Raising Kane: A Nick Hunter Novel Read online

  Razing Kane

  A Nick Hunter Novel

  Vallon Grey

  Razing Kane

  A Nick Hunter Novel

  Copyright © 2022 by Vallon Grey

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise – without prior written permission of the copyright owner.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  OTHER TITLES BY VALLON GREY

  Nick Hunter Thriller Series

  Into the Fire

  The Wages of Sin

  Memories of the Past

  Depths of Darkness

  Nowhere to Hide

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  Contents

  1. Prologue

  2. Chapter 1

  3. Chapter 2

  4. Chapter 3

  5. Chapter 4

  6. Chapter 5

  7. Chapter 6

  8. Chapter 7

  9. Chapter 8

  10. Epilogue

  Titles

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  About the Author

  Prologue

  Caleb Bilas was leaning on a tree. From his position he could easily see one of his dealers. She was selling coke to a rather nervous-looking young man at the other end of the park behind East Capitol Community Center. Caleb didn’t like nervous customers, they could draw too much attention, but his girl did a good job. The exchange went quickly, and she moved away from him as soon as she had the money. She was good at this, he thought. Maybe it was time to promote her, give her a few dealers of her own to run.

  “Caleb.”

  He heard his name and turned. Coming from his right was a man he vaguely recognized. He was big, muscular, and moved like he knew what to do with that strength. Caleb swung his eyes a bit further to the right. Yes, his bodyguard was moving behind the big man, keeping a couple of steps behind him. All was good.

  The big man came to a halt on the other side of the tree. “Hi, Caleb, remember me?”

  “I do,” Caleb began. “But I can’t remember where.”

  The man grinned. “Well, it was a busy night.”

  Caleb grinned back, the memory rushing back. “Ah, yes, that screwed up meeting at the Chinese place. Obregon and Franco were there. You were providing some sort of muscle for them. Then the cops showed and the whole thing turned to hell. I was lucky to get out of that without being hauled in. You… your name is Kane.”

  The big man was still grinning. “Nothing wrong with your memory.”

  Caleb shrugged. “I’m a businessman. I need a decent memory. What happened to you that night?”

  “Long story,” Kane said. “But basically I tracked down those responsible for that little fracas and nailed them. They’re not going to be a problem for me anymore.”

  Caleb grinned. “Good work, man. I appreciate that. So what you doing now?”

  “Cleaning up,” Kane replied. “I want to make sure no one else can ID me.”

  It took Caleb a second to realize what that meant. When he did, though, he acted quickly. He put the tree between him and the big man and shouted for his bodyguard.

  It wasn’t enough. Caleb couldn’t even follow what happened. Suddenly, Kane wasn’t there anymore. Caleb’s foot soldier was reaching inside his jacket for his gun as Kane reached him. The big guy swung a fist that knocked the guard’s head back so hard that Caleb swore it must have broken his neck. Then Kane’s hand was inside his victim’s jacket, pulling out the man’s gun, still in his hand. He yanked the unconscious, or worse, body around like a doll and stood before Caleb, holding his own guard’s hand, with the gun, pointed at Caleb.

  “So sad,” said Kane. “Shot by his own man. Well, it’s a rough business.”

  “Hey,” Caleb started, hearing the shakiness in his own voice. “We can talk this out, man. I can forget you, real easy. Money, I can get you money. Lots of money.”

  Kane shook his head. “Money’s easy to get. Security is what I want.”

  Caleb was still trying to think of an answer when the bullets struck his brain.

  Chapter 1

  This, thought Nick, was not what the training was for.

  He’d just broken into a five-year-old green Toyota RAV4. Hot-wiring it and disabling the alarm had taken seconds. All the training he’d been given was certainly paying off, but stealing a car from a random stranger was probably not what his trainers had had in mind. Not that this target was exactly random. The RAV4 was the most common car in DC, so stealing one of them would draw less attention. Equally important, Nick had seen the owner leave a high-spec laptop in the back. He needed one of those too. The logic was all there, but that didn’t stop him feeling a bit guilty.

  The engine came to life, and Nick quickly backed the car out of the parking lot. There weren’t a lot of people coming out of the mall at that moment, but he didn’t want to hang around, just in case. He drove quickly onto the road and headed for his next destination.

  The ATM was in another mall. It was nearly closing time, so there was no one else using it. That suited Nick perfectly. He couldn’t use any of his cards, that would raise too many red flags and have half the local police force down on him in minutes. Fortunately, Splinter had equipped him well before the network went dark. He pulled the back off his phone, and took out a card with a metallic strip like a bank card, but otherwise unmarked. It was connected to the phone by a thin cable. He slipped the card into the machine and waited. Inside the phone, software sprang to life. Assuming this piece of kit wasn’t compromised, it would start talking to the ATM’s computer, and the bank’s, and then…

  The ATM screen suddenly changed and read ‘Enter withdrawal amount.’ Nick grinned and typed in a larger figure than anyone would assume an ATM could deliver. With the help of the phone’s software, the bank’s computer would remove a tiny part of that figure from every account held by the bank. It would be so small, almost no one would notice, but it would help him immensely.

  The machine whirred and spat out cash, then more cash, and then more. Acting as calmly as possible, Nick took the money and slipped it into the inside pocket of his denim jacket. It would bulge, but he could worry about that later.

  The machine stopped making noise. Quickly, Nick taped a command into his phone. The software it had installed on the ATM should now be wiped. He pulled the card out and slipped it into the back of the phone again. Then he walked back out, making sure to keep his head down, and his cap between him and the mall’s cameras.

  He’d driven some way from the mall before he pulled over and stopped in the parking lot behind a cafe across the road from Marvin Gaye Park. He sorted out the money, storing it in various places across his clothes and the car. Then he checked the laptop in the bag. Good, it seemed to have everything he needed, though he’d have to add a little more software from his phone. There was only one thing else he wanted to get tonight, and that meant visiting an old acquaintance. He just hoped she still liked him.

  He swung the car out of the parking lot and drove into the back streets of Deanwood. If the people around here knew exactly how much cash he was carrying
, there might be some trouble. As it was, the shiny RAV4 stood out a bit among the older and less well-maintained cars.

  He pulled up at the side of the street and got out. One of the two African-American men leaning against the wall recognized him.

  “You! I got a bone to pick with you,” he said, his hand going behind his back.

  “Wait,” the woman’s voice came from a speaker beside the gate under the CCTV camera.

  The man glowered but brought an empty hand out from his back.

  Nick kept his own hands away from his body, palm out. “Hey, I didn’t want to hurt you last time, and I don’t want to now. I just want to see the boss again.”

  All three of them turned toward the camera and the speaker, waiting. Nick felt the adrenaline racing through his body. If he’d judged her wrong, he’d have to move quickly.

  Finally, the woman’s voice came back through the speaker. “Check for weapons. If he’s clean, send him in.”

  Nick raised his arms and the other man patted him down, not exactly gently, but Nick ignored that.

  “He’s clear,” the man finally told the camera.

  “Then send him in.”

  Nick grinned at the man who’d patted him down. “Don’t worry, I know the way.”

  He walked through the gate and up the path to the red brick house. As he’d expected, a tall African-American woman was standing on the doorstep, smiling at him. He was happy to see that she wasn’t cradling a shotgun this time.

  “I never expected to see you again,” she said.

  He grinned. “You know, I get that a lot.”

  “I’m told that meeting on East Capitol Street didn’t go well,” she said.

  “You didn’t attend.” It was a statement, not a question.

  She shrugged. “After talking to you, I figured there might be trouble. Staying away seemed smart.”

  “It was,” he agreed.

  “So, what you want this time?” she asked. “I mostly deal in cocaine, but somehow I don’t think you’re buying.”

  “I’m not after coke, no,” he admitted. “But I am buying.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “I need a gun,” he said. “Something untraceable. If you know of a good place to lie low, somewhere that takes cash and asks no questions, that would be good too.”

  “And what do I get?”

  “Paid,” he said simply. “This is purely a business transaction.”

  She nodded. “I trusted you once, God only knows why, but you played me straight then. Don’t see why I shouldn’t this time. Come in. I have a selection for you to check out. I guess you’ll be wanting ammo too?”

  He nodded, mounting the steps. “Yep. I hope not to need it, but life’s getting a bit strained.”

  “Lot of that going around,” she assured him, leading him deeper into the house.

  Chapter 2

  The room wasn’t the best. Splinter had made a habit of setting Nick up with reasonable quality hotel suites. This, on the other hand, was a tiny bedroom, with a distinctively musky odor, above a laundromat in Deanwood. It did, however, suit his requirements. The woman had phoned ahead, and after paying a bit more than he’d expected, it was all his. No questions had been asked, no ID had been checked. He had security, if not exactly comfort. He’d managed a good night’s sleep, now it was time to get to work.

  He spread his possessions on the stained bedsheet. He had two laptops, his old one and the one he’d stolen, as well as a Mateba Model 6 .357 magnum pistol, and his phone. He couldn’t use his phone for communication. It was highly likely that, despite Splinter’s best efforts, the signal was tracked. He’d disabled it to the point it would no longer transmit, but to be safe, he kept the battery disconnected unless he needed to use its ‘extra functions’.

  The same went for his laptop. In theory, Splinter had made the Wi-Fi signal untraceable, but Nick was having serious reservations about that claim. He did, however, need the software packed into the machine. He connected the two computers with a USB cable and waited for both to boot. His own device quickly cracked the security on the new one, and he copied over the software he needed. Then he shut both down. Even if the room had had internet, he wouldn’t use it. There was always a possibility that someone could track him. Working through a more public setting made more sense. Hell, he needed to do some clothes shopping anyway.

  He packed everything up and headed back downstairs to the Toyota.

  He dove carefully, having no desire to draw attention to himself. At Landover Hills, he pulled into a burger place that offered free Wi-Fi. The right location was always going to be difficult. He needed somewhere far enough away from his hiding hole that even if the signal was traced, it wouldn’t lead to the area he was in. At the same time, every mile driven in the stolen Toyota raised the chance that he’d be pulled over by an observant cop. Landover Hills was the best compromise.

  He ordered a meal and settled into a seat where he could watch the door as well as being close enough to the counter to dodge through the back if he needed to. All the field-craft training he’d done was paying off, but he’d never expected to have to use it this way.

  He powered up the laptop and set to work. As soon as he was connected he went dark, using a proxy network that should hide his IP. Then he pulled up a second program. This one, assuming it worked as advertised, should hide the address of the Wi-Fi he was using, even from the proxy network. With all that done, he was as untraceable as he could make himself.

  The next step was to get into the, supposedly non-existent, Washington DC system that collated all the cameras across the city and ran facial recognition searches. Civil liberty groups had been told by the city government that it did not operate such a system. Technically that was true. It was contracted out to a private security company. Splinter’s software broke through the company’s firewalls, giving Nick access to the files he wanted. First, he needed to make his own life easier. The Hamish Ensor file had all his physical details and several clear photos. He wiped those, replacing them with images and details for a third-rate actor he’d downloaded. It should be enough to let him walk around safely for a day or so. If they ran decent back-ups, they might notice the change, but most people didn’t. Once they asked a computer to do something, they just assumed it would. Even in a security firm, once you’d gotten in, you could do pretty much anything as long as you were careful.

  Satisfied with the first step, he moved on to the second. He didn’t upload any more information, but he hacked directly into the main feeds. With that running to his laptop, through an admittedly slow WiFi connection, he plugged Klass’s facial features into the search software on his own laptop.

  Even with the high-spec laptop, this would take a while. He started on his meal, eating slowly and watching the data as it scrolled down the screen. Several possibles, and then, a hit. Klass was still in town, and still alive. Nick felt a sudden sense of relief. She was the closest thing he had to a friend, hell, even an acquaintance, right now.

  He checked the location; an Exon Station in Georgetown. That surprised him. Really? Would she still be there? A traffic camera at Book Hill Park caught her next, driving another RAV 4. The next hit was from a camera just outside Georgetown Neighborhood Library. She was turning off the main road. Well, that was pretty clear. He’d hoped to find her, to track down her location, but this surprised him. She was either very confident in her own security or no longer cared. Well, at least it made his life easier. He knew exactly where to find her.

  Chapter 3

  Nick left the car at the burger place. Using a stolen car, in the middle of town, just wasn’t smart. He took the laptop bag with him and grabbed a change of clothes at Walmart. He needed to fit in in Georgetown, and working clothes like he was wearing, wouldn’t do.

  He got off the bus just up the road from the library and turned onto the leafy street he remembered so well. His grandfather’s old house was just down the road, not that he remembered the old man. The hous
e, though, had something of a special place in his heart. It was there that he discovered his true history. In some ways, it was where his identity, the way he saw himself today, had been born. It was, he guessed, the closest thing he had to a home right now.

  He knocked on the door. There was no sign of any security guards, or the policeman who’d been here last time was gone. It seemed just like any other tidy colonial-era house on the street.

  The door opened, and Klass stood there, one hand behind her back.

  “You’re alone Mr. Ensor?” she asked.

  “Just myself,” he replied, giving the correct phrase to indicate he was here of his own free will.

  She smiled. “Come in.”

  As soon as she closed the door behind him, he turned and asked, “What the Hell happened?”

  She motioned him into the front sitting room and gestured to a seat. “We may as well be comfortable while we discuss this.”

  He sat, thinking of all the other times he’d sat in people’s rooms, listening to their problems, with a plan already in his mind. Now, he had no plan and little idea of what had caused the problem.

  “Splinter,” Klass told him. “Has been shut down. I know, technically we’ve been shut down for a while, but this time someone has gone out of their way to make sure we are. You need to understand how all this worked, so you understand what went wrong.”

  He nodded, staying silent.

  Klass continued. “Splinter exists like the Internet. It is a series of nodes, people with specific skills, and small facilities with the ability to store or service what we need. Each small part was linked anonymously across a vast network. Most parts of the network were so isolated they didn’t even know their role in the bigger picture. This, of course, is just an extension of a normal intelligence network. The idea is to make sure that the takedown of one part won’t bring down the whole network.”