The Spy Game (A Tanner Novel Book 21) Page 5

  “I don’t know the details; however, it involves a man named Bishop.”

  “Owen Bishop?”

  “You know the name?”

  “It’s come up recently in an investigation an associate of mine is working on. There have been rumors Bishop was behind the deaths of a number of American operatives. I wonder if the man somehow breached your government’s database of field agents. If so, Owen Bishop would be a high-priority target.”

  “And now Tanner is headed right toward him.”

  “Then I would guess that Owen Bishop’s days are numbered.”

  “It’s just a matter of time,” Sara said.

  9

  A Chance Encounter

  The rooming house where Vinchanzo was staying occupied an old building that had been renovated sometime during the previous twenty years.

  Tanner’s Italian was excellent. He’d had cause to speak the language for weeks on end the year before while he and Sara had been in Italy tracking down Maurice Scallato. The owners of the house were an elderly couple who smiled often.

  Judging by the photos gracing the walls of the sitting room, they had a number of children and many grandchildren. Tanner had explained to them that he needed a room for a short time while he searched for an apartment.

  He’d run into Vinchanzo as he was being shown to his room. Tanner had sent the man a curt nod while being introduced, then watched with pleasure as Vinchanzo appeared slighted by his disinterest. Benedetti had instructed Tanner to act friendly toward the man as part of her plan to slowly gain Vinchanzo’s trust. Tanner had other ideas and was working his own plan.

  Part of his strategy involved his wardrobe. Tanner was wearing a green leather jacket and black jeans along with a pair of distinctive green and yellow sneakers. Topping it off was a red cap with a long bill. He had acquired the clothing in the early morning hours by breaking into a boutique. He had taken from the store two of each item and had left behind enough money to cover the theft. Tanner had grabbed one other item from the store, a ski mask. The mask would cover his face while allowing his eyes to show. Normally, Tanner would look for ways to downplay his intense eyes, but he needed to highlight them for his plan to work.

  Vinchanzo was supposed to be an out of work bricklayer. In reality, he was a part of Bishop’s organization. Benedetti said they suspected that Vinchanzo and the man they had killed to create a vacancy in the rooming house were involved in armed robbery or drugs. Funding a terrorist organization took cash, and lots of it.

  Later in the day, Tanner ran into Vinchanzo two more times and all but ignored him. When Vinchanzo spoke to him during the evening meal that came with the room, Tanner answered curtly, ate quickly, then headed outside to walk to a bar that was a few blocks away.

  The bar was a neighborhood pub that served food. It was well-lit, clean, and polished wood seemed to shine from every surface.

  “Birra alla spina,” Tanner said to the bartender as he ordered a draft beer. As he drank, Tanner thought about Sara. He understood the woman better than anyone and knew she was furious at Lyle Hanover for using her to get to him.

  Tanner had given his word he wouldn’t harm Hanover and his people, but they had neglected to get the same promise from Sara. Tanner knew only too well that it was not wise to underestimate his fiancée. His reward for doing so had once been a bullet to the chest.

  My Fiancée? Tanner thought, and he shook his head ever so slightly. He and Sara had been enemies and were now deeply in love and planning to marry. It still amazed him.

  They would remain out of contact while he was in Europe unless an emergency arose, and they needed to get in touch. He missed her already and that too amazed him. He rarely needed anyone and had once gone through women with little emotional involvement. That was no longer the case, and Tanner felt an ache whenever Sara left his side. It was the main reason he’d asked her to marry him. He could not imagine his life without her.

  Vinchanzo entered the bar while Tanner was working on his second beer, and he was not alone. Vinchanzo’s companion was a man in his twenties with broad shoulders and a narrow face. Tanner didn’t think Vinchanzo’s appearance in the pub was a coincidence.

  Bishop had to be expecting the CIA would attempt to infiltrate his organization. The untimely death of Vinchanzo’s associate would allow an opportunity for such an operative to enter Vinchanzo’s orbit. His superior must have told Vinchanzo to check out any strangers who showed up on the scene. If Tanner appeared eager to become friendly with Vinchanzo, it would definitely place the man on alert.

  That being the case, Benedetti’s idea to go slow was a good one. And yet, Tanner wasn’t willing to be separated from Sara any longer than necessary. He was using a third option, and that was to ignore or avoid Vinchanzo whenever possible.

  Vinchanzo approached Tanner’s position at the bar while smiling.

  “Signore Ryan, meet my friend Enzo.”

  Tanner ignored the hand Enzo held out to him and made a grunt of acknowledgement. He drained his beer, tossed a tip onto the bar, then turned to leave.

  “See you around,” Tanner said.

  After leaving the bar, Tanner wandered on foot until he was certain he wasn’t being followed. After ducking into the alcove of a closed shop he took out a phone and called Benedetti.

  “Report,” she said.

  “So far, so good. I’ve seen Vinchanzo a few times and also met a friend of his named Enzo.”

  “You’re not moving too fast, are you?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Good. And stay away from that planned protest rally tomorrow. If Vinchanzo spotted you there he might think it too much of a coincidence.”

  “I won’t show my face there.”

  “Be sure that you don’t, and check in with me again tomorrow, but not with the same phone.”

  “I know I’m not a spy. Despite that, I’ve lived my life in a dangerous profession for many years. You don’t need to school me on how to behave while undercover.”

  “I don’t care what training you’ve received, to me, you’re still an amateur, Tanner.”

  “Goodbye, Benedetti.”

  “I didn’t say we were through.”

  “You’ve something to tell me?”

  “No, but I decide when our calls end, not you.”

  Tanner hit the end button on his phone and cut the connection. After removing the SIM card from the phone, he tossed it down a sewer as he walked by, then placed the phone in a trash receptacle. After flagging down a taxi, Tanner told the driver to take him to the square where the rally would take place the next day. He had planning to do.

  NEW YORK CITY

  Sara greeted Jacques Durand with a bright smile and a kiss on the cheek as she met him outside an airport terminal. Durand was in his fifties, had brown wavy hair, and a pair of sleepy eyes. The eyes were deceptive, as Durand was as sharp as they came. Durand was a successful writer of true crime tales while also maintaining a career as the head of a European law enforcement agency.

  “You look great, Jacques.”

  “I took up swimming again at the advice of a lady friend. It’s taken nine pounds off me.”

  “Is it serious between you two?”

  “No, and I don’t expect it will last. She thinks I work too much.”

  “Too bad, however our building has an indoor pool, so you’re in luck on that front.”

  Durand smiled at her. “It’s good to see you again, Sara.”

  “I’ve missed you too,” Sara said, then she turned as she heard her name being called.

  A cab had just discharged a passenger. She was a woman in her early-fifties with a young face and dark hair. After calling to Sara she walked toward her while smiling and lugging a rolling suitcase behind her.

  “That woman must be a relation of yours,” Durand said. “Her resemblance to you is great.”

  Sara had been shocked when she turned and saw who was calling her, in a soft voice she said, “That woman is my mothe
r.”

  When Lily reached Sara, she opened her arms to embrace her, she then lowered them after Sara took a step backwards.

  “Oh, baby, it’s so good to see you again, Sara.”

  “What are you doing here, Lily?”

  “Unfortunately, I have a flight to catch for a business meeting, but I’ll cancel it and we can talk.”

  “Go make your flight; I have nothing to say to you.”

  The smile on Lily’s face disappeared as her eyes grew moist.

  Durand put out his hand and introduced himself.

  “My name is Jacques Durand, Mrs. Blake. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Her last name isn’t Blake anymore,” Sara said. “She gave up that name the same time she abandoned our family.”

  “I’m Lily Taylor, Mr. Durand, and it’s nice to meet you. I’m a huge fan of your books.”

  “You’ve read my work?”

  “Yes, all of it, and that last book you wrote about that hit man Scallato was riveting, even if you did take poetic license.”

  “I assure you, every word of that book was true.”

  Lily smiled. “Even the parts about the rival hit man?”

  Durand’s gaze flicked over to Sara before he answered.

  “Such a man exists; however, I did change his name for the book.”

  “That’s fascinating.”

  “What sort of business are you in, Lily?”

  “I’m an attorney, Mr. Durand.”

  “Please, call me Jacques.”

  “I will,” Lily said distractedly. She had spotted the ring on Sara’s finger.

  “Baby, are you engaged?”

  “Yes.”

  Lily looked back and forth between Durand and her daughter. Durand saw the question in her eyes and held up a hand.

  “Sara and I are friends. Her fiancé is away… on business.”

  “I’d love to meet him someday, Sara.”

  Sara began walking away. “Goodbye, Lily. Let’s go, Jacques.”

  “It was nice to meet you, Lily.”

  “Same here,” Lily said, as she reached into her purse. When her hand came out it was holding a business card. She pressed it into Durand’s palm while mouthing the words, “Please, give me a call.”

  Durand pocketed the card while nodding, and hurried to catch up to Sara.

  When they were in her car together, Sara sent Durand an apologetic smile.

  “I’m sorry you had to be involved in my family drama.”

  “I see you’re not close to your mother.”

  “Lily stopped being my mother when she abandoned me to run off with my father’s law partner.”

  “I got the impression she has regrets over that. The woman was wounded by your brusque treatment of her.”

  Sara let out a sigh. “Enough about Lily. I hope you’re hungry, because I plan to take you to dinner.”

  “I’m starved, and I have information on Lyle Hanover.”

  “We’ll talk over the meal, but first, tell me about this woman you’re seeing.”

  Durand began telling Sara about his current love interest, however, his mind was on Lily Taylor.

  10

  So Much For The Plan

  THE PIAZZA VENEZIA IN ROME, ITALY 12:38 p.m.

  Tanner entered the huge sun-drenched square where the protest was planned to take place near Italy’s Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Police were everywhere and on the alert for confrontations between those for and against the new wave of austerity measures being proposed by the European Union.

  The surrounding architecture was beautiful and four major roads intersected at what was considered the central hub of The Eternal City.

  Vinchanzo was present at the rally along with Enzo. Although the crowd numbered in the thousands, it wasn’t difficult for Tanner to spot them. Tanner had followed the two men there and saw them speak to several of the protestors holding up signs.

  Protestors wearing masks or bandanas to cover their faces were sprinkled throughout the crowd, as many sought to protect their anonymity. Tanner had donned the ski mask before entering the square, and although he was eyed by the cops he passed, they didn’t harass him.

  After making certain Vinchanzo spotted him in the crowd, Tanner moved away after making eye contact with the man.

  As he thought he might, Vinchanzo began following him at a distance. Along with the ski mask, Tanner was wearing the green leather jacket, yellow and green sneakers and the bright red cap. The outfit had been worn so that he’d be memorable to Vinchanzo. Now that the man was following him, it had proven to be effective.

  After coming to the end of the crowd where the traffic was flowing, a look in a window showed him Vinchanzo’s reflected image thirty yards behind him.

  While approaching two cops who were sitting in a patrol car while eating their lunch and talking, Tanner pulled out the concealed gun he had, took aim, and fired at the cops.

  In New York City it was morning, and Manhattan was alive with rush hour traffic.

  Sara had been awake since dawn and thinking about the information Durand had given her regarding Hanover. She was sitting out on the balcony and having coffee.

  Apparently, Hanover had been one hell of a spy toward the end of the cold war. He had been rewarded for it by climbing to a high position inside the CIA. Sara realized that to even consider going up against a man like Lyle Hanover was to court disaster. While the man might not kill her, he did have the ability to reach out and harm not only herself but her loved ones.

  That was exactly why she had decided Hanover had to be destroyed, if not killed outright. She knew part of Tanner’s deal to win her freedom included a vow that he wouldn’t harm Hanover. If not for that pledge, Tanner would have killed the man someday.

  Tanner had also been right when he warned Sara not to go after Hanover directly, and that meant she had to involve others. There was no shortage of people out in the world who held a grudge against Hanover, although many of his enemies from his spy days had died.

  Picking up the notes Durand had given her, Sara returned again to the name Alyona Petrov. The woman was a Russian immigrant who was living in Alaska and had become a citizen of the United States. During the years 1976 to 1979 she had been married to Lyle Hanover. Unfortunately for Alyona Petrov, she believed Hanover was a Russian-born office worker named Ivan Travkin.

  Hanover’s Russian was flawless, and he had fooled everyone he came in contact with for years. Marrying Alyona was part of the cover identity he created as he worked patiently at a boring office job inside a new glass tower in Moscow. Unknown to most people, there was a military research facility in the building which had been disguised as an insurance office.

  No scientific or military tests had been carried out there, instead, they were charged with collecting the data from every research project, so it could be analyzed and studied. Hanover had spent nearly a year cultivating a worker inside the office with the promise that he would see the man and his family safely to the United States.

  It was a lie of course, however, it was a lie that worked, and the office worker tried leaving the building one night with copies of classified files beneath his shirt.

  There was no telling what gave the man away, but he was chased as he left the building and fired upon by the guards. His wounds were fatal, and he died at the scene. Instead of giving up, Hanover talked his superiors into letting him maintain his cover. He vowed he would gather the military research files or die trying.

  It took another two years before he made good on his vow and breached the office’s security with the aid of a power outage that disabled part of the electronic security system. Twenty-four hours after completing his mission Hanover crossed the border and became a legend.

  He left behind his Russian wife Alyona without caring about what consequences would befall her. Hanover also abandoned his two-year-old daughter, Valencia. He told his superiors the child wasn’t his, but anyone looking at a photo of the little girl would have seen
the resemblance.

  Durand had confirmed that Alyona had been tortured to learn what she knew, which was nothing, and then she was sentenced to hard labor inside a prison camp. After she’d been freed, relatives in Nikolaevsk, Alaska, managed to get her to America once the cold war ended, and she now resided in Anchorage. Durand could find no trace of what had happened to the child Hanover had sired.

  Sara thought if anyone had a reason to hate Lyle Hanover and want revenge it was Alyona Petrov.

  Durand emerged from a guest room dressed and shaved. When Sara greeted him and told him she had coffee in a carafe. Durand sat and poured a cup.

  “Did any of the material I brought you seem helpful?”

  “Yes,” Sara said. “I’m interested in speaking to Alyona Petrov, as well as another woman, Tiffany Austen.”

  “As I said last night, the story concerning Tiffany Austen is just a rumor, and the girl did recant her accusations.”

  “I understand, but I think every word she said is true. Hanover is a bastard. It’s no stretch of the imagination to envision him as a lecherous bastard as well.”

  Tiffany Austen was the daughter of Janet Austen, a single mom who worked in the CIA offices in Langley, Virginia, as a low-level office worker. Five years earlier, at the age of eighteen, Tiffany told her mother she had slept with Lyle Hanover while she was still underaged. She claimed she had done so after Hanover had promised her he would promote her mother while tripling her salary. He also threatened to fire Janet if Tiffany turned him down.

  Sara had gone on line and found photos of Tiffany Austen. Most of them were taken while she was in high school and working as a teenage model. The girl was an exceptional beauty with long auburn hair and blue eyes.

  Rumor had it that Tiffany’s mother went to the police to see about getting Hanover arrested for statutory rape. The following day her home was raided, and illegal prescription drugs were found along with a pound of marijuana.

  Tiffany also had a run-in with the law when a bloody knife with her prints on it was found at the scene of a murder. The victim of the murder was Tiffany’s mother.