. He tried to catch the stray moonlight to see if it had worked, but it was too dark.
DeSantos gently placed the handset in his pocket and blew air out of his mouth. His head ached from getting clocked and his ribs were sore from getting kicked. He had a problem — what to do with the body so that it would not be discovered for a while.
The best answer was to weight it down with rocks and set it in the Thames. Like the disabled boat, it would hopefully find the bottom of the river.
He gathered up as many stones as he could find and shoved them into the perp’s pockets. He wiped off the handgun and slid it inside the man’s jeans. It probably was not enough to overcome the buoyancy.
He gathered up his phone and dusted off the sand, then called Fahad. There was no answer so he tried Vail. She answered on the first ring.
“Hey, I need you to pick me up about, I don’t know, maybe a hundred yards, maybe two hundred yards from the pier. Due east, along the shoreline. And bring something heavy.”
“Something heavy?”
“Yeah. Like some bricks. I need to weigh down a body so it sinks.”
“Jesus. I don’t want to know, do I?”
“You do. But not now. Hurry. And bring me a bath towel from the flat and a change of dry clothes from my duffel.”
“Be there ASAP.”
“Faster than ASAP. I may have fired my weapon once or twice. Or five times. Someone might’ve heard.”
“Terrific.”
“And tell Uzi to be careful. One tango might’ve gotten away.”
Vail arrived four minutes later. She drove the car as close as she could to DeSantos’s approximate twenty, but there were no roads that went to the waterline. She headed down Eastney Street, parked at the dead end, and ran the last hundred yards or so. The duffel across her shoulder flapped against her back as her feet struck the pavement.
When she got to an area that she felt might be near DeSantos, she called him on his cell and he directed her to his location. She saw the body lying on the sand and cursed under her breath.
“What’d you bring?”
“Found some bricks in the back, by the dumpster. I brought as many as I could fit in the bag. Hope it’s enough. I’ve never done this before.”
“I have.”
Vail shook her head. “Life with you is never boring, Hector.”
They prepared the body and then DeSantos handed over the phones and Glock to Vail. He dragged the body out into the Thames as far as he could reach — a bit farther than he had gone when he retrieved the Zodiac — and let go. At first the corpse remained on the surface, but with his help it took on water and eventually settled below the waterline.
When he got back he was shivering. Vail helped him undress and towel off, then slip on the fresh clothing she had brought.
“I won’t tell anyone,” she said.
“What?” he asked as he dried his feet. “That you saw me naked?” He turned to her and gestured with his right hand. “Okay, now it’s your turn.”
“For what?”
“I showed you mine. Now you show me yours. Then we’ll be sworn to secrecy.”
“Yeah. Not happening.” But I did enjoy the show.
“Seriously. You think getting undressed in front of you bothers me?” He balled up the towel and shoved it into the duffel with the other wet clothes. “I’ve got a lot more to worry about. We’ve got a lot more to worry about. I gave up modesty a long time ago. C’mon, let’s get back to the car.”
When they arrived at the flat they hoped — and expected — to find Fahad waiting for them. But he was not there. DeSantos tried his phone — and though he still did not answer, he texted back:
on way be there soon
DeSantos related that to Uzi and Vail. He felt gross and thought he smelled like river water. He desperately wanted to shower but did not want to leave trace DNA behind in the flat.
“At some point one or both of those bodies are going to surface and they’ll find this apartment,” DeSantos said. “We need to make sure there’s nothing that points to us.”
Another text:
coming up the stairs
let me in
three light knocks
He showed the display to Vail and she made her way to the door. They heard a light shuffle of footsteps in the hall, followed by the gentle rapping Fahad had mentioned.
Vail pulled open the door and he stepped in, looking slightly disheveled, but no worse for the pursuit of his man, certainly compared to what DeSantos had endured.
“Where’s your guy?” Uzi asked, still at the desk, working the keyboard.
“Got away.”
DeSantos advanced on him. “You’re shitting me. I chased one of the assholes into the goddamn Thames. You were on foot. How the hell does a guy like that get away from you? You’re a highly trained operative.”
Vail looked like she was going to jump to Fahad’s defense — but stopped. DeSantos figured she wanted to see how he handled the questioning. More importantly, she probably wanted to know if he was worthy of her support.
“It happens,” Fahad said. “I had him for a good three hundred yards, but it was dark and he went into a blind, and I lost him among the trees.”
“That was, what? An hour and a half ago? Where the hell were you all this time?”
Fahad squinted. “What’s your problem?”
“Just trying to account for your time.”
“Santa,” Uzi said, still focused on his work. “Calm down. And lower your voice.”
DeSantos glanced at his watch and turned away, waving a hand in the process. “We’ll deal with this later. The one that got away may circle back. And if he does, and we’re still here, he’ll know we’ve got their stuff—”
“And their plans,” Uzi said, studying the screen.
“You should’ve called Karen and Uzi, warned them. As soon as you lost the guy. What if he came back here and they had no idea he was on the way?”