No Fortunate Son (Pike Logan, #7)(109)

Jennifer hoisted her knapsack and said, “Pike, we can talk on the plane.”

“I’m not sure we should get on the plane.”

“What’s on the pendant?”

I remained silent.

She said, “Tell me.”

“Let us do evil that good may come.”

“You can’t give her that pendant back without fulfilling its prophecy. I’m ready.”

I said nothing, sizing up whether she was playing me.

She said, “Pike, I want her back as much as you. I’m willing to do what’s necessary.”

I realized she wasn’t manipulating me. That she meant it from the core of her being. I reached down and grabbed my bag without looking at her.

Blaine nodded at her, a silent thanks, and I said, “Sir, don’t go patting her on the back just yet. You have no idea what evil I’m about to do.”






77




Seamus parked his car in an alley on Edgware Road and rubbed his eyes. Dawn had long since passed, and he hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours. He glanced at Kevin in the backseat, sound asleep. He slapped the man’s thigh, jerking him awake.

“We’re here. I’m going up. You stay with the hostage. He should be waking up soon. Take a bottle of water and give it to him, but do not untie his hands, no matter what he says. He’s a fighter.”

Groggy, Kevin said, “I couldn’t fight my way out of a wet paper bag right now. I can’t imagine riding in the trunk, blindfolded and drugged, makes him a greater threat.”

“Don’t do it. Give him water, but do not release him.”

Kevin took a pull on his own bottle, saying, “Yeah, I got it. You sure about barging in like this? We should have gone to the hotel I found.”

“I called them after the ferry landed in Glasgow. They’re expecting me.”

“I meant about showing our hand. How we only have one. These guys aren’t exactly known for their humanitarian streak.”

“Nothing else I could do. It’s just you and me now. The hotel was a risk, and they offered shelter. At least until their strike is done.”

“How long should I wait? I mean, if this goes bad? What should I do?”

“You don’t hear from me in thirty minutes, get out. Go wherever you want. I’ll be dead, so it’s irrelevant.”

Shocked at his words, Kevin said, “Wait, I don’t know what to do with him. Where to go. You think this meeting could turn that bad?”

“No, I don’t. They want the hostages and will settle for one. As far as I know, their attack is set to go in a few hours whether we give them anything or not.”

He opened the door, and Kevin pulled his sleeve.

“What?”

“Don’t leave me down here. Let me come up with you. You can use the help.”

Seamus considered, knowing it would be better to have two instead of one. Ali Hassan was a spindly man, but, as the Americans were fond of saying, Sam Colt made an equalizer of anyone.

He said, “Okay. Check the hostage. I’ll watch from the end of the alley. We’ll go up together, but you need to be armed. Take a pistol.”

Kevin nodded, satisfied, like a puppy being scratched behind the ears. He exited the vehicle with a bottle of water, and Seamus walked to the entrance of the alley, surveying the street.

A half a minute later, Kevin approached, telling him the hostage was still out. Seamus said, “Let’s go see our patrons.”

They entered the front of the apartment complex, walking down a hallway past some front stores to a suite of mailboxes and an elevator. Seamus decided to forgo the easy route and took the stairs, going up three flights and passing several immigrants from Middle Eastern countries. All looked at them in curiosity.

He reached the third floor and exited, moving down a narrow hallway with a threadbare carpet running its length. He paused outside number 318, smelling the mold and decay. He put his ear to the door. He heard nothing.

He knocked, Kevin right behind him. No one came. He knocked again, and the door was jerked open by a large black man he didn’t recognize, sweating profusely. A sweat that Seamus recognized as fear.

“Yes?”

“I’m here for Ali Hassan.”

The man looked into the interior of the apartment, then opened the door. Seamus entered, followed by Kevin, and saw Hassan in the den, a gun in his hand. Aimed at Seamus’s head.

He said, “Hey, hey, no need for that.”

Hassan said, “There was no need for you to come here. In fact, no way you should have known where I am. You call, demanding a meeting, then tell me it’s here. How did you know where to find us? Who else have you told?”

“The Frog gave me the address. Really, he’s on both our sides. There was no reason to keep it secret. I’ve told no one.”

“The Frog never gave me your address. In fact, he never gave me your name. Get on your knees, and forgive me if I don’t trust you.”

Seamus did so, placing his hands behind his head and saying, “I have the payment.”

Hassan stood and said, “Where? All I hear is promises, and all I see is Irish scum.”

“We have him down in the car. In the trunk. Look, we’ll pass him to you, but you need to put out a statement soon, using him. I mean real soon, like in the next few hours.”