The Genesis Plague - Michael Byrnes [45]
‘Please, tell me,’ Hazo beseeched.
The monk pointed to the last photo image showing men busily preparing a headless body for burial. ‘Lilith’s tomb.’
24
BOSTON
‘What the hell was that all about?!’ Brooke fumed, as she tried again to buckle her seatbelt with tremulous fingers. ‘Who was that guy?’
‘Damned if I know,’ Flaherty said, checking the rearview again.
‘Slow down, will you,’ she insisted in an agitated tone.
Feeling like his nerves were supercharged with electricity, Flaherty let up on the gas and settled in behind a bus that crept down Huntington Avenue.
‘Who do you work for again? CIA?’
He shook his head. ‘Global Security Corporation. Just like it says on my business card. We’re a US defence contractor, among other things.’
‘Other things?’
Hesitant, he sighed, then told her, ‘GSC provides the staffing services every civilized country needs lots of nowadays: mercenaries, spies, bodyguards, counter-terrorist agents, cyber defence techs. Those kinds of “things”.’ He glanced over at her to gauge her response.
‘Not to insult your work, especially since you just saved my life … but GSC sounds like a glorified temp agency,’ she cynically replied.
‘Temp agency sounds a lot better than what some senators call us. They have really affectionate names like “The Death Broker” or “Assassins Incorporated”.’
She managed a smile.
‘You all right? Doesn’t look like you’re bleeding or—’
‘How do I know that guy with the gun wasn’t one of your men?’
‘Definitely not one of ours,’ he assured her. ‘Our assassins are a helluva lot better than that rookie. You’d have been dead, probably from a car bomb. Or at least a discreet sniper shot,’ he said after giving the logistics momentary consideration.
‘Thanks. That’s comforting.’
‘Hey, if you didn’t notice, those bullets were coming in my direction too,’ he reminded her. He pointed to his trashed stereo. ‘Could’ve been my head instead of my CD player.’
‘I suppose,’ she relented. ‘You know, you weren’t exactly a marksman back there, either.’
He couldn’t help but grin. This woman was definitely feisty. ‘For the record, that’s the first time I’ve ever had to fire a gun at something other than a range target. And in my defence, shooting with my left hand while speeding in reverse on snow wasn’t in my training repertoire.’
She curled her fingers to her lip and fought back the horrible thought of what the alternative outcome might have been had he not shown up. ‘Thanks, I guess. I don’t know what I’d have done if …’
‘You’re welcome,’ he replied humbly. ‘Just glad the timing worked out.’
A pause.
‘So what exactly is your repertoire?’ The words had bite, but she couldn’t help it.
‘I’m an information guy. Intelligence. Glorified desk jockey. I interrogate witnesses and suspects … that sort of thing.’
‘Sounds like you’re a paid conversationalist.’
‘Or a bullshit detector.’ He smiled.
She tried to suppress a laugh, but failed. The adrenaline buzz was abating and her muscles were starting to go limp again. ‘God, that was scary.’
‘Amen, sister. That was wicked crazy back there.’
With Agent Flaherty’s defences down, she noticed a much more pronounced Boston accent. Running her fingers through her wet hair, she blew out a long breath. ‘So now what? Are you supposed to protect me or something?’
‘I’ll have to see what the manual says …’
‘There’s a manual?’ she scoffed.
He shook his head and grinned.
She groaned in frustration.
‘Our local office is next to the Federal Building downtown, near Faneuil Hall. We’ll head there, figure out what to do.’
Brooke crossed her arms tight over her chest and stared out the frosty window.
‘Look. Here’s the deal. A colleague asked me to find you. He’s a deep-cover operative in Iraq. He’s the one who found your ID badge. I know that if he suspected you were in danger, he’d have told me.’
‘How do I know he didn’t call that guy too?’
‘Not a chance,’ he said.
‘Well, someone wants me dead. And