spare light bulbs to
twelve-foot-high video screens. There's a service lift at the
back of the complex.
'Across the road from the CCC is a small mall with a Kmart,
a bank, a cinema, a couple of eateries and a gas station. One
thing you might find useful. A buddy at the local planning
office got me the architect's plans for the complex and the
buildings nearby. Not many people would ever have seen
these. The shopping mall and garage across from the CCC
were built at the same time as it, and they're all owned by
the same company. Turns out there's a service tunnel from
the Kmart that links up with B2 of the CCC.' He ran a finger
across the paper. 'It's narrow, just big enough for a man to get
through, and it's used to access electrical system nodes for the
entire area. The main boards are just inside the CCC, here.
I got in through the tunnel to position the devices, avoiding
the security checks upstairs on the main level.'
The Dragon nodded. 'And where have you placed the
devices?'
'One here.' Dexter pointed to a cupboard close to
Reception on the Ground Floor. 'The other, larger one is
here on B1, directly under Hall A.'
'I see. And security?'
'As tight as you'd expect, but the devices are well concealed
and shielded, so no chemical leaks for the detectors to notice,
and no smells. The dogs will pick up diddly-squat.'
'What about cameras? How did you . . .'
Dexter touched his nose. 'I have a friend who's a gifted
cinematographer,' he smirked. 'Fucker should be working
with Spielberg. He ran me off a DVD of empty corridors which
I keyed into the system for the cameras covering the drop
sites. The security guys were watching a movie for the whole
30 minutes I was in the building. Never knew I was there.'
The Dragon couldn't help smiling his approval. 'Very
clever.'
'So,' Dexter said. He turned to look up at the Dragon. The
barrel of a silencer attached to a Smith & Wesson Model 500
Magnum was two inches from his face.
'Up.'
Dexter's face was suddenly very pale. 'But I –'
'Not a word, please. Into the hall.'
Dexter Tate was rooted to the spot. 'The hall?' In a daze,
he got up from the chair and began to walk towards the door.
'I don't understand,' he said, his voice fractured. 'What –'
'I use people only once. Dead men can't tell tales.'
'But, I wouldn't –'
'Stop.'
The Dragon walked past him towards the front door and
turned. Dexter stared imploringly at the man in front of
him. The Dragon felt nauseated, raised the Magnum and
shot Dexter between the eyes. His head exploded, sending
blood and grey matter to the ceiling and in great plumes
along the walls.
The Dragon stepped over Dexter's body. He paced back to
the tiny table and rolled up the schematic. Then he ripped
the DVD player from under the TV and pocketed an iPod he
saw lying on the IKEA cupboard shelf. He spotted Dexter's
jacket slung over a stool in the kitchen just off the lounge.
He yanked the wallet from the inside pocket, deliberately
ripping the lining. Finally, he threw the low table at the TV
screen. The image of the football game flicked off with a dull
thud just as the Broncos quarterback took a snap.
With the scene left looking like a regular armed break-in –
the sort of thing that happened a dozen times a week in this
part of LA – the Dragon pocketed his gun, walked calmly
back along the hall, left the front door ajar and headed back
to his car. No one saw him leave.
26
5.02 pm, Pacific Standard Time (Incident time
minus 2 hours, 15 minutes)
The Dragon cut from Glendale Freeway south onto Hollywood,
hitting the traffic full on. Cops were everywhere. A hundred
yards ahead was a checkpoint. The Dragon glanced through
his rear window. It was bumper to bumper, and there were no
slip roads off the freeway before the checkpoint. He pulled
the gun from his pocket and put it next to the Yarygin PYa
in the metal box under the seat. He twisted the key and
slipped it into the glove compartment. The other weapons
he had already deposited at
twelve-foot-high video screens. There's a service lift at the
back of the complex.
'Across the road from the CCC is a small mall with a Kmart,
a bank, a cinema, a couple of eateries and a gas station. One
thing you might find useful. A buddy at the local planning
office got me the architect's plans for the complex and the
buildings nearby. Not many people would ever have seen
these. The shopping mall and garage across from the CCC
were built at the same time as it, and they're all owned by
the same company. Turns out there's a service tunnel from
the Kmart that links up with B2 of the CCC.' He ran a finger
across the paper. 'It's narrow, just big enough for a man to get
through, and it's used to access electrical system nodes for the
entire area. The main boards are just inside the CCC, here.
I got in through the tunnel to position the devices, avoiding
the security checks upstairs on the main level.'
The Dragon nodded. 'And where have you placed the
devices?'
'One here.' Dexter pointed to a cupboard close to
Reception on the Ground Floor. 'The other, larger one is
here on B1, directly under Hall A.'
'I see. And security?'
'As tight as you'd expect, but the devices are well concealed
and shielded, so no chemical leaks for the detectors to notice,
and no smells. The dogs will pick up diddly-squat.'
'What about cameras? How did you . . .'
Dexter touched his nose. 'I have a friend who's a gifted
cinematographer,' he smirked. 'Fucker should be working
with Spielberg. He ran me off a DVD of empty corridors which
I keyed into the system for the cameras covering the drop
sites. The security guys were watching a movie for the whole
30 minutes I was in the building. Never knew I was there.'
The Dragon couldn't help smiling his approval. 'Very
clever.'
'So,' Dexter said. He turned to look up at the Dragon. The
barrel of a silencer attached to a Smith & Wesson Model 500
Magnum was two inches from his face.
'Up.'
Dexter's face was suddenly very pale. 'But I –'
'Not a word, please. Into the hall.'
Dexter Tate was rooted to the spot. 'The hall?' In a daze,
he got up from the chair and began to walk towards the door.
'I don't understand,' he said, his voice fractured. 'What –'
'I use people only once. Dead men can't tell tales.'
'But, I wouldn't –'
'Stop.'
The Dragon walked past him towards the front door and
turned. Dexter stared imploringly at the man in front of
him. The Dragon felt nauseated, raised the Magnum and
shot Dexter between the eyes. His head exploded, sending
blood and grey matter to the ceiling and in great plumes
along the walls.
The Dragon stepped over Dexter's body. He paced back to
the tiny table and rolled up the schematic. Then he ripped
the DVD player from under the TV and pocketed an iPod he
saw lying on the IKEA cupboard shelf. He spotted Dexter's
jacket slung over a stool in the kitchen just off the lounge.
He yanked the wallet from the inside pocket, deliberately
ripping the lining. Finally, he threw the low table at the TV
screen. The image of the football game flicked off with a dull
thud just as the Broncos quarterback took a snap.
With the scene left looking like a regular armed break-in –
the sort of thing that happened a dozen times a week in this
part of LA – the Dragon pocketed his gun, walked calmly
back along the hall, left the front door ajar and headed back
to his car. No one saw him leave.
26
5.02 pm, Pacific Standard Time (Incident time
minus 2 hours, 15 minutes)
The Dragon cut from Glendale Freeway south onto Hollywood,
hitting the traffic full on. Cops were everywhere. A hundred
yards ahead was a checkpoint. The Dragon glanced through
his rear window. It was bumper to bumper, and there were no
slip roads off the freeway before the checkpoint. He pulled
the gun from his pocket and put it next to the Yarygin PYa
in the metal box under the seat. He twisted the key and
slipped it into the glove compartment. The other weapons
he had already deposited at
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