The Judas Strain - James Rollins [31]
The orderlies had shoved the stretcher into the side yard. One held a gun on Kowalski, the other waved for Gray’s father to get out of the car.
“Stay where you are,” a harsh voice warned behind him.
Gray glanced over his shoulder. The woman, Anni, held a black Sig Sauer at his face, standing out of reach of a leg sweep, but close enough that she would not miss a head shot.
Recognizing this, Gray faced the Thunderbird.
Dr. Nasser carried a matching pistol in his hand.
Gray somehow knew that it was the weapon that had shot Seichan.
Nasser came around to Gray’s father’s side. He searched down to where Seichan lay sprawled. He shook his head sadly, then pointed to the gunman on that side. “Get the old man out of the car. See if the bitch has the obelisk, then drag her to the van.”
Obelisk?
Gray watched as his father was manhandled out of the backseat. He prayed his father would not aggravate the situation. But it proved unnecessary. Plainly stunned, his father offered no resistance.
“She doesn’t have it,” the man in the backseat finally said, straightening up.
Nasser stepped to the car and scanned the interior himself. He did not find what he was looking for. The only sign of consternation at this lack of discovery was a single crinkle between his eyes.
He stepped away from the car and faced Gray.
“Where is it?”
Gray fixed the man with a steady stare. “Where is what?”
He sighed. “Surely she told you, or you wouldn’t be making such an effort for an enemy.” Without turning, he signaled the man who had searched Seichan. The man pressed his pistol against his father’s forehead.
“I don’t ask questions a second time. You probably don’t know that. So I’ll give you this moment of leeway.”
Gray swallowed, noting the raw fear in his father’s eyes.
“The obelisk,” Gray said. “The one you mentioned. She had it with her, but it broke when she crashed her bike at the house. She passed out before she could say anything about it. For all I know, it’s still there.”
And it might be.
He had forgotten about it in the rush to deal with Seichan.
Where had it gone?
The man kept his eyes fixed on Gray. He studied him with a calculating and steady gaze.
“I think you’re actually telling me the truth, Commander Pierce.”
Still, the Egyptian signaled his gunman.
The shot was deafening.
1:10 A.M.
A MINUTE AGO Painter had noted movement on the plasma screen to the left. The interior video cameras of the safe house were still working. He spotted Mrs. Harriet Pierce crouched behind the kitchen table.
The attackers seemed unaware she was hiding inside.
No one except Gray had known he was coming to the safe house with an extra two passengers. The van had arrived after Gray’s mother had gone inside. With the one guard stationed at the house immobilized, they had assumed the scene was locked down.
Painter knew it was his only advantage.
He called for a silent alarm to be raised at the house and a line opened. He watched the amber light beside the house phone blink and blink.
See the flashing light, he willed her.
Whether it was the alarm light or the simple instinct to call for help, Harriet crept over to the kitchen phone, reached up, and pulled the receiver to her ear.
“Don’t talk,” he said quickly. “It’s Painter Crowe. Don’t let them know you are inside. I can see you. Nod if you understand.”
She nodded.
“Good. I have help coming. But I don’t know if they’ll reach you in time. The attackers must know this, too. They will be cruel and quick. I need you to be crueler. Can you do this?”
A nod.
“Very good. There should be a pistol in the drawer below the phone.”
1:11 A.M.
THE GUNSHOT WAS deafening.
Deafening.
Not a silencer like before.
Gray knew the truth the fraction of a second before the gunman holding a weapon to his father’s head fell to the side, half his skull splattering against the front quarter panel of the Thunderbird.
He knew the shooter.
His mother.
She was Texas bred, raised by an oilman who worked the same fields