Vigilantes and Lovers Read online

  "Sorry. Didn't mean to strike a nerve." But it sure looks like I hit one, big-time. What's going on, here?

  "I'm not so sure about that," she said, her eyes like slits.

  "About what?"

  "Your question. I want to know what's behind it. You're cold and calculating, Finn. Let's be honest with one another, okay?"

  "Me? Cold and calculating?"

  "Don't you dare try to play innocent. Your 'aw shucks' routine might fool some people, but I know what you are. Out with it; what are you getting at?"

  In for a penny, in for a pound, as the Brits say.

  "Did you tell him where you were meeting me?"

  16

  I saw it coming, but I could tell from the way she swung that she wasn't trying to inflict damage. She was just lashing out like a lot of angry women would. I let her slap me, figuring it might lead somewhere worth going.

  "You're out of bounds, Finn!"

  "It's a reasonable question." I rubbed my cheek. She might not have been trying to inflict real damage, but she packed a hell of a wallop. I wouldn't sit still for another blow like that.

  "Reasonable my ass. The only time you've had anything to do with Phorcys, he helped you. Where would your daughter be without him?"

  "Try to see it from my point of view, Mary. Yes, I'm grateful that he rescued Abby. I owe him for that. But he didn't do that for me. He did it because you and he — "

  This time I caught her wrist before her palm hit my face. I felt her go rigid. Then her arm went limp. I wasn't sure what she was planning, but I felt the subtle shift in her position.

  She was about to attack for real, but I took a chance and released my grip. I raised both hands, palms facing her. "Easy. No need for violence. I'm on your side."

  Glaring at me, she took a deep breath. I watched as she deliberately relaxed her core muscles. My mind flashed to that tattoo of the cobra on her leg as she struggled to control herself. She was a dangerous woman. Does she really have that kind of temper, or was that all an act? Not sure I want to find out. At least not right now.

  "You provoked me," she said, after a few seconds. "I shouldn't have let you get under my skin like that."

  Maybe that was an apology, maybe not. Probably as close as she's likely to come for now. I nodded, rubbing my cheek again, imagining her handprint on it.

  "You have no reason to be jealous of Phorcys."

  "I never thought I did. I'm sorry if I gave that impression."

  "Then I don't understand why you asked if I told him we were meeting here. You can't believe he had this tracker planted on Island Girl."

  Why wouldn't I think that was a possibility? I kept a neutral expression on my face and let the silence hang.

  She was frowning, chewing at a bit of cuticle on her right thumb. I waited. After almost a minute, she took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh.

  "What were you about to say?" she asked.

  I shook my head and raised my eyebrows. "When?"

  "When I slapped you. I'm sorry I lost it, Finn. It's just — my relationship with…" She shook her head. "That's a sensitive area for me. One day, we'll talk about it, but just not yet, please?"

  "Fair enough. When you're ready, I'll listen."

  "I know. You're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time, Finn. I don't want to quarrel with you. Now, what were you about to say?"

  I nodded, buying myself a few seconds to choose my words. "I wasn't trying to be nosy, Mary. Like you said, you know what I am, what my life's been like. Way back, a mentor of mine taught me to question everything if I wanted to stay alive. He used to say, 'If your mother says she loves you, smile at her. Kiss her on the cheek. But check it out before you turn your back to her.'"

  I paused, holding her gaze. Her lips tightened into a line for just a moment, then she forced a smile and nodded.

  "Go ahead," she said.

  "I meant it when I said I was grateful to Phorcys. I owe him. But what I was about to say is that he did that favor for you; he doesn't know me from Adam. Maybe he would have helped free Abby anyway, just because he's a decent person — I'd like to think so."

  I paused for breath, and she nodded.

  "But I have no clue whether I can trust him outside my relationship with you. That's not to say I don't trust him. I'm willing to, but not on pure faith. I know you do trust him, at least within limits. But I don't even know what those limits are. And I'm not pushing you to tell me things that make you uncomfortable. Just trying to explain why I was asking about him. Okay?"

  She nodded. "Okay. Thanks for explaining. Sorry again about losing my temper. Where were we?"

  17

  "The senator's mystery man," I said.

  "Right. Now, just so you know, I didn't ask Phorcys about him, okay?"

  I nodded, wondering why she didn't.

  "That's one of those limits you mentioned, but it has nothing to do with whether I trust him. It's a matter of respecting his privacy. There are some things that I know are off limits with him. I'm on pins and needles when I talk with him; he's scary, sometimes. But he's never turned on me."

  "What did you learn about him? The mystery man, I mean. You said you picked up some vibes."

  "Nothing the senator didn't tell us, but what I found out confirmed what the senator said. This guy's out there, picking up the pieces of the O'Hanlon mob, or rather his people are. Nobody's seen him. I got reports of other encounters like the senator described — people picked up by two rough guys and blindfolded. Taken to a meeting with the mystery man; being given directions by phone after that. And the slight accent. Maybe Eastern European, one source said.

  "There was this one man who heard about the routine; he got ready in advance. When it came his turn to be picked up for a meeting, he ordered his own muscle to follow along and see where they took him. The guys who picked him up shook the tail, but the blindfolded man didn't know that until later. He had his meeting with the mystery man, thought everything was okay. His body was found a few days later in his office, with every single bone broken."

  "Zamochit," I said.

  "What?"

  "Russians."

  "Russians? Zam… what?"

  "Zamochit. Back in the days of the Soviet Union, that was the trademark of a Red Mafia hit."

  "You think the Russian Mafia's taking over from O'Hanlon?"

  "I don't know. Could be that whoever this new guy is, he wants people to think that. Or he really is Russian Mafia. Or he's just a psychopath who thinks that's a cool way to send a signal not to mess with him."

  "That's a sick way to kill somebody."

  "No argument from me on that. Pure sadism. Any clues as to geography?"

  "Geography? You mean — "

  "Where have the meetings been? Or I guess I should ask where the pickups have been."

  "Oh. So far, most of them were in Florida, but there've been a couple in Georgia, and one in Charleston, South Carolina."

  "Any pattern you can match to what you know of O'Hanlon's old organization?"

  She thought about that for a few seconds and nodded. "There's a good match, but I don't think we've got enough data to draw conclusions yet. Atlanta, Savannah, and Charleston. The ones in Florida were all coastal. But we're talking seaports, except Atlanta, and that's a transportation hub. And a financial center. All key places for the drug business."

  "Yeah, or any other business that involves imports, I guess. But," I said, "if you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras."

  "Huh? That something else your old mentor said?"

  "No. It's another version of Occam's razor — the simplest explanation is the most likely."

  "Oh. Okay," Mary said. "You're saying this activity probably isn't a coincidence. I agree. I think whoever this man is, he's taking over from O'Hanlon."

  "Where was the man with all his bones broken?"

  "Fort Lauderdale. Why?"

  "I want to pass that along to Aaron. It's the kind of thing he can work with better
than anybody else. Zamochit. That was stupid of our mystery man."

  "It made a definite impression on the rest of O'Hanlon's people," Mary said. "Put fear of God into them, for sure. Why do you say it was stupid?"

  "It's a trademark; it's unusual. It's not something that your ordinary enforcer would just wake up one morning and think of doing. Or even your ordinary mob boss. Chances are good whoever did it has done it before. It may lead us to him."

  "Okay. That makes sense. That's about all the news I have, unless you have more questions."

  "I was wondering about the people the mystery man's been meeting with," I said.

  "What about them?"

  "From what Nora told me a few days ago, and from the things you said then, I got the impression you wiped out most of O'Hanlon's people. Who's left for this new man to meet with?"

  "Oh. That's a good question. I took out what you might call the executive tier, the people who reported to O'Hanlon. I figured they were the kind of shitheads who might try to take over, or to set out on their own to build rival operations."

  "Right. That's sound logic. So, who's left?"

  "Well, I worked my way down a few levels in the organization; the only people left are operational types, worker bees. They don't know much about how all the payoffs and money laundering stuff works. They just move product around and sell it. Or sometimes, people."

  "Whoops. You lost me. People?"

  "O'Hanlon was dealing in people. Human trafficking was big business for him. Remember, I told you about how they were wholesaling green cards."

  "Oh, right, I forgot that."

  "And they were exploiting young people — men and women. Forcing them into sex work. The older ones they used to staff sweatshops — laundries, canneries, restaurants — that kind of thing."

  "Ugly. You let the people doing that live?"

  "For now. I can't kill everybody. I'm focused on cutting off the snake's head."

  Which immediately brought to mind her tattoo of the striking cobra, but I suppressed that thought. Neither of us said anything for several seconds. Then Mary broke the silence.

  "I'm happy when I'm with you, Finn. Sorry again about earlier."

  "Don't worry. We'll have a few more rough spots, I'm sure. But it's worth it. I'm glad you're back."

  She leaned over and gave me a kiss on my cheek. It felt much better than her slap. She read my mind, I guess.

  "Finn?"

  "Yes?"

  "I'm really sorry I slapped you. I wish I could take it back."

  "Forget it. It's not the first time I've been slapped. But you do pack a good punch. Remind me not to make you really angry."

  She snuggled against me and gave me a long kiss. I forgot all about the slap as things escalated.

  18

  Mary showed me how sorry she was. I was thinking it would be okay if she slapped me more often when she finally excused herself to get a little rest while I took the first watch.

  Once she went below, I called out and asked her to dig out my satellite hotspot from the hiding place under the charts in the chart table. She passed it up through the companionway. The laptop was in the cockpit from earlier.

  "Thanks."

  "You're welcome. You going online?"

  "Yes."

  "Just making sure it all works? Or are you working on something?"

  While I got everything going, I told her about setting up the blind email drop for Aaron earlier in the day.

  "Thought I'd see if he's figured out how it works," I said.

  "Think he'll have any news on the files?"

  "Maybe, but it's probably too early for that. I want to tell him what you learned about the mystery man the senator told us about."

  "How much have you shared with him, Finn?"

  "Enough so he's got an idea of what's going on. Remember, he worked for Nora; he's been plugged in to this for a while, now."

  "Have you told him about me?"

  "Not enough that you should worry. He knows you're my lady friend, and that you found the files. But not the specifics, and not your name."

  "You sure?"

  "I'm sure what I told him. But he's bound to know more. He's probably aware that I asked them to get you that passport a few weeks ago."

  "Did you mention that to him?"

  "No. And he didn't bring it up. He wouldn't; he keeps his own counsel. You shouldn't worry about him; he would be the first to tell you that he owes me his life. That's an exaggeration, but it's what he believes."

  "From your Army days?" she asked.

  "Yes."

  "How will you explain the questions about Mystery Man?"

  "He knows Abby was kidnapped by the people who were after you, and that the files were O'Hanlon's, so I'm not starting from scratch."

  "You told me earlier that he knew about Abby from when you were deployed together. But how much?"

  "He was my best and only friend when all that happened, Mary. He knows the whole story about my divorce, and Abby. Not the part about me setting up the anonymous college fund, but all the long-ago stuff."

  "Finn?"

  "Yes?"

  "Don't get angry with me for asking this, but could he have accidentally let something about that slip to Nora?"

  "No. Idle conversation never happened in our workplace. He never met Nora either. Just like me. They don't even work in the same location; that's all part of maintaining security. I told you, the agency was compartmentalized. Aaron and I worked there for years before we accidentally discovered each other when he gave me that briefing. He and I never maintained casual contact after that. It wasn't done in the agency. They would have probably done away with him — or me — if they discovered we knew one another."

  "Why did they let him retire, then? Instead of doing away with him?"

  "I told you before, I'm sure they plan to execute both of us. Right now, they're hoping one of us will screw up and lead them to the other. Not to mention that Aaron will be as hard a target as I am. He was the intel specialist on my team, but everybody was trained to kill. Every one of us was deadly, but everybody had a secondary job."

  "So why did you end up as a one-trick pony? Or do you have other skills besides killing people?"

  "I was cross-trained in all the other member's skills; I could have replaced anybody on the team. At least back then. Some of that stuff's out of date by now."

  "What was your secondary job?"

  "I was the unit commander. That's why I got all the cross-training. Aaron was my second in command, so he got all the same training I did. My secondary job was dealing with bullshit from bureaucrats."

  "I can't picture you liking that."

  "I didn't. And I still don't."

  "You said Aaron discovered somebody above Nora greased the skids for her to get your super-secret records."

  "Right. And his own."

  "So who was it?"

  "He thought it was the senator at first."

  "You told him about the senator?"

  "No. He put that together on his own; asked me if a certain high-profile suicide with ugly secrets was involved in Abby's kidnapping."

  "And did you tell him?"

  "No. I didn't have to. He knew. That was just his way of letting me know."

  "He knew about us killing Senator Lee?"

  "No. He's sure to at least suspect I did it. He thought Lee was the first one to get those records for Nora; he knows how I would have dealt with that. Lee would have had the authority, but without Nora, he wouldn't have known what to ask for."

  "Wait. Back up for a second. He thought Lee was the first one to give her the records?"

  "Yes. Lee probably set it up for her to get my records. Somebody else set her up with access to Aaron's records. Couldn't have been Lee. It just happened yesterday, or the day before at the earliest. So Lee was dead by then."

  "Would that have to be Nora's boss? Or the next one up the line?"

  "Possibly. Or it's somebody outside the chain of command
. Somebody with serious clout. Maybe Mystery Man's got another inside person."

  "Sorry, Finn. I've kept you from checking your email drop."

  "That's okay. You need to be up to speed on all this, too."

  "All right. I'm going to sleep now. See you in four hours."

  "Yes ma'am. Sounds good."

  19

  I found a message from Aaron in the drop.

  About that private matter, there's not much information beyond what I already shared. Suspicion, but no way to confirm. It's a dead end for now, but more clues might break something loose. We're working it, but anything you pick up could help, too.

  About the encrypted files, there's something strange about them. The name field is encrypted using an AES256 algorithm. That's nearly bulletproof, as far as being able to decrypt it directly. But since they mixed that with the other unencrypted fields, there may be hope. Lots of trial and error, though. It could take a while. We need to find a few names that are pretty certain to be on the list. Then we can back into decrypting the rest.

  To come up with names to try, my contacts are using statistical techniques. They're trying to correlate those files that have the encrypted names of recipients of payments with the files containing the bank records. They hope to match the bank transfers with the payment amounts from the file with the encrypted names. Then they think they'll be able to get enough info by hacking the banks' systems to figure out who got the money, at least in a few cases. Those few may be enough to let them crack the coding scheme. If we can get enough data points that way, we should be able to back into that encrypted name field.

  Meanwhile, they're trying to figure out why only the payee names got the encryption. Doesn't make sense. Was there a change in command somewhere along the way, maybe? That might explain it, and maybe give us something else we could use. See if your friend knows. I'll keep you posted.

  The "private matter" referred to Phorcys; we agreed not to use anything that would identify him, in case Mary happened to look over my shoulder at Aaron's messages. Deleting Aaron's draft, I left him one thanking him for the update. I also told him everything we knew about Mystery Man. Adding what I knew about the Daileys, I mentioned that they kept the files and managed the money for O'Hanlon. But my bet was the Eastern European accent and zamochit would be the critical clues to Mystery Man's identity.