Kill Me if You Can - James Patterson [73]
I paced from one end of the waiting area to the other. The escalator from the MetLife Building whirred quietly. No one had set foot on it for twenty minutes. The traffic in Grand Central had thinned out dramatically. That, at least, was a plus. Fewer people. Less chance of hitting an innocent bystander.
I was ready. My team was ready. But where the hell was Chukov?
Eleven fifteen. Eleven thirty. Eleven forty-five.
At three minutes before midnight, my cell rang. The caller ID said it was coming from Katherine’s phone. I answered. The voice on the other end was ice cold and menacing. It was Vadim Chukov.
“It’s over,” he said.
“Over? Where are you?” I said. “I’ve been standing here in Grand Central with your diamonds since ten o’clock.”
“Shove them up your ass,” he said.
“What are you talking about? We have a deal.”
“The deal is off,” he said. “You lied. You sold the diamonds in Amsterdam.”
“That’s crazy,” I said. “I tried, but I couldn’t. I have them right here in my hand.”
“You want to know what’s in my hand, Bannon?” Chukov said. “A seven-inch carbon steel knife, and as soon as my men have finished gangbanging your pretty little girlfriend, I’m going to use it to slit her throat.”
He hung up.
I stood there shaking. Unable to breathe. Sweat pouring off me.
Chapter 86
“FORTY-THREE TO DISPATCH.”
It was midnight, and Ty was doing his quarter-hour call-in from Lexington Avenue.
“Slow night,” he said. “No passengers.”
“This is Dispatch to all cabs,” I said. “I just got a call. The Russian isn’t coming. He’s backing out of the deal.”
None of us said a word as each man on the team let the bad news penetrate. And then Adam broke the silence.
“Forty-two to Dispatch. We may have some signals crossed. You said the Russian isn’t coming, but his Benz just pulled into the loading zone at the Grand Hyatt.”
The Hyatt was next door to Grand Central. “There are a lot of Benzes in this city,” I said. “Are you sure it’s his?”
“Hold on,” Adam said. “Let me put on my reading glasses.”
Adam’s reading glasses were a three-thousand-dollar pair of 13x Steiner sniper-grade binoculars.
“Affirmative,” he said. “He’s in the front seat, passenger side. There are people in the backseat, but I can’t get an angle on them.”
“Forty-five to Dispatch.” It was Zach calling in from Vanderbilt. “I have three men looking for a taxi. I recognize two of them from this afternoon. You should see them in a few seconds.”
Even as he spoke, three men in dark suits walked through the Vanderbilt entrance and down the stairs. One of them pointed to the three spots we had targeted on the map, and each headed for his assigned place.
I tried to process the new information. Chukov was outside the terminal. His men were taking their positions inside. I was trying to make sense of it all when my cell rang.
It was Chukov.
“So, Mr. Bannon,” he said. “Do I have your attention?”
“Undivided,” I said.
“It’s painful when you think that something you love is gone forever, isn’t it?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “That’s how I felt when you ran off with my diamonds. You have experienced only a moment of pain, but I have the power to make your pain last a lifetime. Do you understand?”
“Perfectly,” I said. “I want to see Katherine.”
“And I want to run my blade from her perky little nipples to her creamy white thighs. Let’s see which one of us gets what he wants. Where are my diamonds?”
“Right here in my hand,” I said. “I didn’t sell them.”
“I didn’t think you did,” Chukov said. “I don’t think you could. You know why? Because you don’t have the brains and you don’t have the balls. Where are you now, Bannon?”
I gave him my exact location.
He hung up.
A few seconds later, Adam reported in.
“The Russian just got out of the Benz. The back doors are both opening. People are getting out. One man…a second man…”
I held my breath.