Nowhere to Run - Chapter 7

“He’s gone.” 

     Ned Janerone stood in the office of Robert Newport, the Director of the Team. The dark paneling gave the room a cave-like feeling, but it fit its owner. The wall behind the desk was spread with metals that bespoke of a successful military career. Robert Newport was an ex-Marine with a mean streak a mile long, and right now he was frowning.  He looked like a grizzly bear with a bad headache.  A huge man with rough features, small beady black eyes, and a mouth that was constantly pressed into a thin, disgusted line. When he turned that cold, merciless glare on the men under his command he could make their blood congeal. Newport was known for his brutal tactics and lack of conscious. Ned Janerone fought the urge to fidget as that infamous, icy scowl, turned on him. He stood perfectly still, hands clasped tightly behind his back where he could hide their trembling.

     The man behind the desk spoke slowly. Each word a growl. “I send a team of six men in. They create complete chaos and the target still gets away.  Do you have any idea how much trouble you caused by going in like commandos? I told you to get Dimitri Michaels and you get everyone but him. What the hell went on there?”

     “Stevens is dead. Found shot in an alley.” Janerone’s voice faltered, “Feldner is dead too, shot with his own gun outside Michael’s room.”

     “And where pray tell, were the other four clowns while Dimitri Michaels was killing my best men?”

     “Deployed at the exits on the lower floor.  Standard operating procedure.”

The director’s fist slammed down hard on the desk and in spite of himself, Janerone flinched.

     “Standard operating procedure? Didn’t anyone realize that Michaels knows all your Goddamn procedures! Hell! He invented half of them.”

     “He is going by the name Michael Conners now, not Dimitri Michaels.” Janerone continued, hoping to deflect the director's wrath. “Also he doesn’t seem to be alone anymore.”

     The director’s shoulders straightened a bit. He was listening now as Ned Janerone continued.    

     “There’s a girl, name; Evelyn Jones, but goes by Evie.  She’s a waitress at a small restaurant a few blocks from the boarding house.  She had the room right across the hall. Near as we can figure as soon as he was challenged he ran to this girl's room. Yanked her out the window and down off the roof. We assume they’re a couple.”

     “Assume? Do you have any evidence of this? Are you sure? Did you ask around about them? Are they still together?”

     “Yes sir.” Janerone faltered again. He was sweating profusely now. The questions had been fired so quickly he wasn’t sure which one to answer first. “I’m sure they’re together. We checked the recently stolen cars in the area.  They included a Mercedes, two Hondas, a Camery and one Ford mini van.  We’re betting they’re in the Camery, Sir.”

     “Think again,” the director replied, his eyes narrowed as they pinned Janerone.  “They’re in the Minivan.”

     “Sir?” Janerone looked at him incredulity.

     “So this girl and Michaels.... you are sure they're a couple?”

     Janerone hesitated. “We--a--we, we think so. He wasn’t fully dressed at the time, so—“

     ”If they’re involved can we use her to flush him out?” The director’s mind was churning now. Looking for the possibilities.  Michaels was the one man who could still ruin his career, and it was taking much too long to terminate him.  He remembered that day in Montana when he had finally managed to get rid of John Drake. Out of the corner of his eye he had seen Michaels retreat from the room as he planted the weapon.  He knew he had to eliminate him then. Only Michaels had disappeared before he could arrange an accident for him. One weak link gone, one to go. Since then, Dimitri Michaels had been a curse that haunted him. He was determined to eliminate him if it was the last thing he ever did.

     “Sir, near as we can figure she’s still with him and...”

“I know she’s still with him, damn it!” The director shot to his feet and started pacing the length of the room. “But she must have family, someone she cares about.  You get to her and you’ll get them both. We must eliminate Michaels. He’s too much of a lose wire. He could fry us all.”

     “We’re doing the best we can, Sir.”

     “The best you can?” Robert Newport thrust his fist in Janerone’s face. “You shot up a damn boarding house! Is that the best you can do?”

     “Well sir…” he rocked back slightly on his heals to avoid contact with the angry man before him.

     The director got up in Janerone’s face; “You were in on that raid in Montana, too. If I go down because of your incompetence in eliminating Michaels, I’m bringing you down with me. You got that?”

     “Y-yes Sir.”

     "You have twenty-four hours to come up with a solid lead in this case."  Newport moved around behind the desk.

     "Yes, Sir."

     "If you don't have a solid lead within twenty-four hours you can forget about finding him. That man knows how to disappear. And if he disappears you may, too."

     The threat was made in a growl just above a whisper.  The director's deep voice rumbling through him making every last nerve he had tremble. It was all Janerone could do not to let the man see him quake.