Eve - Iris Johansen [63]
“And where are we going?”
“You tell me. Can you locate Nate Queen?”
“He should be back in his office at INSCOM Fort Belvoir, Virginia, by now. But he also has a condo in Alexandria. Should I call him?”
“No, we’re going to pay him a visit. There’s too much wiggle room on the phone. He’s going to talk. I’ll know everything he knows about John Gallo within an hour after I have him. I’m going to pin him down so tight he won’t be able to breathe. As a matter of fact, that’s an even better idea.” His tone was savage. “Gallo thinks he owns Nate Queen? He just yielded possession. I’m the one who’s going to own Queen from now on.”
San Francisco International Airport
The gate area was crowded, and Paul Black was barely able to get a seat at Gate 2.
He would rather have been at Gate 1. From where he was sitting, he could see a little girl of seven or eight standing next to a flight attendant. She was a pretty, brown-haired little girl, her hair pulled back in a blue ribbon. Her face was eager, her eyes shining.
A first flight?
She was probably one of the thousands of unaccompanied minors who flew every month entrusted to the airlines flight attendants. The flight attendant seemed to be in her early twenties and was chatting with the man next to her.
While the little girl was going toward the doughnut stand in the center of the gate area.
It would not be easy, but it would be possible, he thought.
Train stations, bus stations, airports were all prime areas to make contact. Airports were a little harder, but that only made it more interesting. He usually preferred bus stations in European and Asian countries, but he couldn’t be choosy at the moment. He hadn’t had a kill in over a week.
The little girl had her doughnut and was coming back toward the flight attendant.
The woman barely glanced at the little girl when she sat down next to her.
Maybe it would be easier than he thought.
The mind-set of the people at travel centers was always different. Sometimes the travelers were nervous, excited, unhappy, but there was always a chance that their altered perception would lead them more easily to do things they wouldn’t ordinarily do.
He had read once that Andrei Chikatilo, the Soviet serial killer who had been convicted of killing at least fifty-three women and children, had made a habit of contacting his prey at train stations. It was a wonder the fool had not been caught before. Personally, Black preferred to be unpredictable. It was the only safe method and, combined with his clever acquisition of Queen as a protector, it had worked wonderfully well for him. He had stopped counting at sixty-two kills and, though he had occasionally skirted capture, he had never been really in danger.
Paul Black glanced up at the clock. He had forty minutes before he boarded the flight. Time to spend them doing something he’d enjoy. He took out his cell and dialed Nate Queen.
“I’m coming after you, Queen,” he said softly. “I just thought I’d let you anticipate a little.”
“Black?” Queen’s voice was hoarse. “What are you talking about? Why? Haven’t I protected you? Let’s talk.”
The bastard was scared shitless, Black thought. Good. Fear was power. It was as heady as straight vodka. “I don’t like to talk. That’s what’s made our relationship work so well. You give me an assignment, and I do it. I give you a bill, and you pay it.” He paused. “Benkman didn’t like to talk, either. He just wanted to kill me and walk away. You shouldn’t have sent him, Queen.”
“Why would I want to kill you? You’re valuable to me.”
“I think you’re playing both ends against the middle. You don’t care how faithful an employee I’ve been over the years.” His voice was mocking. “No gold watch. Just a bomb under the terrace. So I must have been more valuable to you dead than alive.”
“It wasn’t me.” Queen’s voice was panicky. “Maybe Gallo did it on his own. He doesn’t tell me everything.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll get to you both.”
“Look, we can work this out. You need me as much as I need you. They would have