Blood Trust - Eric van Lustbader [160]
“How—?” She aimed the pistol at the Syrian, but she heard Liridona’s scream.
“There’s no time!” Edon shouted, turning and running down a dank back alley.
Alli sprinted after her. “Stay back!” she called. “Stay back, Edon!”
Catching up with the girl, Alli ran past her. She could see Liridona between the two men. On the run, she shot one of them in the shoulder. The other turned his handgun on her and she shot him dead. The first man grabbed his wounded shoulder, then, shaking himself like a dog coming in from the rain, ran straight at her. Liridona leaped, barreled into the back of his knees, and he stumbled down onto the filthy concrete. Liridona scooped up his handgun and, as he twisted his torso up and took a swing at her, shot him point-blank in the face.
THIRTY-THREE
“SHE’S REMARKABLE, you know.”
Annika, sitting next to Jack on the ferry from Vlorë to Brindisi, on the eastern coast of Italy, looked over to where Alli was talking animatedly with Edon and Liridona. The first thing they needed to do when they reached Italy was to go clothes shopping.
Jack was dog-tired, and he ached all over. He wondered whether he had a fever. He’d lost his antibiotics somewhere during their strange and bloody odyssey. It would be good to get home.
“Is that what you meant to say?” His voice was soft.
Annika glanced at him for a moment. “I feel … I don’t know, I feel close to her.”
“She feels the same way toward you.”
This brought the ghost of a smile to Annika’s face. “I must get back to my grandfather.”
“Surely he has people taking care of him.”
She nodded. “Very good people.”
“Then come back to D.C. with us.”
Her eyes looked inward. “Maybe,” she murmured, as if to herself, “if only for a little while.”
Now it was Jack’s turn to look at the three girls across the companionway. “I saw you talking with Liridona.”
Annika was silent for a moment. The ferry rocked slightly from side to side. The great diesel engines vibrated through the decks.
“She told me the secret that cost Arjeta her life, and almost cost her hers. Arjeta had been in the compound in Vlorë. Apparently, it wasn’t Arian Xhafa’s compound. It belonged to the Syrian.”
“The man Alli encountered at the safehouse and then again in the street.”
Annika nodded. “The Syrian had a woman with him in the compound.”
“A mistress?”
“Possibly, but from what I’ve heard about the Syrian I doubt it. No, this woman is a computer prodigy. She handles all of the Syrian’s international transactions.”
“A computer whiz.”
“A first-class hacker.”
Jack shook his head. “Okay, but why would the Syrian consider her a secret worth killing for?”
“Because,” Annika said, “her name is Caroline Carson.”
* * *
GUNN SAT in his car, smoking a cigarette. He was parked in the lot of a sleazy motel off a highway in suburban Maryland. From what he could see during the forty minutes he’d been parked, the motel was a trysting place for traveling salesmen and account executives getting their rocks off with someone else’s secretary. Every once in a while a delivery would be made to one of the rooms. When that happened Gunn got out of the car and followed the delivery boy to see if he’d been summoned to room 261.
Gunn, following John Pawnhill like a bloodhound, had seen him make his escape and was briefly impressed. He’d seen him get picked up by a man Gunn didn’t recognize. He had followed them out here to this motel with its blinking neon sign, buzzing fluorescent lights, and a soda machine that didn’t work. The sound of passing traffic was a roar as relentless as the surf.
At 10:52, a white car with the logo of a nearby Chinese restaurant pulled into the parking lot. Once again, Gunn removed himself from his car and, stretching, strode after the young man. He delivered two large paper bags to room 261. Gunn saw a glimpse of Pawnhill’s driver as he took possession of the food and handed over some money. He screwed the suppressor back onto his Glock. The delivery man went down the stairs, got into his car, and drove away.
Gunn walked up to the door of room 261 and knocked.