Page 21 of Deadly Target
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The marshal was on the move again.
The man watched the red dot pulse on the map, glad he’d stuck the small tracking device on her car when he’d seen her at the hospital. She was proving to be of more value than he’d expected.
Technology was a wonderful thing. A few years ago, he would’ve had to physically follow her, and she was a busy woman. He would’ve found himself running all over the place, trying to keep up with her. Today, he had time, so he’d followed her just for fun.
She was an unexpected bonus in this scenario. He hadn’t realized she was involved with the director, and his ego smarted a little. The director was a slight impediment on that front, but give the situation time. Olivia would come around.
Now he understood things differently and he was always one to use every opportunity.
Deputy US Marshal Olivia Fiorelli definitely presented a prime one. It was no hardship to seduce her into his web.
She could access important information he needed and assist in his mission with the director, without ever realizing she was doing so. She might also offer a bonus target his superiors would appreciate, but that’d mean putting his quest to win her heart aside.
No way he was doing that. Olivia was his and he would protect her at all costs. She was the woman he wanted next to him when he pushed his bosses out of the way and moved to take over the Southern California quadrant of the Fifty-seven Gang. The DeStefano Syndicate was going down in flames, and the sooner the better.
More power, more money, more security. He could eliminate his enemies in one fell stroke, all thanks to the woman driving the car he watched on the GPS map.
She was headed for the hospital, leading him to believe there were two possibilities. Cooper Harris was dead, or the man was awake and talking.
While he preferred the former, his gut told him it was the latter. Either way, it made no difference. Harris wasn’t the real target. Neither were the other taskforce members. In his line of work, a good distraction and sleight-of-hand were the best ways of getting what he wanted. It was unfortunate he’d missed the man’s heart by centimeters—another dead agent on his kill list would be a nice addition, especially one as prominent and seemingly invincible as Harris—but in the end, it was the director he wanted gone.
Soon. Very soon.
Everything was going to work out fine. With Olivia providing effective intel, it might be sooner than he’d originally planned. All he had to do was convince her he was the better man.
Which meant finding a way to make Director Dupé look like the bad guy in this scenario.
Hmm…
That would take some doing, but it wasn’t impossible. The man turned over options and ideas as he tracked Olivia’s progress. Watching the red dot make a turn off the main road, he wondered if she would return to Carlsbad yet tonight. She had a meeting later; would she put Dupé over her job?
His phone rang with a call from one of his superiors. He thought about letting it go to voicemail, yet believed in taking care of things immediately and not letting them pile up. He’d have to talk to the man sooner or later, might as well get it over with.
As he watched the red pulsing dot arrive at the hospital parking lot, he answered with a statement. “Nothing to worry about, boss. I have everything under control.”
The man on the other end seemed to disagree, launching into a series of arguments and accusations. The red dot stopped.
Interrupting his superior wasn’t the best idea, but he wasn’t in the mood for being berated by a man who sent others to do his dirty work while he enjoyed the power and profits his position allowed.
“I told you I have everything under control,” the man said. “Let me do my job.”
“Where are you?” his superior asked. “We should meet. Now.”
Not going to happen. “I’m in San Diego,” he said, staring at the red dot. “I should have more information after tonight. I’ll be in touch.”
He disconnected, knowing it was a bad idea, but the other man didn’t realize his days were numbered. Soon, he’d be nothing but another mark at the end of the riflescope.
Because taking out Victor Dupé was only the first step in the overall plan. Soon, DeStefano and Molina would join him six feet under, somewhere in the desert.
His superiors were shortsighted. They were so intent on controlling the micro aspects of California, they kept missing the bigger picture.
He sat back and took a swig of whiskey. He could appreciate the director’s position as head of the entire West Coast FBI, but he needed a source inside the Bureau to smooth the way for certain transactions. From all accounts, Director Dupé was not that person. He couldn’t be bribed or threatened into cooperating.
Which only left one option—someone needed to take his place.
Taking another sip, he sat back, eyeing the GPS as a new thought came to him. If Dupé had feelings for the marshal, that could work to his advantage, at least in the short term.
