He would do it.
"Please, just give me a minute. The pilot is hurt. I need to help-"
"How kind you are. But he really doesn't deserve it. All Borg had to do was offer him enough money, and he gave him your flight plan."
She still held back. "Just let me stop his bleeding."
"You're wasting time. You want the bleeding stopped?" He sprayed a barrage of bullets into the wounded pilot. "It will stop soon. Now do you want me to aim at Dardon's gas tank and blow his car up?"
She couldn't take her gaze from the torn and bloody remains of the pilot. "No, I'll come." Her legs were working now, but she was still dazed. Just get him away from Dardon. Just stop the killing.
"Borg thought you wouldn't cause me any trouble, but the idiot almost blew you up. I wouldn't have liked that one bit. He should know how to set the proper charge by now." He smiled. "But here you are, and here I am. Won't that be fun?"
"EMILY." GARRETT WAS S T A N D I N G at her open bedroom door.
She scrambled up in bed. "Did you finish the translation?"
"No." He paused. "I just got a call from Dardon."
She tensed. Something was wrong. "Irana. Did something happen to her plane?"
"Oh, yes, something happened to it." He lifted his hand. "She's alive. She may not even be hurt. Dardon couldn't tell."
"What do you mean he couldn't tell? A plane crash is-"
"It wasn't a plane crash. Dardon had just pulled up to the hangar after Irana's plane came in. She was coming down the steps when the plane blew up. "
"What?"
"An explosion," he said. "An explosion timed to go off a few min¬utes after the stairs were lowered. At least that's what Dardon's think¬ing right now."
"Staunton," she whispered.
"He didn't set it. But he was there to shoot the pilot and pick Irana up and take her away after the explosion."
"Staunton has Irana?" She couldn't take it in. It was her worst nightmare. "You're sure?"
"Dardon saw him pulling her toward a car on the other side of the plane."
"Then, dammit, why didn't he stop him."
"His car was damaged by the blast, the doors were sealed. He couldn't get the door open until it was too late. The pilot was dead. Staunton was gone."
"And he's got Irana," she said dully. "We'll get her back."
"How?" She turned on him, and asked fiercely, "How are we going to do that, Garrett? What are we supposed to do now? He took her away as if we were helpless children."
"Do you think I don't know that?" His voice was hoarse. "I'm the one who promised her I'd keep her safe if she came here. I didn't do it. That son of a bitch-" He broke off and turned away. "Get dressed. Dardon should be back here anytime now."
"How, Garrett?"
"We find out where he is and go after him. Dardon got the license-plate number and the make of his car."
"That's not enough information. Russia is a huge country."
"But Staunton will stay fairly close."
"Why?"
He looked back over his shoulder. "You, Emily." She nodded as she saw where he was going. "He doesn't really want Irana. He wants me."
"That's my guess. He'll try for a trade." "Thank God."
"Which we're not going to give him. We have to find him before that-"
"Don't tell me what we're going to do." Her fists were clenched at her sides. "Do you know what he'll do to her? I do. I've seen it. You don't understand. He doesn't care. He likes it. I'm not going to let him hurt Irana. He wants me? He'll get me. Just find a way that I can keep a weapon to kill him."
"It may not come to that. Not if we can find a way to locate him before-"
"It will come down to that. I've always known that it might." She grabbed her clothes and headed for the bathroom. "So find Staunton if you can, but it doesn't really matter. One way or the other, we're going to get Irana away from him."
GARRETT MET DARDON AS HE drove up to the farmhouse thirty minutes later. The front bumper of his car was twisted, the paint blis¬tered in places, and the glass in four of the windows was broken.
"God, I'm sorry, Garrett." He opened the car door with difficulty and got out. "I tried to-I managed to get the door open but then I- Hell, I was afraid he'd kill her like he did that pilot."
"I wasn't there. I can't judge," Garrett said. "I know you like Irana. You would have done everything you could."
"How is Emily taking it?"
"How do you think? I have to find that bastard before she puts her head on the chopping block." "How?"
"That's what she asked." His lips twisted. "The big question. But I'll find the answer." He had to find it. First Karif, and now Irana. Staunton had taken too much from him. He couldn't let Irana die as Karif had died. He looked down the road. "In fact, the answer may be coming toward me right now."
Dardon's gaze followed Garrett's to the approaching car. "Pauley?"
"Pauley."
They watched as Pauley drove into the farmyard and parked the BMW next to the car Dardon had just gotten out of. He stuck his head out the window and gave a low whistle as his gaze wandered over the scorched and shattered body of the Mercedes. "Garrett, I have to talk with you about taking better care of your automobiles. That Mercedes was a fine car. As you can see, I'm delivering this car back to you in tip¬top shape."
"Did you put Babin on the plane?" Garrett asked.
Pauley nodded. "And I waited until the plane took off. But I think he would have left anyway. He was very nervous. You're very good at intimidation, Garrett. Can I learn that, or is it a natural gift?"
"You wouldn't want to put in the time involved to develop it. Stick to your own talents."
"But I want to expand my horizons. You opened a whole new world to me last night."
"You want to expand your horizons? Then hit the computer. I have a problem that should give you enough of a challenge to satisfy you."
"That's not the challenge I-" He stopped, studying Garrett's ex¬pression. "You're pretty grim. Something's not so good."
"How perceptive," Garrett said. "Something's pretty damn lousy."
"And you want me to be Superman and set the world right for you," Pauley said. "Would you like to tell me how?"
"We have the make and model of a car. We even have the license-plate number. We just don't know exactly where it is."
"Call the Russian version of the highway patrol?"
"No."
"I was afraid that was going to be your answer. What am I sup¬posed to do?"
"Hijack one of the military satellites that we still have focused on Russia and zoom into the area and locate that car." "Hell, no."
Garrett ignored him. "And it has to be quick and not detectable. We can't have a SEAL team parachuting down and trying to take us out." "Impossible." "Not for Superman."
"If I got caught, I'd not only be thrown into prison for the rest of my life, but I'd probably have to do slave labor at my computer for the government. That's a fate worse than death."
"Can you do it?"
He didn't speak for a moment, then said reluctantly, "Yes, there are a few satellites that were sent up in the eighties that didn't have so¬phisticated security apparatus. I've played around with them a little. But I won't do it."
"Name your price. You want to retire anc
ne
problem."
Pauley shook his head. "It's too hot, Garrett."
"Please, Pauley." Emily was standing in the doorwi. Irana, will be hurt," she said unevenly. "We have to find
Pauley gazed at her in frustration. "I don't want to d It's going to be difficult as hell and not worth-
"He'll hurt her, Pauley."
And Emily was hurting right now, Garrett thought. She looke most as pale and fragile as she had the night that Garrett had taken away from Staunton. He desperately wanted to reach out, help her, comfort her.
Evidently Pauley was having the same reaction.
"Oh, shit." He got out of the car. "G
ive me the information you have, Garrett. How much time do I have?"
"As little as you can get by with. Emily's right, it's a nasty situation."
"Life or death? I don't like that kind of responsibility." He headed for the door. "It won't be hard finding a satellite that can do the job but I have to get in and get out fast. Do we have any general idea where the car is located?"
Garrett shook his head. "Maybe a hundred miles in any direction from Moscow." "Great."
"Thank you, Pauley," Emily said.
"Thank me when I find the damn car." Pauley added gloomily, "Or when they tote me away to Leavenworth." He disappeared into the house.
"Will he be able to do it?" Emily asked Garrett.
"Yes."
"Will it be in time?"
"Maybe. I won't lie to you. It's going to be hard." He turned to Dardon. "Go in and give him a description of that car down to the size of the hubcaps."
Dardon nodded. "Hell, I'll even make his coffee for him."
Emily sat down on the doorstep and linked her arms around her knees. Garrett could see the tension that locked every muscle of her upper body. Again, he felt that urge to do anything he could to com¬fort her. But she wouldn't accept comfort. Not now, not from him. The only comfort he could offer either one of them would be to get Irana away from that bastard.
"I'll let you know as soon as Pauley makes some progress."
She nodded jerkily. "Please. I won't go inside. I don't want to dis¬turb him."
"You won't disturb him."
"I can't take the chance."
"Then I'll bring you a jacket. It's chilly."
"I'm not cold. I'll just wait here."
Wait. It wasn't only results from Pauley for which she was waiting, he knew. She was waiting for a call from Staunton.
He hoped to God Pauley came through before Staunton did.
"YOU'RE BEING VERY INTELLIGENT, Sister Irana," Staunton said as he pushed Irana into the small room at the very end of the ware¬house. "I always appreciate a guest who causes me so little trouble."
"I'm not a sister," Irana said. "I gave up the right to be called that a long time ago." She gazed down at the ropes binding her wrists. "And I'd be foolish to try to escape unless I had a chance to be successful."
"That's right, you would." He smiled. "But I expected… fear. Emily was afraid. She fought it like a tiger, but the fear was there."
"It's more courageous to fight if you're afraid. Emily is very brave."
His smile faded. "But not you. You're helpless, but I don't see-I don't believe I like you, Sister Irana."
She gazed at him steadily. "I can see that you don't. It doesn't dis¬turb me."
"I believe it would take a good deal to disturb you," he said softly. "What a challenge."
"Why would you want to bother? I'm not important to you. This isn't about me, is it? It's about Emily."
"But I don't want to cheat you of your share of attention. After all, you're the woman who is going to give me what I want."
"Why don't you leave Emily alone? She doesn't know anything. She would have told me if she did."
"Not necessarily. Maybe she doesn't like religious do-gooders any more than I do, Sister Irana."
She gazed at him without expression.
"No answer. No defense?"
"No, I was just wondering why you're prejudiced against people of faith. Did one of us hurt you?"
"They couldn't hurt me. I have nothing to do with any of you." I see.
"You don't see anything." He muttered a curse and reached for his phone. "I'm the one who does the hurting. I'm the one who gives the commands."
She tensed. "You're calling Emily?"
"Oh, that stirred you." He smiled maliciously. "Not yet. I want her to worry a little longer. Anticipation." He dialed. "No, I'm calling my old friend, Borg. It was Borg who arranged for your delivery here to me. He was planning on taking you in Morocco, but when he heard your call from Garrett, he had to adjust to the situation. He hurried out to the airport ahead of you and set the charge in the plane, then had a chat with your pilot. But it all worked out, didn't it?"
"Are you calling to congratulate him?"
"No, it's come to my attention that there has to be a change of agenda. I'll use Borg to accomplish it." He spoke into the phone. "Yes, everything is going splendidly here, Borg. Just checking to see if you're in Paris yet. That's good. Yes, go ahead with it. I look forward to hearing from you." He hung up and looked at Irana. "You see, I'm the one in control. I pull the strings. I give the orders. If I'd ordered Borg to kill you in Morocco, he would have done it. I own him." "Poor man. He must be truly tormented."
Staunton's lips tightened. "And you're a stupid bitch. You can't see anything but what you want to see." He drew a deep breath, then smiled brilliantly. "But there are ways to open your eyes. I look for¬ward to showing them all to you, Sister Irana."
"MY GOD," GARRETT WHISPERED, his gaze on Pauley's com¬puter monitor. The screen was filled with figures, equations that were constantly changing as Pauley's fingers were flying over the keys. "Is he as close as I think he is?" he murmured to Dardon. "It's only been six or seven hours."
"You told him to hurry," Dardon said. "He said he'd be quicker, but he has to build walls as he goes to keep anyone on another com¬puter from seeing what he's doing. He should be able to zoom in any minute."
"It can't come too soon. Firepower? Did you have any problem getting the heavy stuff we may need?"
"In Moscow? There are black-market munitions dealers all over the place. I picked it up a couple hours ago."
"Good." Garrett leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms across his chest, his gaze on that constantly changing computer moni¬tor. "Let it rip, Pauley…"
SIXTEEN
"GET UP." GARRETT LIFTED Emily to her feet. "You're stiff as a board. I told you to come in out of the cold."
"Pauley? It seems like it's been a long time." She was stiff, she real¬ized. She had been sitting huddled here for hours.
"For what he was doing it was only the blink of an eye. I'll believe him from now on when he says he's Superman." He was leading her into the house. "Come on. I want you to see this before Pauley has to release that satellite."
Pauley looked up impatiently. "This isn't show-and-tell, Garrett. I can't keep this up indefinitely. One minute."
"Be quiet. She needs this." He pushed Emily forward and put his hands on her shoulders. "Look at the monitor."
There wasn't much to see. A flat aerial view of buildings and the surrounding fields.
"Zoom, Pauley," Garrett said.
The view narrowed as it plunged toward the earth.
To a dark blue Volvo parked beside the loading ramp of one of the buildings.
"Same license number, same description," Garrett said. "We've got him, Emily."
The relief was so intense it almost made her dizzy. "Do we know where that is?"
"A warehouse in the town of Sakvar, about sixty miles northeast." "What if he abandoned the car?"
"It's possible. But the Volvo is parked off the road and hidden by the building. It appears more likely that Staunton is still using it."
"That's it. You've got what you need. I'm getting out." Pauley's fingers were flying across the keyboard. "And hope like hell I didn't leave any trace of evidence behind."
Emily turned to Garrett. "You have an address. Then we can go after her?"
He nodded. "Very carefully. If Staunton is with her, there's a good chance he'd kill her if he thought he had a chance of losing her to us."
She whirled and headed for the door. "We'll be careful. We just have to get her away from him quickly. Dear God, I wasn't sure that Pauley would be able to do it."
"I told you I could," Pauley said. "And followed through with my usual brilliant efficiency."
She smiled exuberantly at him over her shoulder. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, Pauley."
He returned her smile. "Since it looks like I was able
to do this without endangering my life and liberty, I'll say that you're welcome."
"Emily, don't be too excited," Garrett said. "We've only located Irana. We haven't freed her."
Emily's smile faded. "She's alive, Garrett. I know it. He wouldn't kill her if he could use her. All we have to do is go get her." She was sounding simplistic. "Okay, it's not that easy, but we have hope now."
"Yes, we have hope." He headed for the door. "And we'll do like Pauley and follow through with brilliant efficiency. Let's go and see what-"
Garrett broke off as Emily's cell phone rang.
She went rigid as she reached in the pocket of her jacket.
It had to be Staunton. It had to be the call she had been waiting for most of the day.
And Garrett knew it, too. She could tell by his alert, watchful ex¬pression.
She punched the button and turned up the volume. She took a deep breath. "It took you long enough, Staunton. I was expecting to hear from you much earlier."
"I was busy. And I wanted to give you time to think about all the possibilities."
"I've thought about them. Is Irana still alive?"
"Yes, do you want to talk to her?"
"Of course, I do."
Staunton was gone from the phone for a moment, then returned. "The bitch won't talk to you. I think she wants you to think that I've killed her, and there's no reason to bargain." His tone had an edge. "I'm finding her very annoying. I can't wait to get rid of her and take you instead."
Her hand tightened on the phone. "Just don't hurt her."
"That's entirely up to you. I don't think you believe that I'd kill her until you and I could get together."
"No, you wouldn't do that. Tell me your terms."
"There's a deserted red-roofed silo about forty miles from Moscow, off of M-10. You'll meet me there, alone, and I'll take you to sweet Sister Irana. I have a pair of very powerful infrared binoculars. I'll be able to view the surrounding countryside for miles from that silo. If I see any signs of Garrett or any of his friends, then I'll phone and tell the man guarding her to dispose of the bitch."
"No, you bring her with you. You release her, and we watch her drive away."
"You're being demanding. I'm in control here, Emily."
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