“Heads-up, the Fed is getting ready to leave. He just checked the balcony sliders and drew the curtains. I’m guessing he’ll reach the parking garage in less than three minutes, so make damn sure you’re ready.”
The man calling out the commands lowered his binoculars and rearranged himself in the seat of the stolen champagne-colored Mercedes. From his location across the street from the stacked stone–accented condo in Whitefish Bay, he had the perfect vantage point, and the limousine tint on the windows afforded him a certain degree of anonymity. He didn’t leave anything to fate or bad judgment. He hadn’t gotten that far by being careless.
Carden Vetcher sat back low in the seat, thanks to the power seat adjuster at his left hand. He tipped his black felt fedora as he peered through the windshield at that second floor unit. A simple adjustment of the toggle switch on the side mirror gave him a crystal clear visual of the condo’s driveway behind him.
His high-class appearance was nothing more than a ruse that worked well in getting him through doors usually closed to Joe Q. Public. Having that powerful image also kept his subordinates in line. Truth be told, Carden had carved out a criminal enterprise for himself years back, and only his high IQ and a decent number of successes under his belt kept him in the black.
The earbud fit snuggly in his left ear, and his cell phone sat to his right on the empty passenger seat. “Where are you—exactly?”
“I’m lurking in the shadows. Where do you think I am?”
“Need I remind you who’s calling the shots, Anthony? I’d be happy to personally get that point across to you if necessary.”
“Okay, I hear the elevator coming down.”
“His parking spot is the second one to the left. Can you see his car, plate number 379-NNF?”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it. The elevator just dinged.”
“Make sure it’s him first, then nail him with the Taser.” Carden chuckled. “The idiot won’t know what hit him. Go directly to the warehouse and take the route I outlined for you. Stay on the back roads. I’ll be right behind you.”
“I have to go. The doors are opening.”
The phone call abruptly ended, telling Carden the attack had begun. The vehicle belonging to the agent would be leaving the underground parking garage at any minute, and the real fun would begin.
“Two down and one to go.” Carden rubbed his hands with anticipation. He watched the garage’s exit through his driver’s side mirror, then he turned the key in the ignition and shifted into Drive as the agent’s car came into view. A sinister smile lit up his face. “It’s party time.” He dialed the preset number on the burner phone. “Any problems, Anthony?”
“It was as easy as taking candy from a baby, Mr. Vetcher. He didn’t even have a chance to react.”
Carden laughed with pleasure. “Nice work.” He clicked the blinker and pulled out into traffic. “I’m right behind you.”