SIXTEEN
The Gulfstream G450 touched down on a private strip at Austin–Bergstrom International Airport at 4:22 a.m. The pilot then taxied into an empty hangar where a white Range Rover and a black Ford Taurus sat parked next to each other. There was only one passenger on the flight. He’d been picked up at a private airstrip in New Jersey a few hours ago. His name was Logan Gervais. Born in Quebec, he was once a promising Canadian federal agent specializing in cyberterrorism. Gervais was as skilled with the computer as he was with his gun. But he’d left his government position ten years ago to become an independent contractor in New York City. He was best known around Manhattan as the Ghost because of his uncanny ability to appear and disappear in the most impossible places to get a job done. Gervais hadn’t come up with the name himself—a client who wanted a business competitor eliminated gave it to him—but he certainly loved it.
As the jet came to a stop, Gervais remained sitting in his plush leather seat, sipping a cup of coffee while staring out the window at the two parked vehicles. At five nine and 160 pounds with close-cropped brown hair, Gervais looked more like an accountant than a hit man—which, of course, played well for him in his work. It was unusual for him to take a job on such short notice, much less get on a plane at such an obscenely early hour. But this client had agreed to pay more than double his normal retaining fee, so he said yes. Plus, he liked Austin. He’d been there a couple of times over the years for music festivals. There was also a Formula One race scheduled for the coming week. Gervais thought he might hang around town after he finished and check it out.
The pilot came out of the cockpit, opened the cabin door, lowered the stairs, and left the plane. A minute later, a sixtysomething man in a black suit got out of the Range Rover, walked over to the plane, and boarded. The pilot remained outside. Gervais recognized the man in the suit as the same lawyer who’d worked the proper back channels to contact him. This man was not the client, but he worked for the client—this was usually how these things were done. He rarely met face-to-face with the powerful and wealthy individuals who wanted someone dead. Sometimes Gervais wasn’t even sure who was paying the bill—which didn’t really matter to him as long as the money was transferred into his account.
“Mr. Gervais, my name is Nelson Wyatt. I spoke with you on the phone earlier. Thank you for coming here so quickly.”
“Do you have everything I requested?”
Wyatt nodded. “I had a car delivered. It’s waiting outside for you. I just sent the digital file to the encrypted link you forwarded to me earlier. Everything you wanted should be in there. If not, please do let me know.”
“Very good. As I mentioned before, the remainder of the money must be wired to my account within twenty-four hours of completion.”
“Yes, if you complete it within the time frame we discussed, it will be there.”
Gervais gave him a half smile. “I can assure you, I will complete it.”
Wyatt looked nervous. Gervais liked that.
“Is there anything else you need at this time?” Wyatt asked.
“No, you can go now.”
Wyatt nodded and backed out of the plane like he was afraid Gervais might shoot him in the back. Gervais found it humorous how people would often act around him—like he was some kind of psycho who ran around and shot everyone in sight. The truth couldn’t be more different. Gervais was just a businessman with a unique skill set and an unusual service to offer. Reaching down beside him, he grabbed his leather backpack and pulled it into his lap. Unzipping it, he lifted his laptop out and then opened it up on a small tabletop in front of him. A few clicks later, he was inside an encrypted website he used for jobs like this one.
The digital file the lawyer had mentioned was in place. Gervais opened it and began to examine the information. There were several photos of his target. He was a handsome everyman type of guy a few years older than himself. There was also a long list of known friends, associates, and other contacts his client thought were important. Gervais would immediately put his covert online skills to work on each of the individuals on the list. If the target reached out to one of them through any of the usual means, Gervais would know and be able to quickly respond. This was how he did his job better than anyone else.
Sitting back, Gervais again studied a photo of the man. He wondered what this poor guy could have possibly done to deserve a meeting with the Ghost. He wasn’t an important politician, government leader, or even a high-profile businessman, like most of his usual targets. What kind of client paid half a million dollars to eliminate a high school football coach?