She collected her drink, which looked to Harry like a straight tonic, and led him to a table away from the other guests.
‘Sorry about the crush — when we don’t have corporate meetings, we get a lot of military personnel and their families passing through.’ She sat neatly and sipped her drink. ‘Our policy is to support the military at all times. Carl tells me you were with him in Kosovo?’ Her tone ended each sentence on a rising inflection, and Kosovo was pronounced with soft and rounded Os.
‘That’s right.’ Harry wondered how much Pendry had told her.
‘Close protection?’ she said with no trace of irony. ‘Does that mean you’re like the Secret Service, you have to put yourself in front of the — what is it? — the veepee?’
‘Actually, the industry standard is to duck for cover and let the veepee take the bullet.’
‘That’s what Carl said. I didn’t believe him, either.’ The look she gave Harry warned him she wasn’t a weak, fluffy-headed female who needed protecting from the harsher truths of the world, so he could cut the bullshit. He decided he liked her.
‘Have you and Carl been friends for long?’
‘Sure. We were at school together. Then he joined the army and moved away. I stayed around here and did college and majored in business studies. We bumped into each other again in Columbus about a month ago.’ She grinned at the memory. ‘He’d put on about fifty pounds of muscle and grown another ten inches. I hardly recognized him. But we get on pretty good.’ She smiled meaningfully.
Then a shadow loomed over their table and a voice growled menacingly through the background hubbub. ‘Say, what’s a good southern gal doin’ with some skinny-assed white dude from England?’
In Columbus airport, Kassim made his way through the arrivals hall and found a cab. He asked to be taken to the city centre.
The driver nodded without a word. He was a skinny Asian with a scrub of jet-black hair over a pale, pockmarked face. He drove single-handed, the other beating time on the centre console to the radio, pausing only to answer incomprehensible bursts of chatter from his dispatcher. Other than an occasional glance in his rear-view mirror, he ignored his passenger completely.
Kassim was happy enough to sink into the rear seat and keep his head down. He was thinking about the Hotmail message he’d picked up in the internet cafe in New York. He had deleted the words immediately after reading them, but he could still see the text in his mind. It had warned him that the Americans were looking for him, that a pursuer was already out there, waiting for him to make a mistake. The message had also confirmed where he needed to go next.
He stared out at the garish lights of a Holiday Inn as they passed, and toyed with the idea of booking in for the night. At least here there would be no danger; he’d be just another weary traveller looking for a bed. After his night in the deserted building and the fight with the derelict, he needed a shower and some rest. But the faint lure of comfort gave way to the need for action. . to prepare for what lay ahead.
After a couple of miles the cab stopped behind a line of vehicles edging past an auto wreck. Emergency crews were clearing up the debris, and an ambulance was just leaving. The cab driver applied his brake and sighed resignedly.
‘We wait,’ he explained shortly.
Kassim leaned forward and said, ‘I have to hire a car. You know of a person?’
The driver looked back at him in the mirror. A person, not a place. This passenger hadn’t been to the rental agencies at the airport, which had to be for a reason. A bad credit risk, maybe. He nodded. ‘Sure. I know. What kind car?’
‘Ordinary. Not big.’
‘Compact?’ The driver slapped the wheel. ‘Like this?’
Kassim nodded. ‘Ordinary.’
‘Sure. You have money?’ He rubbed his fingers and thumb together, the international sign for cash. His passenger needed a car without signing any papers, this was the only way.
‘I have,’ Kassim confirmed, and stared hard at the man in the mirror until he looked away. His message to the driver was brutally clear. Try to take advantage of me, and you will not live to see the morning.
He sat back and prepared to wait, thinking about the man who was coming after him. The name had been included in the Hotmail message, and was also in his pocket binder. Maybe this man had a double motive for finding him as quickly as possible: to stop him from carrying out his task and to conceal his own involvement. If so, Kassim reflected, then it would be right that they meet soon.
He pulled out the binder and stared hard at the photo of Harry Tate, committing the face to memory.
NINETEEN
Harry looked up to find Carl Pendry grinning down at him, his dark skin gleaming under the soft lights. He was dressed in chinos and a pale shirt, his arm muscles bulging under the thin fabric.
‘For a minute there I thought a human being had walked in,’ Harry responded drily. ‘But it’s just a robot grunt in civilian clothes.’
Pendry looked affronted. ‘Hey, white boy, don’t diss the threads — they cost serious money!’ He bent to kiss Gail on the cheek. ‘Hi, honey — sorry I’m late. This guy giving you trouble?’
Gail smiled and returned the kiss. ‘No, he’s been a perfect gentleman. You could learn a thing or two from him.’
Pendry rolled his eyes. ‘Why is it all you women think the sun sets on ginnelmen?’ He threw a mock scowl at Harry. ‘See what you done, comin’ down here wit yo’ fancy English ways? It’s gonna take me weeks to get her back to likin’ our brutal southern style.’
Gail stood up, her hand on Pendry’s arm. ‘I’ve got to go look after these convention folks. See you tomorrow?’ Pendry nodded and Gail smiled at Harry. ‘It’s been nice meeting you. If you need to stay longer, let me know.’
Harry stood up and nodded. ‘That’s very kind.’
They watched her walk away, then sat down.
‘Have you eaten yet?’ Pendry asked, his voice becoming serious. ‘I guess you want to talk.’
‘That would be good.’
They went into the restaurant and ordered, sitting away from the door so they wouldn’t be interrupted. Over drinks, they quickly caught up on the years since Kosovo.
For Harry it was out of the army and into the Security Service, then civilian life; for Pendry it was a standard round of military postings around the world until he became a senior instructor at the Airborne School, Fort Benning. When talk got round to the other members of the CP team, Harry judged the time right to tell him what had happened.
Pendry said nothing until Harry concluded with the murder of a young girl. He left it until last so that he could judge the other man’s reaction.
‘You serious?’ Pendry looked shocked. ‘Man, they weren’t into any of that shit. Broms — he’s what we’d call a good ol’ farm boy; the Frenchman was too professional to crap crooked. As for shakin’ it with the locals?’ He shook his head in bafflement. ‘When did we get the time?’
‘That’s what I thought.’ Harry told him about the third killing in New York, of the Marine, Carvalho. ‘Did you speak to him?’
‘Said hi, probably. He was in the compound after the others left, but he seemed a regular guy — for a Marine, anyway. He get cut the same way?’
‘Yes. He fought back, but it didn’t do any good.’
Pendry looked keenly at him. ‘You figure this killer’s working his way through the whole convoy? That’s crazy.’ He went silent as the waitress came with their food.
Harry shrugged and began to eat. ‘Maybe he doesn’t know who he’s after, so he’s hunting down everyone on the list until he finds the guilty man. That’s why I’m doing the rounds. Deane’s sending out a warning to the rest of the convoy personnel.’ He put his fork down. ‘I’m going to see Bikovsky next. Do you know why he left the army?’