Keyes got up and went to her computer. I sat at her side as she sent an email message to Quasart: “The entire complex explored. No clues found as to location of Charlie or his commend center. I need sonograms of the land around the hospital. Maybe site is underground.”
I looked her in the eyes. “We’ll locate Waters’ drone control to leverage your release from ISIS. Farok has given you a reprieve of a few hours. That may be just enough.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Waters called Shirley Moss into his office. As she walked in, he stood and frowned. “I can’t locate Detective Harris,” he said calmly. “Get him on the line for me.”
After ten minutes on the phone, she still didn’t have Harris.
Waters screamed, “When I tell you to do something, I expect promptness!” Waters’ personal security, the gigantic Michael Jefferson, towered nearby, stone-faced.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Waters, but he’s not answering either of his numbers, and no one seems to know where he is.”
“Then get his buddy Scott James on the line for me. They have something going on. Harris let him out of jail when I told him to keep him locked up. Call Elizabeth Keyes. She’ll know where he is.”
James answered after eight rings.
Waters yanked the receiver out of Shirley Moss’ hand and said, in a quiet tone, “Hello, Elizabeth. I need to locate Dr. James.”
“Well, so nice to hear from you, Herb.”
The veins in Waters’ neck and face swelled, and his face became fiery red. “So, you and Keyes are shacking up together. You have her out spying on me, don’t you?”
“Herb, you had a chance to have her, but like everything else, you blew it.”
“If you fuck with me again, Scott, you’ll be sorry. I need to speak to your pal, Pete Harris.”
“He’s tied up at the moment. Do you wish to leave him a message?”
“When you see Harris, tell him to call me! Right away!” He slammed down the receiver and stood at his secretary’s desk.
Shirley looked down at her computer before gritting her teeth and standing. “I always liked Dr. James. What do you have against him?”
Waters suddenly grabbed a half-full cup of lukewarm coffee and threw it at her, striking her chest and splattering lukewarm coffee all over her and her desk. She started to cry and looked away.
He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Look at me when I talk to you!”
Coffee dripped from her face as she looked into his dark eyes.
“If you ever betray me like Harris and James have, you’ll be out of a job and I’ll see to it you never work anywhere in this country again for the rest of your life. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir.”
Waters returned to his office and kicked the door closed.
Shirley went to the bathroom, washed coffee from her face and tried to remove the coffee stains from her white blouse. She came back to her desk. Her phone rang, but she ignored it. She picked up the coffee-soaked letters she’d typed that morning and threw them in the trash. She started to leave, but turned and went back and opened Waters’ door.
Waters looked up. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Home. And I won’t be coming back. Ever!”
She slammed the door as she left.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Herb Waters was in a rage. Controlling his vast empire put an unfair strain on him, he felt. He needed rest. And sex. He turned on the Skype program, and Elayna appeared nude on the screen.
Elayna performed and then gave Waters a few moments to collect himself, then turned to the screen. “When can I expect you?”
“I have three weeks of work to do. After that, you’ll be at the top of my list.”
“Make us lots of money, sweetheart. I need some things from Cartier.”
Waters left the suite and entered the Penthouse’s private elevator. He pressed the Express Sub-Basement button, and felt the swift drop. After just a brief moment, the elevator’s doors rolled open to reveal the Sub-Basement, a long, dimly-lit tunnel that led away from the hospital. Waters walked swiftly down the narrow corridor, illuminated only briefly by piercing white bulbs. For a brief moment, no one on earth knew where Alpha Charlie was.
I had to relay all the new information to Harris. Keyes went to take a shower, and I used the opportunity to slip outside to the stairwell.
I dialed Harris’ number. The dispatcher said Harris was “on assignment” and not in his office. The detective’s mobile phone was off, too, the dispatcher said.
Oh, God. What should I do? What can I do?
“But this is extremely important!”
“Yes, we know you think your case is important, Dr. James. I’ll tell Detective Harris as soon as he reports in.”
A knot formed in my stomach as I sat there feeling helpless, wild thoughts swirling through my mind. I turned off the phone and stood for moment.
Elizabeth Keyes almost pulled the doorknob off the front door of her apartment, swinging it open suddenly and shouting, “Waters is on the move!” Her hair was wet and she was wearing wrinkled clothes that she’d just thrown on. She turned and yelled over her shoulder, “Get your shit together! And bring your Browning pistol and the ten clips!”
My head spinning, I ran to the guest room and threw my stuff and the gun into a small duffel bag.
I ran to Keyes’ bedroom. She zipped her suitcase and threw her laptop into a briefcase. I followed close behind as she ran out of the apartment, down the steps, and to her car. She reached into the trunk and grabbed a blue gym bag and put it in the back seat. We jumped in, and she gunned it.
We’d gone only a block when Keyes spotted a black Lincoln Continental. “Duck!” she shouted, as we passed the black car. The Continental pulled onto the street directly behind us. Keyes whipped the Honda onto a side street. She grabbed her cell phone and punched in a number. “Help me,” she said into the phone. “Someone’s following. Meet me at the parking garage.”
Keyes drove fast, dodging through back streets to get to the parking garage beside the Hancock Building. The Continental followed our every turn. “We’ve definitely got a tail,” I said. “I think that may be Waters’ man. I don’t think it’s Farok’s hit men.”
“Someone was following me yesterday. Probably with the government.”
“Jesus!” I said. “The government?”
“Just shut the fuck up and duck your head between your legs.” She drove to the ground floor of the parking garage and stopped, leaving the motor running. A tall, buxom, black-haired woman ran from the shadows and jumped into the driver’s side. Keyes said, “Good luck, Anna,” then reached behind and grabbed the gym bag and jumped out of the Honda. She ran behind a nearby car, crouched, then turned and yelled, “Get out, Scott!”
Before jumping out of the car, I looked at the new driver. It was the same woman who had delivered the large cardboard cylinder to Keyes the night before I’d made the calls to Texas. So this was the mysterious Anna Duke.
I ran over to the parked cars and hunched down beside Keyes.
Duke floored it, and just as she roared out the far side of the parking garage, the Continental appeared at the other end and accelerated after her.