side. They punched a hole in the water with their steel fist. The chain scurried after them, dragging against the gunnels. It took only a few seconds before Vee8 was jerked overboard. Reflexively, he held his breath as he struck the water. It was a futile act.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“G illis?” Hayden asked.
“Yeah,” a cautious voice answered.
“Hayden Duke. Your friend Lee told you about me.”
Gillis’s tone eased up a couple of clicks. “Yeah, yeah. You’ve got a nut that needs cracking. Well, I’m your man.”
Beckerman pushed his dinner aside to give this call his full attention. He’d been listening in to all Hayden’s calls for the last few days just as a precaution. He’d caught some chatter over the last couple of days, but nothing significant. A couple of calls between Hayden and his parents, and a couple to Rebecca Fallon. He detected an undercurrent between those two. He’d been a little slow arranging phone taps and he felt he’d missed a significant call between them. He didn’t let it worry him too much. He’d find out eventually. But Hayden and Rebecca weren’t as important as Hayden and Gillis right now. He took a seat in front of the bank of surveillance equipment.
“Don’t play coy,” Beckerman said to the laptop monitoring the call. “Tell me something.”
He sat alone in Lockhart’s San Francisco office. This was his command center and home for the duration of the operation. He’d been living out of the office since Chaudhary went rogue on Lockhart. He looked forward to when he could return to the secluded comfort of his Oregon home. There he could hunt and fish without the interference of the human race. He liked his quiet life, not people and their baggage. “Live clean, live happy” was his motto. He pushed his thoughts away from his home life. He couldn’t do his job with one eye on other things.
“You think you can crack the password protection?” Hayden asked.
“It’s what I do.”
Beckerman didn’t like what he just heard. Was Hayden talking about the file Fallon had sent him? How did he happen to still have a copy? Beckerman thought he’d taken care of it. Lockhart would be pissed when he reported this development.
“Can I bring it over now?” Hayden asked.
“I’m in the middle of something. Make it nine.”
“Where?”
Gillis recited an address in Davis, and Beckerman wrote it down at the same time Hayden did.
“I’ll be there,” Hayden said and hung up.
Beckerman pocketed the address and thanked his good luck. With Hayden in Fairfield and him in San Francisco, Hayden had a fifty-mile head start on him to Davis, but Gillis’s delay put things in Beckerman’s favor. It was 7:10 p.m. That gave him less than two hours to put something together. Tough, but doable if he left now.
He picked up his Dodge from the parking garage. He brought nothing with him. Everything he needed was in the trunk. Tools. Weapons. The lot. Batman had his utility belt. He had his trunk.
Lockhart paid well, but Beckerman wasn’t in it for the money. He was in it for the work. The military had trained him to be a guardian and an assassin, a saver of lives and a taker of lives. He enjoyed the skills necessary to complete his assignments, but he was at a loss when the military rotated him out with full honors. He knew some who resented the military for doing this to them. They felt it was a betrayal of a soldier’s sacrifice. He didn’t. It was just procedure. He reached retirement age and it was his time to go. He understood that. Respected that. A military machine needed fresh parts to operate at its optimum. He knew he still had a lot to offer, and if the military couldn’t use him, someone else could. Of course he could have made the move to law enforcement or private security, but it wasn’t for him. It wouldn’t give him the opportunities Lockhart gave him. He liked being part of a machine again. He lived for it.
He slipped through the city to pick up the Bay
CHAPTER EIGHT
“G illis?” Hayden asked.
“Yeah,” a cautious voice answered.
“Hayden Duke. Your friend Lee told you about me.”
Gillis’s tone eased up a couple of clicks. “Yeah, yeah. You’ve got a nut that needs cracking. Well, I’m your man.”
Beckerman pushed his dinner aside to give this call his full attention. He’d been listening in to all Hayden’s calls for the last few days just as a precaution. He’d caught some chatter over the last couple of days, but nothing significant. A couple of calls between Hayden and his parents, and a couple to Rebecca Fallon. He detected an undercurrent between those two. He’d been a little slow arranging phone taps and he felt he’d missed a significant call between them. He didn’t let it worry him too much. He’d find out eventually. But Hayden and Rebecca weren’t as important as Hayden and Gillis right now. He took a seat in front of the bank of surveillance equipment.
“Don’t play coy,” Beckerman said to the laptop monitoring the call. “Tell me something.”
He sat alone in Lockhart’s San Francisco office. This was his command center and home for the duration of the operation. He’d been living out of the office since Chaudhary went rogue on Lockhart. He looked forward to when he could return to the secluded comfort of his Oregon home. There he could hunt and fish without the interference of the human race. He liked his quiet life, not people and their baggage. “Live clean, live happy” was his motto. He pushed his thoughts away from his home life. He couldn’t do his job with one eye on other things.
“You think you can crack the password protection?” Hayden asked.
“It’s what I do.”
Beckerman didn’t like what he just heard. Was Hayden talking about the file Fallon had sent him? How did he happen to still have a copy? Beckerman thought he’d taken care of it. Lockhart would be pissed when he reported this development.
“Can I bring it over now?” Hayden asked.
“I’m in the middle of something. Make it nine.”
“Where?”
Gillis recited an address in Davis, and Beckerman wrote it down at the same time Hayden did.
“I’ll be there,” Hayden said and hung up.
Beckerman pocketed the address and thanked his good luck. With Hayden in Fairfield and him in San Francisco, Hayden had a fifty-mile head start on him to Davis, but Gillis’s delay put things in Beckerman’s favor. It was 7:10 p.m. That gave him less than two hours to put something together. Tough, but doable if he left now.
He picked up his Dodge from the parking garage. He brought nothing with him. Everything he needed was in the trunk. Tools. Weapons. The lot. Batman had his utility belt. He had his trunk.
Lockhart paid well, but Beckerman wasn’t in it for the money. He was in it for the work. The military had trained him to be a guardian and an assassin, a saver of lives and a taker of lives. He enjoyed the skills necessary to complete his assignments, but he was at a loss when the military rotated him out with full honors. He knew some who resented the military for doing this to them. They felt it was a betrayal of a soldier’s sacrifice. He didn’t. It was just procedure. He reached retirement age and it was his time to go. He understood that. Respected that. A military machine needed fresh parts to operate at its optimum. He knew he still had a lot to offer, and if the military couldn’t use him, someone else could. Of course he could have made the move to law enforcement or private security, but it wasn’t for him. It wouldn’t give him the opportunities Lockhart gave him. He liked being part of a machine again. He lived for it.
He slipped through the city to pick up the Bay
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