F Wilson - Fatal Error

Garvey walked off in the other direction.

Still no sign of Valez.

Shortly after that, a car pulled up ahead of him and double-parked, idling like Jack.

The so-called Garvey sat behind the wheel.

Interesting.

Then a big black Lincoln Town Car pulled up in front of the old stone Lodge. Less than a minute later Valez came limping down the steps and got in.

About time.

Jack put the van in gear and pulled out to follow, but Garvey had the same idea.

Even more interesting.

So Jack followed Garvey.

A mini caravan.

Why was Valez in one car and Garvey following? Didn't make sense. Or maybe it did. Maybe the Order had plans for him other than medical care. Jack knew from personal experience how murderous the Order became when it felt threatened. Was it equally murderous with members who displeased it? In Valez's case, he hoped so. If not, Jack would follow Valez to the hospital or wherever, then follow him home. He wanted to know where he lived so he could look him up should the need arise.

Eddie's private line rang in his office. He picked it up. Weezy maybe?

"Brother Connell?"

He recognized Fournier's voice.

"Yes."

"The Actuator wishes to meet with you."

Didn't they ever refer to Drexler by name?

"Sure. When?"

"Immediately."

"I'm in the middle of-"

"I am on my way over with a car to pick you up. I will be out front in three minutes."

He had an urge to tell him what Drexler could do with his car, but hesitated. Maybe he had some information on Weezy and why the Order was so interested in her.

"Okay. Meet you out front."

He saved the file he'd been working on, threw on his coat, and headed out. When he arrived down on Sixth Avenue, he found the car waiting for him. Fournier stood outside and pulled open the rear door as Eddie approached.

"I'm riding in the back?"

"It seems I am a chauffeur of sorts for the day."

Eddie thought this royal treatment a bit odd, but didn't see much choice but to go along. As he slid into the rear he noticed another man sitting at the far end of the seat. He looked disheveled and had a bloody bandage on his right hand.

"Meet Brother Valez. He had an accident. We are taking him for medical care, then going to Mister Drexler."

The man nodded to him distractedly. Eddie nodded back and hid his annoyance. Fournier had made it sound as if Drexler were in a rush to see him, but here they were, making a side trip.

As the car slid into motion, the door locks clicked shut.

The sound made him uneasy. But some cars locked automatically. He tried the door handle but it didn't work.

He was seated directly behind Fournier so he tapped him on the shoulder.

"What's going on with the doors? Why won't they open?"

Fournier shrugged. "Child-guard locks, I suppose. I do not know why they are engaged. Are you claustrophobic? Do you want me to stop and undo them?"

Eddie suddenly felt foolish. Yes, he was a bit claustrophobic-not so much as when he'd been a kid-but he could handle this.

"No, of course not. Just curious."

None of this seemed to bother Brother Valez. He sat to Eddie's right, brooding and clutching the wrist of his injured hand. So why let it bother him?

Jack hunched over the steering wheel of the van and stared in shock as the Lincoln pulled away… with Eddie inside and Garvey, or whoever he was, following.

Garvey's staying out of sight made sense now. Eddie would remember him from the hospital. And if Eddie connected him to the Order, he'd know something was up. But why follow at all unless…

… Eddie was headed for the same fate as Valez?

Jack hit the gas. He had to get Eddie out of the car.

But how? Under other circumstances he might approach them, acting all innocent and asking for directions. But both Garvey and Valez knew him, and even if they didn't, Eddie might give it away.

An idea began to form… one that involved a much more direct approach.

Jack hated direct approaches.

As they headed uptown, he pulled the van ahead of Garvey and settled beside the Lincoln, pacing it, looking for some indication that it might be getting ready to turn. It pulled to the far left and stopped at a light with its turn signal blinking.

Jack stopped a little ahead and to its right, checking out the driver through the windshield. No one he'd seen before. Valez slumped on the rear passenger side, looking a little dazed. Eddie, seated behind the driver, wasn't visible from this angle.

As the light for crosstown traffic turned yellow, Jack jumped the green, darting around the Lincoln and beating it onto the cross street. The Town Car honked its annoyance. Jack took his time along the block, slowing enough to make sure he was first at the stop line when the next light turned red.

He put it in park and pulled on a pair of driving gloves. He unlatched the driver door, then lay back on the front seat bench, drew up his knees, and poised the soles of his boots toward the door, ready to kick.

Things were about to get ugly.

Fournier muttered something that sounded like a curse and leaned on the horn. Eddie shifted his gaze from people watching on the sidewalk to straight ahead.

"What's wrong?"

"That damn van won't move!" He hit the horn again. "Is he asleep?"

True enough-the traffic light had turned green and the truck wasn't budging.

"Maybe he stalled."

"No," Valez said, speaking for the first time since Eddie had entered the car. "His tailpipe is smoking."

Fournier grabbed his cell phone and speed dialed someone. "I don't know what's wrong with him. Do you want me to go see?" He listened, then nodded and said, "Very well."

"Who was that?" Eddie said.

"No one."

Eddie was about to call him on that when he saw someone in a black leather biker jacket hurry past on his left and approach the van.

"Now we will see," Fournier said.

"Hey, that looks like Szeto," Valez said.

Eddie glanced over and saw a concerned, almost frightened look on his face.

"Who's that?"

"One of the Order's enforcers."

He said it like everyone knew.

"We have enforcers?"

Eddie watched as Szeto reached the van's door. Suddenly it exploded open, its edge catching him in the face and throwing him back against a parked car. Eddie jumped and leaned forward.

What the hell?

He got his first look at Szeto's face and realized he'd seen it before. But where?

He winced as the door caught Szeto twice more, slamming him against the parked car again and again. And each time Eddie saw booted feet kicking it open.

Then a man in a sweatshirt, baseball cap, and sunglasses jumped out and grabbed Szeto by the back of his head and slammed his face against the side of the truck, and once more on the roof of the parked car. He released Szeto and let him crumple to the pavement.

The bloodied face was barely recognizable now, but memory of it before all the damage sparked recognition.

Eddie cried, "He was in the hospital!" just as Valez said, "I know that guy!"

"Who?" Fournier shouted, reaching inside his coat.

The man from the van bent and pulled something from inside Szeto's jacket, then sprinted their way. Eddie noticed he now carried a pistol in his gloved hand, then looked at his face and recognized him.

"Jack!"

What was he doing-?

"Who?" Fournier repeated.

Valez said, "Him!"

Eddie saw Fournier raise his right hand clutching something dark and oblong.

A gun! What? Why? To shoot Jack?

Eddie grabbed for it. He got a two-handed grip on the barrel and tried to yank it free. Flame erupted from its muzzle with a deafening blast. Valez's head exploded in a spray of red as the window behind him shattered.