“This is the Patio de Banderas,” Logan said a monotone. “We’re inside the Royal Alcazar wall. And the tower there is the Giralda. It was built by the Moors as a minaret but when the Christians took over, they put a bell in it and used it for the cathedral.”
Sahara caught his arm and turned him around to face her. “If you asked Angel,” she told him, “she’d give up the fancy school, the clothes, the scholarships and live in a trailer if you asked her to. She’d do it in a heartbeat, as long as you were with her. She wouldn’t care what you were doing.”
“How could you possibly know that?” he demanded. “You’ve known her a grand total of four hours, tops.”
“I know, Logan. I know. When my mother died, my father was making enough money from competitions that he could have put me into a school like that too. Or kept me at home with a nanny. But he didn’t. He took me with him on his competition tours. We ate crappy food and lived in bad hotels and traveled the cheapest way we could figure out and I learned more about life and people in those four years than I ever learned in school for the next four. I was with him and they were the happiest years of my life.”
He was simply staring at her.
“Don’t you understand, Logan? About this, I am an expert.”
A gnat buzzed past her ear and she waved it away impatiently. Abruptly, Logan dived at her, his shoulder slamming into her abdomen, his arm slapping around her waist. As he brought her down in the rugby tackle, she felt a sting across her hip. Then they landed heavily on the hot stone walkway and were rolling over and over.
When they skidded to a painful halt, Logan flipped her over so that he lay over the top of her. He thrust his arm out, aiming for the walls at the far end of the square. His gun was already in his hand and he fired off two shots.
The square erupted with panicked screams and shouting, as everyone tried to escape the danger and a policeman’s whistle started blowing.
The gnat and the stinging on her hip. Someone had been firing at them.
Logan pushed himself to his feet and pulled her up. “Did he get you?”
“What? No….”
He tugged her hand. “You have to come with me. I can’t leave you here. I hit him with my second shot and we can catch him if we hurry.”
“Who?”
“Adar.”
Chapter Twenty
Logan led her deeper into the Santa Cruz quarter, through narrow little lanes, across courtyards, until they stepped out into a larger street. There was a cracking sound and the stucco on the wall by Sahara’s head exploded outward in a little shower of plaster and pebbles.
Logan pushed her back into the alley they’d emerged from and hugged the corner. She rested against the wall beside him.
“We’ve caught up with him,” Logan said, peering around the corner.
“Do you have a knife?”
“Right pants pocket.”
She reached into his pocket and felt a warm, elongated shape and withdrew it. A switchblade. She triggered the blade, then reached down to her shoes. “Ow! Jesus Christ!” She jerked upright again, as white fire scored across the top of her left hip. She grabbed at it and looked down. There was a big patch of blood soaking into her clothes. “Ohmigod, he did shoot me!”
Logan whirled and crouched down to examine her. He peeled the top away carefully. “It’s a flesh wound,” he said. “The bullet grazed across your hip and scratched the skin.”
“He was shooting at me?”
“Yes.”
“But you said—”
“I know.” Logan took the knife from her hand, folded it and put it back in his pocket.
“I wanted to cut off my shoes. I can’t run in them.”
“You don’t need to run,” he said softly. “I’m getting you out of here." He pulled out a cell phone, pressed a single button and listened. “I brought her out of the square,” he said, after a moment. “Where are you? Come to me. She’s injured. I have to get her out.” He put the phone away and leaned back against the wall beside her.
She noticed blood splatters on the concrete ahead of them. “He’s bleeding.”
“A lot,” Logan said briefly. He straightened up quickly, turning to face the street just ahead of them. Nelson, in basketball shorts, sleeveless tee shirt and runners and big wraparound sunglasses, turned into the alleyway. He brought his hand out from behind his back when he saw them and the tee shirt settled back down around his hips.
There was a rattle of iron above them and Celia dropped to the ground, landing in a crouch. She straightened up and dusted off her hands, walking toward them.
“How did you know where we are?” Sahara asked.
“Logan has a GPS tracker in his cell phone,” Nelson said.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to be using electronics?”
Celia crouched next to Sahara, checking her wound. “All bets are off, now, ain’t they?” She stood again and looked at Logan. “Want me to get ’er back?”
Logan hesitated and Sahara thought she knew what his dilemma was. “It’s okay,” she said. “Go after Adar. I’ll go back with Celia.”
Nelson was leaning over, studying the blood splatters. “Lot of blood here,” he said thoughtfully. “As good as highway signs.”
Logan swore under his breath. “You two are going to have to go after Adar. You know what you have to do when you catch up with him, right?”
Nelson glanced at Celia, who nodded.
“Something’s happened in the last couple of hours that has reset the board, that lets Zaram think he can take Sahara out of the picture.” Logan leaned down and pushed his gun back into the ankle holster. “I have to find out what it is and I can only do that back at the hotel.”
“Want an escort ’til you get to a cab?” Celia asked.
“No.” Logan’s expression was stony. “He won’t catch me off-guard again.”
* * * * *
Sahara was relieved when they reached the cool foyer of the hotel with its arches rich in detail and color. But Logan slowed down, looking around the huge open space, checking faces.
He grabbed her arm, pulling her closer to him. “There’s trouble,” he murmured. “Keep going. Up to the suite. Don’t stop.”
“What sort of trouble?” He was pulling her along, keeping her moving despite the fright that tried to bring her feet to a halt. “What’s happening? How do you know there’s trouble?”
“Too many of our people on duty in the lobby. Elias has the place on high alert.”
She had seen no one other than what looked like hotel guests and tourists.
“Use the stairs,” Logan told her, as she turned toward the corridor where the elevators were tucked away. “The elevators are too much of a trap.”
They climbed the wide staircase with Logan at the banister, where he could look down upon the flights beneath them, then hurried along the corridor to the suite.
The main room inside the suite was boiling with people and activity. The big office that opened up off the room had both sets of doors flung open. That was where the team’s communications equipment was set up. There, the activity was heaviest.
Logan released Sahara’s arm and made his way to the office. Sahara followed him, her heart thudding heavily.
Logan beckoned Jacqui over and pointed to Sahara. “Can you take care of her wound? It’s minor but it needs cleaning and coagulant.”
Jacqui took in the large bloodstain on Sahara’s clothes and held out her hand. “Come, I can take care of that.”
She shook her head. “I need to stay here. I need to hear this.”
Jacqui looked like she was going to protest.
“He was shooting at me. At Micky. I’m a target. I have to know what’s changed.”
Jacqui nodded. “I’ll bring the kit over.” She walked away quickly.
Elias put down the headset he was wearing as Logan approached, looking relieved. “You’re back. Good. There has been a…development.” His tone with heavy with irony
.
“Tell me,” Logan said flatly.
“Seoc escaped.”
Logan’s brows drew together. “How the hell did that happen?” he demanded. “That guy couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag, even if he had an Uzi and instructions. Who the hell managed to screw up enough to let him take a walk?”
Elias lifted up his hand, trying to dam back Logan’s fury with a wave-off gesture. “I’ve ripped the necessary heads off already, Logan. Don’t try to do the same to me. I’m the messenger here.”
Sahara watched Logan swallow his fury. It was the most fascinating and terrible thing she had ever seen. The intense passions Logan was capable of displaying must surely do irreparable internal damage when they were locked up inside that way.
Finally, he nodded at Elias. “How long ago?” he asked, his voice flat.
“About eighty minutes ago. They think.”
“They think,” Logan uttered and shook his head.
“It took a few minutes before they noticed he’d given them the slip.”
“Jesus wept.” Logan leaned against the bench and hung his head, as if he couldn’t believe the ineptitude.
“Christ, Logan, take a pill,” Elias said. “Accidents happen. Coincidences turn sour and give the opposition advantages that work against us. You know this as well as I do. We call them lucky breaks when they work for us but we use them anyway. Well this one didn’t break for us this time.”
“Yeah but this time it’s not one of us who gets to lose his head over it.” Logan’s fury was back; a huge, palpable aura around him. “Sure, we can shrug it off as the price of doing business when it happens to us but it’s not just us this time. This time, it’s the civilian you insisted on roping in on it.”
“I’ve beefed up security—”
“Jesus Christ, Elias, it’s Sahara’s life on the line!”
At Logan’s shout, both rooms became still and silent. Everyone stared at Logan.
Sahara rested her hand on his arm. “Logan, there’s been risks all along. I knew that and still agreed to do this. Well, now they’re just a bit higher, that’s all.”
“Just a bit higher?” He turned on her and she saw for herself how truly angry he was. This time, he could not contain it. It was too strong. “You have no idea what this means.”
“Sure I do. Seoc escaped. That means he’s free to communicate with Zaram. But you’ve already figured out that Zaram knows everything that Seoc could tell him, anyway.”
Logan held up his hand. “It’s not Seoc. That’s just a coincidence. Something else has happened. Zaram wouldn’t try to take Micky out of the picture unless he had another way of getting the notebook. But he doesn’t have it yet, or he wouldn’t have tried to kill her in the square.”
“If he has another way of getting the notebook, why try to kill me at all?” Sahara asked. “It’s unnecessary.”
“If you’re dead, we can’t get the notebook,” Elias said. One of his team tapped on his shoulder and handed him an open cell phone, which he took, turning around to speak in some privacy.
Jacqui walked up to Logan and held out a sheet of paper to him. There was a heavy leather case in her other hand. “Malik just sent his instructions to Micky’s old Hotmail account.”
“That’s not the communication channel we prearranged with him,” Logan said sharply.
“I think he’s being cautious,” Jacqui replied, as she hefted the leather bag onto the table in front of her and opened it. “Who else but the real Micky, or those closest to her, would be scanning her email account?” She pulled first aid supplies from the bag, laying them on the table.
Logan read the sheet. “He’s a canny little scientist, isn’t he?” he said aloud. He glanced at his watch.
Jacqui gently pushed Sahara’s top up and began to clean the wound.
“Adar is dead,” Elias said, handing back the cell phone. “Celia couldn’t stop him in time.”
“Suicide?” Logan asked.
“Yeah. Shot himself through the chin. He didn’t talk. What’s that?” He tapped the sheet.
“Malik’s itinerary. A long one.”
“Let’s wait for Celia and Nelson,” Elias declared. “They’ll be back inside ten minutes. The local police are handling the clean-up and I want Celia and Nelson to hear this. Jacqui, can you print off copies for everyone? Logan, finish doctoring Sahara.” He looked around the room. “This is a need to know operation now, folks. Essential staff only. Everyone else, take twenty.”
Logan tapped his watch. “We’ve got maybe fifty minutes before we have to start on Malik’s itinerary.”
“We’ll be ready,” Elias said grimly. He glanced around the room, as it steadily cleared of people.
A cold hand clutched Sahara’s heart. “What’s happened, Elias? What haven’t you told us?”
“Jacqui, shut the door on your way out,” Elias called.
Jacqui closed the big double doors without comment and apart from three men at the end of the room, who were wearing headsets and working on terminals, Sahara and Logan were alone with Elias.
“Tell me,” Logan said flatly.
“Josephine Gold contacted headquarters early this morning. There was a break-in at the school last night.”
Angel. Sahara bit her lip to stop herself from demanding to know what had happened.
Logan stood motionless. “They took Angel.” His tone was flat.
“The Bristol plainclothes branch says the evidence is not conclusive. It’s possible she was taken. It’s also possible she caught wind of what was going on and took off herself.”
Logan’s throat was working but no words emerged. Finally, he pushed a trembling hand through his hair. “What are they doing?”
“Everything they can, Logan.” Elias’ tone was gentle.
The door behind them cracked open a few feet and Celia and Nelson slipped into the room. They glanced at Logan as they passed him and moved silently to the end, where the computers were.
“I should be there.” Logan reached out for the frame of the mobile television cart next to him and gripped it hard enough to whiten his knuckles. “But I can’t….”
Sahara could see he was beginning to hyperventilate. His chest was lifting too fast. But Elias just stood there. So she stepped around him and tugged at Logan’s hand until he released the cart. She massaged his abused fingers. “Go if you have to, Logan.”
Elias made a spluttering sound behind her.
Logan shook his head. “I can’t,” he whispered. His gaze was locked on her face. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. She’s your daughter. Celia can help me get the notebook.”
“You would still go on?” Logan’s face seemed to lose whatever color it had left. He closed his eyes. “God help me.” It emerged as an almost strangled moan.
Sahara tugged him toward a chair. “Sit,” she whispered. “Breathe.”
He barely protested as she tried to manhandle him into the chair Elias pulled out from the table for him. Seeing Logan so defenseless was agonizing. She dropped to her knees beside him but was afraid to reach for him.
“Zaram wants you to leave Seville,” Elias said. “That’s why he did this. He’s using Angel as leverage, to stop you from going after the notebook.”
“I know,” Logan croaked. He put his hands on the table, his head low. The fingers were no longer curled into fists, though.
“Every copper, every detective in the south-west of England is looking for her.”
Logan nodded.
“Angel is a very smart girl,” Jacqui said and Sahara looked up to see her standing next to the first aid kit, a sheaf of papers in her hand. “She doesn’t know this business but neither did Sahara and she has been an asset in this affair.”
Logan took a deep breath and lifted his head. “I’m going to kill the bastard,” he said. “But first, I’m going to get the notebook just to spite the fucker.” He reached out a hand toward Jacqui. The hand barely trembled now. “Give me a c
opy.”
She silently handed over a sheet. Celia and Nelson stole across the room and took copies for themselves and Elias held out his hand for one too. Everyone began to read.
Logan cupped Sahara’s chin in his hand. “You, too,” he told her. She got to her feet but he caught her hand before she moved away. He brought her face down to his and kissed her soundly.
When he released her, Sahara saw that everyone, including the men at the computers at the other end of the room, was watching them with expressions of surprise. Jacqui had a small smile on her face, which she hid when Sahara glanced at her and held a copy of the email out toward her.
Sarah took the sheet and sat at the table with the rest of them.
“You, too, Jacqui,” Logan said.
Jacqui sat down in the chair next to Sahara and began to read.
“We have to walk the first leg, all the way to the Plaza de Torros,” Logan said. “Then laps around the exhibition hall, then hail a taxi at precisely four p.m. and take it to the Alcazar, walk to the Columnas Hercules, wait there five minutes, then on for….” He counted silently. “Three other destinations, all of them crowded tourist spots.” He took a deep breath. “All of them with built-in cuts-offs designed to ditch any followers. Even our own.”
“Electronic monitoring?” Celia asked.
“Nah, he’s even got you there too,” Nelson said, with an admiring tone. “The exhibition hall at the Plaza de Torres has security at the entrances, including electronic scanning. You carry anything sending out a signal, you’ll set the alarms ringing. And those guys mean business there—they’ve had to deal with too many anti-bullfighting fanatics carrying bombs and more.”
“We can’t even use Sahara’s panic button as a locator, then,” Celia concluded.
“And you have to leave in…seventeen minutes,” Jacqui added, glancing at her watch. “He’s left you no time at all to set up anything elaborate to get around it.”
Dead Double Page 21