Kill Me if You Can - James Patterson [71]
That was our biggest challenge—collateral damage. You do your best to minimize it, but sometimes it’s unavoidable. Innocent people getting killed is part of the reality of war. As dangerous as this operation was, it was complicated by the potential for civilian casualties once the bullets started flying. And knowing how desperate Chukov was, that seemed inevitable.
I would be wearing a vest. But some weary advertising executive trudging out of the Graybar Building toward Track 17 hoping to catch the 10:14 to Larchmont wouldn’t have the benefit of Kevlar.
And neither would Katherine.
Chapter 83
WE LEFT ZACH behind to patrol the area in and around Grand Central and call us if he saw any sign of Chukov’s men arriving early and taking up positions. The rest of us took the subway back to the Fortress.
There was only one thing more intimidating than facing Chukov and his Russian triggermen. That was facing my father.
He knew what I did to earn a living. Hell, he had gotten me into the business. I think he naturally expected that I would be as good—and as lucky—as he had been.
But this time was different. Going into Grand Central to trade diamonds for my kidnapped girlfriend was a suicide mission. And the fact that I didn’t even have the diamonds made it all the more impossible.
If somebody had tried to hire me to do it, I’d have said no thanks and walked away—I don’t care how much they would have paid me. But this wasn’t about money. This was about Katherine’s life. I didn’t care if I took a bullet. I just had to save her.
I called my father. It was midday in Colorado. My mother picked up.
I spent five minutes answering all her excited questions about my trip to Paris.
“It sounds so romantic,” she said. “I wish your father would take me.”
“I’ll tell him,” I said. “Is he around?”
“He’s in his workshop with his harem,” she said, using her favorite expression for Dad’s gun collection. “I’ll buzz him on the intercom and tell him to pick up.”
I could picture my father in his shop with a gun-cleaning kit and a bottle of Hoppe’s solvent, carefully going through the same ritual he taught me, and his father taught him. “A clean gun is a mean gun,” he always said.
It’s a philosophy I had lived by. At least so far.
“Hey, boy,” Dad said, answering the phone. “How you doing?”
I told him the whole story, from the night I found the diamonds to the last phone call from Chukov—everything I hadn’t told him when I called from Milan. As usual, he listened without saying a word.
When I was done, he simply said, “Anything I can do?”
I gave him all the information he’d need to get the money out of the Dutch bank. Then I told him how to divide it. “Half gets split up evenly among Adam, Zach, Ty, and Katherine. The other half goes to you and Mom.”
He laughed.
“What’s so funny?” I said.
“I’ll never see a penny of that money,” he said.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because if anything happens to you, your mom will kill me faster’n look at me,” he said. “So listen up, and listen good, boy. You’re gonna get through this. You’re gonna get through this because you know that not only is your life and Katherine’s life on the line, but so’s your old man’s. Ooooo-rah.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I love you, Dad.”
“Love you, too, boy.”
Chapter 84
AT 5:30 ZACH called in. This was it.
“Two guys showed up fifteen minutes ago. Early twenties, dark suits, dark turtlenecks, gold jewelry, Russian accents. They scoped out the drop zone.”
“They’re probably trying to figure out choke points,” I said.
“Choke points would require some military intelligence,” Zach said. “These guys are thugs, not tacticians. They’re counting cops and checking out security cameras. It’s like they’re planning to stick up a Seven-Eleven.”
“I’m insulted,” I said. “They still don’t seem to think I’m even a threat.”
“Try not to take it personally,” Zach said. “As far as they know, you’re some fey art student. They’re worried about the cops.”
“So am I,” I said. “What else did you get?”
“I can give you the three spots where Chukov is going to position his men.”