The Runner by Lloyd Devereux Richards

Author:Lloyd Devereux Richards [Lloyd Devereux Richards]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Crime, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Police Procedural, Thrillers, Suspense, Political, General
ISBN: 9780008648329
Google: eEPtEAAAQBAJ
Publisher: HarperCollins UK
Published: 2024-05-22T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

31

9:45 a.m. (MST)

Big Horn Resort & Conference Center, Billings, Montana~

A KNOCK CAME at the door followed by the muffled words “room service.”

Ben checked through the eyehole before opening the door to a man dressed in the resort’s western-style tan uniform. The waiter rolled in a cart with his breakfast order under stainless-steel lids.

“Is there anything else I can get for you, Mr. Mendelssohn?” The waiter hesitated.

Feeling charitable, Ben handed the man a ten-dollar bill. “Thanks. You may go now.”

Ben poured himself a cup of dark coffee from the silver carafe and stood at the window. He’d slept trouble-free through the night and gotten up late. At yesterday’s meeting, Dr. Childers had lavished over the cash in the manila envelope. When Ben tapped the large leather top case and said, “It’s only the tip of the iceberg,” Childers’s eyes had grown rounder. The scientist had already made his decision, Ben confidently surmised. Money trumps treason. As the old English saying goes, “in for a penny, in for a pound.”

Better still, Bruce Machado was locked onto Martin Gabriel’s location and setting up the capture net. The thumb drive was practically in Ben’s grasp. Machado would undoubtedly come through; the Chicago bounty hunter’s personal reputation was on the line.

He ate the huevos rancheros, mopping up the delicious Mexican eggs-and-salsa dish with tortillas. Afterward, he took a leisurely shower, then wrapped himself in the sumptuous resort terry-cloth robe and flicked on the TV. A local weather report briefly caught his eye. Some air masses were gathering and could hit tomorrow or late tomorrow night. By then he’d be on the jet bound for Chicago to pick up the thumb drive. And collect proof-of-death photographs of Martin Gabriel and Steve Gershwin, too.

When the thumb drive was in his possession, Ben thought, Rousseau wouldn’t be so cocksure, sneaking around Ben’s Rapid City crew, recruiting Harvey Rudman to report details of where things stood. It was a cheap move by Rousseau. What concern was it of Rousseau’s who Ben hired to take care of his day-to-day business affairs? And Martin was his apprentice, not Rousseau’s, Ben reasoned.

After carefully reviewing the next steps, he dressed, thinking once the thumb drive was safely in hand, the cards would be decidedly in his favor. The yellow cake from the shuttered Saskatchewan uranium mine was scheduled to be shipped out of the Montreal port this week, he knew. All that remained to be done would be provided by Dr. Childers, he was certain. Then, Ben calculated, Rousseau would have to deal, or risk being cut out of the equation.

He zippered shut the buttery smooth leather Ghurka travel bag, then straightened his perfect Windsor knot in the full-length mirror affixed to the back of the bathroom door. Tightening the crimson-and-gold-striped silk tie, it was his power statement to the world. This was his moment. His freshly shaved face tingled.

He took an extra moment and smiled at his reflection. He was due.

Ben pushed open the bathroom door with the toe of his shoe, forgetting the cord to his electric Norelco shaver.

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