Diamond nodded. He remembered. She continued to smile. “Always—surprising me,” she said at last, then died with one brief rattle.
He put his head against hers, fighting back tears.
“Diamond!” Giles called out from someplace down the hall.
Diamond’s head snapped up, turning to the source of the assassin’s voice. Instinctively, he moved behind a desk, scanning the hall space directly ahead.
“Who are you?” Diamond snarled.
“An admirer,” Giles coughed, blood gurgling in his throat. “I—like your style, Lou. Sorry about the mess.”
“You don’t know how sorry, asshole!” Diamond yelled back.
“She was … very effective while she lasted, so I’m told,” Giles struggled. “Nice ass, too.”
“You’re dead, fucker!” Diamond said, running from behind the desk to the corner of a wall, simultaneously checking how many rounds he had remaining in his weapon.
“Yes,” Giles agreed. “Quite dead. By the way—my name is Giles. Always feel introductions are important.”
Diamond tried to gauge where the voice was coming from. There were three desks and cubicles directly ahead, along with a stand-alone printer and a huge plant that looked like it probably came from someplace in Bora Bora. Most likely fake, Diamond thought, and surprised himself that he was actually speculating on the nature of the fucking fauna in this place. He glanced back at Linda, dead on the floor.
“Giles, I’ll give you one chance and one chance only, motherfucker,” Diamond said. “Come out, hands in the air, and I don’t give a fuck if you have to crawl. Otherwise, I’m coming after you.”
Giles smiled to himself and nodded. This was a good way to die, he thought. In the harness and faced with the most significant and dangerous adversary of his life. The universe had blessed him. He would take full advantage of it.
“Sorry, Lou,” Giles said. “We’re going to have to do this the hard way. Apologies for the inconvenience.”
“No inconvenience at all,” Diamond said softly.
And that’s when he ran straight for the bank of desks, diving over the stand-alone printer, his gun firing even in mid-air.
Giles would have expected no less of a spectacular tactic from Diamond. He was, predictably, too slow to respond to the airborne Diamond and realized this even as he sluggishly tried to negotiate his own gun into some kind of feasible potential. Instead, Diamond’s bullets smashed into his chest and face before Giles was able to get off a single shot.
Diamond rolled painfully on the floor, emptying his cartridge into the bullet-ridden corpse, not fully content until his clip was completely discharged.
Giles lay twisted in a kind of strange, surrealistic position, not unlike a rag-doll haphazardly dropped on the floor, contorted unnaturally in every way possible. Most of Giles’ large intestines were exposed, the gray-red mass of sausage-like tissue strewn over the corpse’s stomach, and now lying piece-meal on the floor.
There was nothing that remained of Giles’ face.
Diamond looked away, then turned over and lay on his back, staring up at the muted fluorescents above him. Somewhere in the distance, a long way away on the streets below, he could hear the approach of sirens.
He didn’t want to deal with the police. Once Arc-Link discovered that he had survived, they would be after him again. After him—and his daughter. Like Giles, Diamond knew he had one last duty to perform before he disappeared forever.
The front door opened, and Diamond found himself facing a friendly, matronly woman of around fifty. Before he could speak, she smiled and held out her hand.
“Mr. Diamond?” the woman said.
“Yes.”
“I’m Susan Trent.”
“Hi, Susan Trent. You’re a friend of Linda’s, I presume?”
“She asked me to watch the girls earlier today. When Patsy comes in to town, I sometimes give Linda’s cousins a break and turn into neighborhood nanny.”
“I see.”
“Linda mentioned you might be stopping by. And your daughter is a doll. Patsy and she are already fast friends.”
“That’s nice to hear,” Diamond said.
Susan glanced past him out the door. “Is Linda with you?”
Diamond took a breath then shook his head. “No. She’s been delayed. I’m the messenger boy. Linda, well … Linda won’t—”
“Ah, her trial, I’ll bet,” Susan said. “Lawyers, they go 24/7.”
“Yeah, true.”
Suddenly, Sonia shouted out. “Daddy!”
The child ran from the living room, trailed by Patsy.
“Best come in, Mr. Diamond,” Susan said, opening the door wider, just as Sonia fairly threw herself into her father’s arms.
Diamond fell to one knee and hugged Sonia.
“Hi, sweetie,” he said huskily, holding her too tight, but not caring.
“Say, I don’t mean to abandon my post,” Susan said, “but I could use half an hour to run some chores, and—”
“I’ll take it from here, Susan. Nice meeting you.”
Susan smiled then turned to Sonia and Patsy.
“Bye, girls,” she said, walking out the door. “See ya later!”
But Susan Trent was already a distant memory for the children. Lou Diamond was the new Big Person in their life.
Diamond looked at Patsy approaching him, her face all smiles, touched with just a little confusion.
“Where’s mommy?” she asked.
Diamond kissed Sonia, then waved Patsy over. The little girl ran to him, and he put his arm around her.
“Is mommy coming?” Patsy persisted.
“No,” Diamond said gently. “But she gave me a message for you.”
Patsy cocked her head, waiting.
“She said do whatever the nice man tells you to do,” he said.
Patsy giggled. “You’re the nice man, aren’t you?”
Diamond nodded, tired beyond all reasoning.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m the nice man.”
He held Patsy close to him and kissed her head. He then pulled Sonia close and hugged both little girls while he stared out the distant terrace window, at the dark Pacific ocean, thinking of Mexico.
THIRTY-FOUR
Ted Burke had been restless. Still trapped to a hospital bed, his wounds were healing and he was anxious to get back to work. He’d been apprised of the madness with the Berenson & Marelli murders and had absorbed every detail from the file he’d been given—a file ostensibly accumulated by Turner Sage and Lou Diamond. Both associates, sometimes rivals. Sage was dead, murdered by the Arc-Link operatives.
Lou Diamond had simply disappeared.
He hit the television switch, surfing. Restless.
He stopped as a news broadcast began at the top of the hour. “The remarkable evidence presented by the Los Angeles Police Department on the Berenson & Marelli murders has prompted a full congressional investigation into the allegations brought forth against Arc-Link Industries and an inner rogue network operating within the Department of Defense, which appear to be contrary to American interests. The President has denounced these entities, swearing further investigation and promising that, ‘traitors within our midst, helping the enemy, will always be hunted down and brought to justice.’ The President refers to the Arc-Link incident as a thing no less serious than September 11. The claims that at least four murders can be linked to a secret ‘hit team’ within the Arc-Link conglomerate appear to be fully substantiated by the now famous Diamond File. The file was so named for the investigating police officer, Lou Diamond, who brought the documentation to light.”
Burke couldn’t help but laugh. Mainly in admiration. “Diamond, you son of a bitch.”
“It is an ominous footnote, however, that Lou Diamond is still missing and presumed dead—yet another alleged victim of the Arc-Link assassination squad that had been uncovered by Diamond and other investigating officers. Some sources have put forth the theory that Diamond is
still alive and merely waiting until all elements of Arc-Link have been brought into custody to come out of hiding. If this is true, wherever you are Inspector Diamond, this network’s hearts go out to you.”
Burke smiled again, then glanced at a postcard in his hand. He’d received it just this morning and he couldn’t help but laugh as he studied the front of the card once again.
It was a picture of a little boy with a sombrero, holding a puppy and a kitty in either hand. He flipped the card over and read the message, for the tenth time that morning.
“I am disguised as a burro. May need a job when I get back … but for now, taking that vacation. Indefinitely.”
Burke laughed again.
“Son of a bitch.”
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