The Judas Strain - James Rollins [195]
More coughing echoed around the well.
The dust cleared enough to reveal one of the sufferers.
Lisa helped Susan sit up. The woman covered her mouth with a fist and continued a racking jag.
Welcome back to the world.
Maybe their luck was turning.
A voice, calling down from above, dismissed that possibility.
“Who do we have here?” Nasser yelled down. “To use a quaint American colloquialism, I’d say we’ve found a bunch of fish in a barrel.”
Rifles circled the well on all sides, pointing down at them.
Gray slid along the wall, bumping into Kowalski.
“What now, boss?” he asked.
Before Gray could answer, a cell phone rang out sharply. It came from above, but the ring tone was familiar. Nasser reached to a pocket and removed Vigor’s phone. He had confiscated it from the monsignor after they had been captured at the hotel. They’d all been thoroughly searched before their sit-down at the Elephant Bar.
Nasser checked the caller ID. “Rachel Verona.” He held the phone over the pit, leaning out. “Your niece, Monsignor. Would you care to say good-bye?”
The phone rang a third time, then went silent.
“I guess not,” Nasser said. “A shame.”
Gray closed his eyes and held his breath.
Nasser continued. “Or maybe, Commander Pierce, you’d like to call my partner, Annishen. I did promise you’d hear your parents’ screams before you died.”
Gray ignored him. His hand slipped behind Kowalski’s back and under the man’s long duster jacket. The interrupted call from Vigor’s niece was a prearranged signal, from Painter, to let Gray know when his mother and father were safe.
Or dead.
Either way…beyond Nasser’s control.
Gray’s fingers wrapped around the butt of the pistol lodged at the base of Kowalski’s back. The large man had almost yanked the gun out earlier, startled by a monkey. Luckily Gray had stopped him.
Gray pulled the pistol free and lowered it to his side.
Nasser continued. “Or maybe I’ll just leave your parents’ fate a mystery…leave you forever wondering, something to take to your grave.”
“Why don’t you go first…” Gray stepped forward, snapped his weapon up, and fired twice.
He clipped the man in the shoulder and the chest. The impacts spun Nasser sideways. He fell into the well, arms flailing, spraying blood against the stone walls.
Gray twisted on a heel, strafing along the well’s rim. He struck three more men while the others fled back. Behind him, Nasser crashed to the stone floor, with a snap of bones and a cry.
Gray scanned above, his weapon ready. The 9mm Metal Storm pistol was an Australian design, the ultimate in power, firing off multiple rounds in fractions of a second. Propellant-driven, no moving parts, all electronic.
“Lisa, check Nasser for Vigor’s phone! Get Painter on the line!”
She shuffled behind him.
As he slowly turned, guarding the well, Gray noted Nasser out of the corner of an eye. He lay on his back, one arm twisted under him, broken at the shoulder. Blood bubbled from his lips. Shattered ribs. But he still lived. Eyes tracking Gray, full of dismay and confusion.
Die wondering, you bastard.
Nasser finally obeyed, sighing out his last breath, eyes going blank.
Seichan voiced Nasser’s question. “So where did you get the gun?”
“I arranged it with Painter. Back in Hormuz. I didn’t want him to mobilize any local teams here. But I did ask for one small concession. A single gun, smuggled into the Elephant Bar bathroom before we ever got there, taped behind a toilet. I knew Nasser might still be suspicious of me, even search me multiple times. But Kowalski…”
Gray shrugged.
“At the bar, I remember,” Seichan said. “Before we left. Kowalski said he had to ‘take a leak.’”
“I knew we’d be searched before the meeting at the bar. It was the easiest way to get a gun to us afterward. To keep it close until my parents were safe.”
Kowalski grunted. “Jackass should’ve watched the goddamn Godfather a few more times.”
Lisa called behind him. “I have Painter