John put away the laptop but kept his iPad out with Moreau’s location. “What are your plans then, Muerto?”
“We need to move while paying attention to what Moreau does until I can find a place where I can double back on the trail without being seen. I can’t assume until the tracker places Moreau on our tails whether or not it’s actually him or he figured we cloned his phone. In which case he would have ditched it in someone’s belongings.”
“What would you have done in similar circumstances?”
“Probably the same thing he’s doing. I would have waited for an opportunity to kill the three of us even if I had to do it in public. It would even surprise the two of you how easy it would be to murder people at random and actually get away if some precaution of a disguise is taken. I’d wager he knows Salem well. He could pick a street on the way to a tourist attraction he knows we’re probably seeing. Moreau could pick an alleyway or storefront recessed entrance to wait until we passed and walk out behind us. It would be no problem for him to use a silenced weapon on everyone in our group, put away the piece, and nonchalantly leave the area, allowing our dead bodies to be the distraction.”
“What if he was using the laptop to try and find out who you are,” Gus said. “Your picture’s all over the Internet from your novels. He would have access to all of your biographical data like your stint in Delta Force.”
“True. That could be big in that he might figure because of my being in Delta Force I would naturally stand out on his radar, but my writing career could throw him off stride. Moreau didn’t get where he is being stupid. The fact I’m a novelist traveling with friends and kids could be enough of a smokescreen to confuse his instincts. It’s obvious he’s still on our track. John can split screen the GPS location and do a satellite street view showing his surroundings. I know it’s bad to assume anything, but he’s hanging around to watch our initial movements. Since he doesn’t have our location, Felix will have to make some guesses as to what attractions we’re heading to. Without a GPS location for us, he’ll have to make some guesses and go with them on a hunch.”
John nodded. “Meaning we could find a way for you to approach him while he waits for us to pass his ambush spot. Instead he gets Muerto.”
“Exactly. I don’t have my silencer so I’ll have to take it easy on what I do. Paul told me I can shoot him in front of a hundred witnesses, and I’m covered. I may have to, but I’d prefer taking him without a trip to explain national security, wet work, CIA business, and eventually be put in jail at the mercy of local cops who could give a shit less. In reality, I’d have to keep my mouth shut until Paul sends someone to spring me.”
“You can’t take chances,” Gus reasoned. “You said yourself the guy’s like you only without your good qualities. I have a bad feeling about you hunting Moreau with your hands tied behind your back. Nothing can happen to you, brother. John and I would have to go home and face the Kader family. We would be without Muerto, matchmaker supreme.”
“Before you have me already killed by Felix, we’ll see how his movements match ours. There’s our group of eager tourists. Maybe you better network with Gus so we have more than one set of eyes on his movements. I’ll watch our surroundings because if somehow we lose his signal, we’ll have to return this same way, exposing us to possible ambush on our return for the Boston ferry boat ride.”
“The next time I think you’re harnessing dumb luck when you pluck a killer out of a crowd, kick my ass,” Gus said. “You sure plucked a live one this time.”
“I was safe until my lovely wife helped me reveal the killer inside Felix. If I had simply ran into him, knocked him down and helped him up, maybe I could have kept his attention away from anyone else while discovering his gig. Water under the bridge now. Rachel sure lured him into the light. He needed to be. I don’t want the jerk lining us up in a digital scope with finger triggering a .50 caliber round from an M107 Barrett.”
Rachel moved close to Nick. “How’s it looking for a day in Salem?”