Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
Ilsa had made an official appointment with Mr. Humphrey Treeman, officer at the Division External Revenue and Foreign Relations. She arrived absolutely on time, breezing into his office like a breath of spring. Of course she was wearing those high heels that demonstrated she meant business but just as much accentuated her slender legs. In addition to that her skirt indicated firm buttocks and a flat belly. She wasn't stupid, Mr. Treeman was a man, he would look and – this she had learned long before she had met Guerrero – no advantage, be it in existence for whatever Neanderthal instincts there could be, was to be sniffed at. She needed to lure this man into the trap she and Ames had set up, no matter what.
"First of all I'd like to express my heartfelt gratitude for making room on your surely tightly packed schedule for me on such a short notice", Ilsa began, sitting down on Treeman's visitor chair. Her heart was beating madly. In theory they had pulled this stunt a couple of times before, for example in connection with Harry's t-rex mess, but this was the first time ever she and Ames were completely on their own. No back up from Chance acting as the janitor right outside the office door, no Guerrero lurking in from the windowsill, no Winston in the van, right in front of the building. As Winston had said, it was unlikely that Treeman turned out to be dangerous, but you could never really know for sure. Chance had only agreed to the whole thing after a long and heated debate with Ames, culminating in Ames asking him if he didn't trust her.
Trust. Always a keyword with Chance.
Now, sitting eye-to-eye with the person who had cold-bloodedly ordered the hit on an elderly scholar whose only crime had been that he had tried to make the world a little better, Ilsa wondered if they should really have been that insistent.
But now it was too late. The only way out of this situation was the way right through it.
"The Marshall Pucci Foundation is one of those wonderful organizations without which the world would stop turning. Making room for you was simply a must", Mr. Treeman replied, all smiles and sickening sweetness in his voice. "Your husband was such a far-seeing, charismatic individual… I had the pleasure of meeting him once during a charity event. Unfortunately he wasn't exactly interested in moving the Foundation's headquarters from London to Wilmington. I gather you're not aiming to follow your husband's footsteps in that particular matter?"
"The State of Delaware offers some very attractive options for a legitimate organization to cut down on unnecessary administrative costs… so more money can go into the charity projects that the Marshall Pucci Foundation has made its top priority", Ilsa stated, wearing an equally false smile and just as much caries causing sweetness in her voice. She graciously crossed her legs so that her skirt rode up her thigh just enough that he could see she was wearing velvet hold up stockings.
"Be assured, Mrs. Pucci, the State of Delaware would be more than willing to assist you in expanding the invaluable work that the Foundation performs for human kind." Mr. Treeman was almost drooling as he spoke. Be it from looking at Ilsa's legs or the prospect of hauling in a major tax payer for Delaware was hard to tell. Probably both.
"I understand you're interested in leading this department in the near future?", Ilsa asked innocently.
"There have been talks about me possibly succeeding our current department head, Mrs. Francis, but nothing is definitive yet and I have to say, even though of course I am human and the position is attractive, I'm a proud servant of the State of Delaware in any position."
"Of course", Ilsa agreed with him. "But the Marshall Pucci Foundation and me, specifically, would be willing to support you, should you ever have the feeling that you expertise could be put to better use in a more advanced field…"
Treeman swallowed the bait hook, line and sinker.
"If there is anything in particular that I can do for you, Mrs. Pucci…"
"I'm not really sure I've come to the right place." Ilsa paused long enough to start him worrying she might have actually changed her mind. "See, I've been told over and over again what a great place for businesses is… but my sources tell me that this is about to change. There's a group named IOFGTE… it has come to my attention that they're aiming to publish how to introduce a new worldwide taxation system. Many politicians have indicated that they're willing to listen to them. This would affect Delaware's policy regarding taxes, too, wouldn't it?"
Mr. Treeman was so quick in trying to ease Ilsa's worries, he almost stumbled over his own words: "Not to worry, Mrs. Pucci. According to my sources the figurehead of that really minor organization, a Professor Nikos Alexiou unfortunately passed away only a few days ago. Without him as their renowned ambassador, the organization will hardly get any attention at all."
"From what I have been told his successor, a Pete Harmill, is very determined to carry on the professor's work…" Inwardly Ilsa held her breath. This was THE decisive moment. Would Treeman fall for it?
"Mrs. Pucci, why don't you let me gather a bit more information about that Mr. Harmill? At the moment I feel rather ill-informed to give you competent advice in that matter. But why don't we meet again tomorrow morning, same time? Who knows, maybe the issue will have already sorted itself out then." Again that sickening smile.
Ames, via earpiece, let out a triumphant YES!
"Not so fast", Ilsa mumbled as she exited Treeman's office. "That's only half the battle…"
"Sorted itself out – how else do you want to interpret it, if not that he's putting out another hit?" Ames did a little victory dance in the small room they rented in the motel opposite from the Revenue Division's building. The equipment had worked perfectly. She had been able to listen to everything and, of course, also tape everything.
Her celebration turned out not to have been premature.
Half an hour later the assassin who was still in Chance's and Winston's custody, received a telephone call from Delaware.
Of course they taped that one, too.
… … …
"Brax told Walter to kill the boy. I swear it's the truth! I SWEAR! He specifically wanted the boy dead! I don't know why – Brax didn't explain. I wasn't part of the original plan. He seems to have decided that spontaneously. That's all I know. REALLY. Ohgodohgodohgod, please don't kill me! Don't! I've told you everything I know. Brax wanted that kid dead. Now, please, just let me go, I won't tell anyone…"
Guerrero cut the third bank robber's plea short with a quick shot to the back of his head.
As he disposed of the body with the help of quite a bit of acid and an adult-sized plastic tub, he had lots to think about.
The way he understood all this so far was that originally Brax had simply wanted to rob that bank to demonstrate to the mayor and his minions that he could without getting caught. Then, for reasons yet unknown, he had suddenly decided not only to underline his argumentation with the killing of one of the hostages, but by SPECIFICALLY killing Ash.
Why Brax sudden interest in Ash?
Guerrero somehow had the feeling he wouldn't like the answer.