Without remorse - Tom Clancy [335]
'I still don't understand.'
'It's really nothing that need concern you. You just helped me out on something, that's all. What say we have lunch? Then we can meet with a countryman of yours. Please be at ease, Comrade Colonel,' Ritter said as reassuringly as he could. 'If your side sticks to the bargain, you'll be on your way home in about eight hours. Fair enough?'
Mark Charon was uncomfortable coming here again, safe though the location might be this early into its use. Well, this wouldn't take long. He pulled his unmarked Ford to the front of the building, got out, and walked to the front door. It was locked. He had to knock. Tony Piaggi yanked it open, a gun in his hand. 'What's this?' Charon demanded in alarm.
'What's this?' Kelly asked himself quietly. He hadn't expected the car to come right up to the building, and had been loading two more rounds into the clip when the man pulled in and got out. The rifle was so stiff that he had trouble getting the clip back in, and by the time he had it up, the figure was moving too rapidly for a shot. Damn. Of course, he didn't know who it was. He twisted the scope to max-power and examined the car. Cheap body ... an extra radio antenna ... police car? Reflected light prevented him from seeing the interior. Damn. He'd made a small mistake. He'd expected a down-time after dropping the two on the roof. Never take anything for granted, dummy! The slight error made him grimace.
'What the hell is going on?' Charon snapped at them. Then he saw the body on the floor, a small hole slightly above and to the left of the open right eye.
'It's him! He's out there!' Tucker said.
'Who?'
'The one who got Billy and Rick and Burt -'
'Kelly!' Charon exclaimed, turning around to look at the closed door.
'You know his name?' Tucker asked.
'Ryan and Douglas are after him - they want him for a string of killings.'
Piaggi grunted. 'The string is longer by two. Bobby here, and Fred on the roof.' He stooped by the window again. He's got to be right across the road there ...
Charon had his gun out now, for no apparent reason. Somehow the bags of heroin seemed unusually heavy now, and he set his service revolver down and unloaded them from his clothing onto the table with the rest of them, along with the mixing bowl, and the envelopes, and the stapler. That activity ended his current ability to do anything but look at the other two. That was when the phone rang. Tucker got it.
'Having fun, you cocksucker?'
'Did you have fun with Pam?' Kelly asked coldly. 'So,' he asked more pleasantly, 'who's your friend? Is that the cop you have on the payroll?'
'You think you know it all, don't you?'
'No, not all. I don't know why a man would get his rocks off killing girls, Henry. You want to tell me that?' Kelly asked.
'Fuck you, man!'
'You want to come on out and try? You swing that way too, sweetie-pie?' Kelly hoped Tucker didn't break the phone, the way he slammed it down. He just didn't understand the game, and that was good. If you didn't know the rules, you couldn't fight back effectively. There was an edge of fatigue on his voice, and Tony's also. The one on the roof hadn't had his shirt buttoned; it was rumpled, Kelly saw, examining the body through his sight. The trousers had creases inside the knees, as though the man had been sitting up all night. Had he merely been a slob? That didn't seem likely. The shoes he'd left by the opening were quite shiny. Probably up all night, Kelly judged after a few seconds' reflection. They're tired, and they're scared, and they don't know the game. Fine. He had his water and his candy bars, and all day.
'If you knew that bastard's name, how come you - goddamn it!' Tucker swore. 'You told me he's just a rich beach bum, I said I could take him out in the hospital, remember, but no! ... you