Wrecking Team Page 2

  ‘She doesn’t like her security detail. It cramps her lifestyle, she says. She won’t like having you around. If we meet here, it will seem like the NYPD wants you. That’ll help convince her.’

  Beth looked questioningly at Rolando, who nodded.

  ‘Set it up.’

  ‘About payment,’ Konstantin began when the sisters rose for the final time.

  ‘There’s nothing to be discussed,’ Meghan cut him off.

  ‘Are you always this belligerent?’ he demanded.

  ‘No, sir. We save this act for billionaires who don’t start off with please.’

  Chapter Four

  The sisters were back in Rolando’s office two days later. By then they knew a lot more about Angie, the attempts on her life, and Hiram Konstantin.

  None of the intel helped them understand why the daughter was being targeted. In all the attacks, the perps had escaped.

  ‘Her dad’s a billionaire. Kidnap for ransom. What’s so hard to understand?’ Beth told her sister impatiently when Meghan shook her head.

  ‘She isn’t the only billionaire’s child. There are several. She is not the only wilful heiress. Why her?’

  ‘Something related to Konstantin’s businesses?’

  ‘Nope.’ Meghan rejected that theory. ‘The NYPD investigated all threats he had received. All were crank messages. They haven’t found any connection to these attacks.’

  ‘Let’s go meet her.’

  The same reception committee awaited them when they reached One Police Plaza. Rolando conversing with Konstantin, Pizaka and Chang leaning against a wall, looking at nothing in particular.

  No Angie, who breezed in an hour later with her retinue. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a green top over blue jeans.

  Three in her security detail, who positioned themselves outside Rolando’s office, and an assistant who remained a discreet distance away, phone in hand.

  Dad has no EA accompanying him, but the daughter has. Meghan smirked inwardly. Her threads and shoes would feed a village in Africa for a week.

  The heiress didn’t offer any apology for her late arrival. Her eyes were cool, her lips curled, when she surveyed the sisters.

  ‘You didn’t tell me they were women, Dad,’ she sniffed disdainfully. ‘I have a protection detail. Kerry, Carlos and Quincy are good. I don’t need more people around me. Certainly not babes.’

  Beth stiffened but kept quiet when Meghan threw her a glance. Let’s see how Dad responds.

  ‘Honey’ — Konstantin had the grace to look embarrassed — ‘we need to find out who’s behind these —’

  ‘The cops are investigating.’

  ‘That’s not enough. Beth and Meghan are highly recommended. I think we need their expertise.’

  ‘I don’t,’ she said, wearing a mulish expression while she continued to stare at the sisters. ‘I don’t like them.’

  ‘You don’t even know them!’

  Meghan had had enough. ‘Sir, we are outta here. We will not work with a principal who doesn’t want us. Good luck keeping her alive.’

  ‘Hey,’ Angie burst out furiously, ‘who do you think you are?’

  ‘The two people who just might be able to help you.’

  ‘Dad, they’ll cramp my life,’ the daughter whined.

  ‘Yeah, we will,’ said Beth, contemptuous. ‘We’ll look into every person in your life. Your friends, boyfriend, ex-es, everyone. We’ll shadow you. You need to powder your nose? We’ll follow you to the restroom. We’ll be all over your life … and you just might thank us. Or maybe not. Babes like you have had everything handed over to them.’

  ‘Dad!’ Angie reddened and turned furiously on her father, who had a strange expression on his face.

  ‘I’m done arguing with you, honey. Beth and Meghan are on the team. Deal with it.’

  Angie Konstantin dealt with it by stomping her foot furiously. She jerked her head at her assistant, who hurried to the door and opened it for her exit.

  Meghan made a later gesture towards the billionaire and the cops and darted towards the door. Beth fell in beside her, muttering, ‘How do we handle this?’

  Meghan smirked, ‘Show her who’s in charge.’

  Chapter Five

  Angie Konstantin was nowhere in sight when they entered the hallway outside Rolando’s office.

  Three men were standing beside the door, two of them with buzzcuts and flat, alert eyes, the third scruffy, with stubble on his chin.

  Kerry, Quincy and Carlos, Meghan guessed. ‘Where did she go?’

  ‘To the ladies’ room, ma’am,’ one of the buzzcuts replied, nodding towards the far end of the corridor.

  ‘You didn’t follow her?’

  ‘I would like to,’ Stubble drawled, ‘but unfortunately she doesn’t play that way.’ His eyes sharpened as they swept over the sisters. ‘Now, you two … I wouldn’t mind playing —’

  Meghan whirled on her heel, noticing the look of distaste on the buzzcuts’ faces. Her hand dipped towards her thigh, came up clutching a six-inch blade. She jabbed its point at Stubble’s neck, nicked the skin and drew a bead of blood.

  ‘Don’t finish that,’ she hissed. ‘Unless you want me to finish your shave.’

  The man paled and swallowed.

  Meghan stepped back immediately, the knife disappearing when the commissioner’s office door opened. Konstantin stepped out, followed by the cops. His eyes narrowed when he noticed the look on Stubble’s face.

  ‘Something happened?’

  ‘No, sir. We were just talking.’

  ‘What’s that on your neck? Blood?’

  ‘I ... uh. A shaving cut. It’s reopened.’

  ‘Where’s Angie?’

  Meghan turned towards the corridor, cursing herself. We let that punk distract us.

  She and Beth raced towards the restroom.

  It was empty.

  ‘Call her!’ she snapped at the assistant.

  Angie Konstantin didn’t answer.

  ‘Where could she have gone?’

  ‘She meets her friends on Times Square, sir. This time of the day. It’s a regular thing,’ Stella, the assistant, stammered.

  ‘There’s an elevator further down,’ Chang said, pointing as the sisters explored the hallway. ‘It goes right down.’

  Beth jabbed the call button several times, gave up, and pushed open the door to the stairwell. ‘We’ll find her,’ she called over her shoulder and raced down the steps.

  Twenty minutes to reach the ground floor. A quick look around to confirm that Angie Konstantin wasn’t anywhere in the lobby. A call to Stella to get the daughter’s number. And then Meghan drove their SUV as Beth punched the number and brought up the phone’s location on the dash screen.

  ‘There she is,’ she said grimly, when the orange dot showed up, heading midtown.

  Meghan floored it through New York’s traffic, her lips set tight. Angie Konstantin had to learn that she couldn’t slip away by herself anymore. Who better than the Petersen sisters to teach her that lesson?

  Half an hour of furious driving through the city brought them to Times Square. Fifteen minutes of scanning the sidewalks, as Beth tried Angie’s number.

  ‘There!’

  Meghan followed her sister’s eyes. Saw the flash of green, golden hair bobbing. Two women with Angie.

  She rolled down the window, made to call out, when Beth grabbed her arm.

  ‘Look behind them. Heavies.’

  Which was how Meghan found herself flying through the air like an arrow towards the three goons.

  Chapter Six

  Someone screamed as she started falling, her leg tight, straight and thrusting forward.

  The blonde head ahead of her was turning, alerted by her warning shout of Shooter. Two heavies were reacting, whirling around, hands reaching beneath their jacket.

  Meghan’s foot landed on the first attacker’s chest, the full weight of her body crashing into him. She heard his ribs crack above the noise of the crowd.
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  She used him as a pivot point, leaping away before she lost her balance, attention turning towards the remaining men, both of whom had fully turned now.

  Their hands snaking out from beneath their jackets. Angie Konstantin several feet to her right. Her eyes wide, mouth opening soundlessly, her friends grabbing her shoulder and pulling her away.

  Meghan landed on both feet, body crouching, presenting a low target.

  Someone moved in her peripheral vision. Beth. She’ll take care of the fallen man.

  She drew her Glock from her shoulder holster, a move so smooth, so liquid, that one moment her palm was empty, and the next, it was curled around the grip.

  The heavy to her right was the faster of the two men. Her weapon spat without conscious thought or aim. A red flower blossomed on his right shoulder. He stumbled, fell back.

  The remaining thug dived away, giving himself space, his gun rising. Meghan turned, her barrel following him, placing herself as a target, giving Angie time to get away. She had armor beneath her top, as had Beth. She wasn’t unduly worried about body shots. Her eyes narrowed, her weapon rose. This shot had to count. There were too many people around to risk a prolonged shoot-out.

  A rush of air behind her.

  ‘Watch out!’ Beth’s desperate yell.

  Her sister body-slammed her, and the two went rolling, just as the distinctive chatter of an automatic weapon sounded.

  ‘DOWN!’ she hollered as loudly as she could, trying to spot Angie, feeling relief when she saw the heiress fleeing into a store.

  She held tight to her sister, and the two kept turning desperately until they crashed into a lamp post, then sprang apart, Meghan twisting her head to look behind, her Glock, which was still in her hand, following her eyes.

  No shooters.

  Traffic had stalled, horns blaring, people staying put in their vehicles. She raced to the street and spotted a black SUV receding in the distance. It turned a corner and disappeared from sight.

  ‘That’s the one,’ Beth confirmed, joining her. ‘Came from nowhere. Lucky, I spotted the barrel.’

  Meghan knew there was no luck to it. One sister always had the other’s back. She flicked her hair back, straightening suddenly when she remembered the heavies. She hurried back to the sidewalk, where people were emerging from hiding. Her heart sank when she saw the still bodies of the thugs and the ugly wounds on their chests.

  ‘All dead.’ Beth gritted her teeth and helped her twin check out bystanders.

  An elderly lady had taken a round in her shoulder. A tourist had a grazed temple. Two others had more serious injuries: a woman with a round in her stomach, a man with a chest wound.

  She was helping the injured when the first cruiser rolled up and cops pointed weapons at them.

  ‘RAISE YOUR HANDS!’

  Chapter Seven

  It took three hours for their statements to be recorded, and for a shaken Angie Konstantin and her friends to be interviewed. A captain made a few calls when Meghan dropped the commissioner’s name and nodded at his officers to let them go.

  ‘We’ll need your guns, ma’am. To run tests and match the rounds.’

  ‘They have any IDs on them?’ Beth asked as they handed over their Glocks.

  ‘No, ma’am. We’ll have to run their prints and their guns.’

  Hiram Konstantin was waiting for them in the commissioner’s office when they arrived after dropping off Angie’s friends.

  He thrust out his hands and gathered in his sobbing daughter, comforting her.

  ‘You shouldn’t have split like that,’ Beth shot at Angie when a semblance of normalcy returned.

  ‘No one tells me what to do, not even my dad,’ the heiress retorted.

  ‘From now on, you’ll do as we say.’

  ‘Or you’ll die. You nearly did today,’ Meghan cut in impatiently. ‘Listen to us and stay alive. Want to die? We’re out. Your choice.’

  Angie’s face reddened. She turned to her father for support, but he was of no help. ‘I have a security detail,’ she said, tossing her hair back. ‘They’ll protect me.’

  ‘Like they did today?’ Beth sneered. ‘They didn’t even know where you were. Where are they, anyway?’

  ‘I fired them,’ the billionaire replied. ‘I’ll need to get another —’

  ‘That won’t be necessary, sir. We know someone … that is, if you and your daughter still need us.’

  ‘We do,’ the billionaire said, clamping his jaw resolutely. ‘I’ll need to interview them.’

  ‘Dad!’

  ‘Him, sir,’ Beth replied, liking the way Konstantin was overriding his daughter.

  ‘Just one man?’ Konstantin shifted on his feet, flicking a look at the commissioner.

  ‘He’ll be enough, sir. If he’s who I think he is,’ Rolando assured him. ‘You’ve asked him?’ He turned to the twins.

  ‘He’ll do it,’ Beth chuckled.

  ‘I would love to see that … when you tell him.’

  ‘Am I missing something? Who’s this man?’ Konstantin interrupted.

  ‘You’ll meet him, sir,’ Beth told him. ‘We’ll need the files on your protection detail. Angie — your friends, we’ll need their details, too.’

  ‘Kerry, Carlos, and Quincy didn’t do anything!’ Angie burst out. ‘And leave my friends out of your investigation.’

  ‘Not going to happen,’ Beth replied sharply. ‘Those hitters knew where you were within minutes of you leaving this office. Someone told them.’

  Or they knew your routine. Which means they surveilled you, knew your patterns.

  ‘Beth’s right, ma’am. My officers will be taking the same angle,’ Rolando said with a shrug, running interference before Angie Konstantin blew up.

  ‘Beth and Meghan,’ he addressed the billionaire, ‘know what they’re doing.’

  You’d better listen to them. He didn’t have to say the words. They hung heavily in the air.

  Konstantin nodded. He grasped his daughter by an elbow and shook hands with Beth.

  ‘Call me. I’ll arrange for everything you need.’ And with that, he left the commissioner’s office.

  Rolando sagged wearily into his chair when the door shut. ‘Remind me why I took on this job?’

  ‘For the money, of course.’ Beth grinned and dropped herself in another seat. ‘What do you know about those shooters?’

  ‘Huh? Give us time! However, if we go by the previous attempts, we’ll find nothing on them.’

  ‘Why her?’ Meghan played with a paperweight, bouncing it in her palm.

  ‘If I knew that …’ Rolando raised his hands helplessly. ‘You’ll really get Zeb to shadow her?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘He’ll agree?’

  ‘If I say please, yeah.’

  Chapter Eight

  ‘You want me to do what?’

  Zeb propped himself on an elbow and looked at Beth incredulously.

  Their office on Columbus Avenue. Broker whistling softly, doing work-like stuff on his screen. Bear and Chloe in the small kitchen, brewing coffees. Bwana and Roger nowhere in sight, presumably out with their girlfriends. Zeb on his couch, looking like he was asleep. Until Beth dropped her bombshell.

  ‘You heard me. Angie Konstantin. She needs protection. You are it.’

  Zeb sat straight. He was the lead operative in the Agency. He went after terrorists, international criminal gangs, and threats to national security. Many in his line of work said he was the most lethal agent they knew. And here he was, being asked to babysit a billionaire’s daughter.

  ‘I don’t —’

  ‘You will, now,’ Beth said firmly, hiding a smile. Meghan and she had discussed the best way to convince Zeb, on their way over.

  ‘The direct approach is the best,’ Meghan told her.

  Beth was executing it. ‘There have been three attempts on her. There was a fourth today. Her father wants us to investigate. We need you to keep her safe.’

  Broker raised his he
ad, observed the byplay, winked when he read Beth’s face and went back to his screen when Zeb looked at him sharply.

  ‘Her father can’t afford security?’ Zeb asked, thinking of ways to wriggle out of this one.

  ‘He can. She had a detail. She evaded them today. Besides, they aren’t investigators. They are glorified heavies.’

  ‘Bwana, Rog —’

  ‘Will stand out.’

  ‘Bear and Chloe,’ Zeb persisted. ‘They’re the best close protection team.’

  ‘You’ve seen Bear’s size?’ Beth sniffed disdainfully making a discreet gesture as the couple entered the room carrying cups of coffee. ‘He’s built like a mountain.’

  ‘We’ve got stuff to do, in any case,’ Bear growled.

  ‘What stuff?’ Zeb asked suspiciously.

  ‘Vacation,’ Chloe cut in smoothly. ‘We haven’t had one in months.’

  ‘This doesn’t feel like a vacation?’ Zeb frowned at them. ‘We have been idle for weeks. No mission. The two of you have done nothing but laze around.’

  ‘Nothing feels like a vacation when you’re around,’ Bear snorted. ‘Do what Beth says. The world needs you.’

  ‘Nope. Only a billionaire,’ Beth said.

  ‘His daughter,’ Meghan corrected.

  Zeb stared at them, hoping the twins were joking. They weren’t. Two pairs of green eyes looked back at him.

  ‘When?’

  ‘Right away.’

  Zeb knew when he was beaten. He got to his feet, put on his shoulder holster and donned his jacket.

  ‘Zeb?’ said Meghan, her voice silky smooth.

  ‘Yeah.’ He stopped at the door.

  ‘Hiram Konstantin wants to interview you.’

  ‘I don’t do interviews.’

  ‘You will, now. Konstantin is important to Commissioner Rolando.’

  His shoulders drooped, but he made no protest.

  ‘Zeb?’ Beth this time, syrupy sweet.

  ‘What now?’

  ‘Angie Konstantin can be difficult.’

  Zeb fled.