Free Alpha Kill - 03 by Tim Stevens

it early on.
    Rosenbloom had hacked a number of truckers’ VHF radio communications from his car, and he’d learned from the disgruntled drivers that the interstate was littered with roadblocks and state police cars. It wasn’t worth the risk. So Skeet and Walusz and Rosenbloom worked out an alternative route, one which took them on and off the main roads and at times deep into rural Illinois and then Indiana and Ohio.
    Drake didn’t interfere, relying on the others to plan the route for him. But he was irritated. He’d been hoping to reach New York in twelve hours, by lunchtime tomorrow. At this rate, they’d get there by late afternoon or early evening.
    It didn’t really matter, he guessed. The man he was going to kill would be there. And night time was the best time to hit him, anyhow. It was just that Drake liked to have a little time beforehand, to scout out the territory, identify the dangers and pitfalls, before moving in. He was cautious, and methodical, which explained why he’d stayed out of jail as long as he had.
    After they’d been driving several hours, he decided to take a nap. After Lester Fairbanks had gotten word to him about the date of the breakout, Drake had made sure he got as much sleep as possible beforehand. Again, it was his careful, planning nature at work. But even though he didn’t feel sleepy, he knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to stay awake all night, not if he was going to do the hit later that day.
    He tilted back the passenger seat and closed his eyes.
    A minute later, his cell phone rang.
    Skeet had given him the phone earlier. It had in turn been supplied to Skeet by a man who, alone, knew its number.
    Drake answered. “Yeah.”
    A man’s voice said, without preamble: “Do you know who I am?”
    Like, duh , thought Drake. “I can guess.”
    “Any complications?” said the man.
    “With the breakout, you mean? No,” Drake replied. “And I got rid of Fairbanks.”
    He sensed the man wincing at the other end. “Please. No names. Where are you now?”
    Drake peered out the window. A sign was coming up alongside the road.
    “Near Lima, Ohio.”
    “When do you expect to reach New York?”
    Drake glanced at Walusz, but it was no use asking him. The guy couldn’t speak.
    “Maybe tomorrow afternoon. This afternoon, I guess it is now. Could be later. I don’t want to rush this trip. Every state between here and New York is crawling with cops. If I have to detour five hundred miles, I’ll do it.”
    The man at the other end of the phone said quickly, “Yes, of course. You mustn’t get stopped. Take as long as you need.”
    Drake sat up, interested. “Why does it matter? You sound like there’s some urgency about this. So what if I kill this guy tomorrow, or the next day, or in a week?”
    “That isn’t your concern,” the man said, a note of testiness creeping into his voice.
    “So why exactly are you calling me?” said Drake.
    “To provide you with my number, mainly,” said the man. “Which you now have. In case you need to contact me while you’re in New York.”
    “Why would I want to do that?” The guy’s prissy tone was starting to irritate Drake.
    “In case you need my help.”
    Drake laughed. “Hey, man. Trust me. Killing is kind of what I’m good at, remember? I’ve got all of the help I need, right here with me.”
    Down the line, the man gave a faint sigh. “All right. There’s another reason I called you.”
    “Yeah?”
    “I’m hanging up now. In a few seconds you’ll get a text message.”
    Before Drake could reply, the call was cut off.
    Drake looked at the screen.
    Sure enough, ten seconds later a message arrived.
    It was blank, but there was an image attached.
    Drake stared at it.
    For the first time since his escape, for the first time since as far back as he could recall, he felt a sucker punch of fear in his gut.
    Oh God...
    He enlarged the image with a swipe of his finger and thumb.
    Yes, there was no doubt.
    Drake gripped the