Tony raised a skeptical brow. “How do you know? You’ve never met the woman.”
Noah pulled the manila folder out of his top desk drawer and flipped it open. “But thanks to your pet detective Barlow, I have an excellent profile on her.” A photograph of Kate Denby preceded the report. Short, silky ash-blond hair framed a face that was an odd combination of strength and vulnerability. A square jaw, a large mouth that still managed to look sensitive, wide-set hazel eyes that stared boldly—these features seemed to jump out at them. “Or, at least, I thought I did. There’s nothing in here about her mother-in-law taking care of the child.”
“Barlow’s a good man. He probably thought you wanted him to concentrate on her professional qualifications.” Tony picked up the dossier and scanned it. “Seems pretty thorough. Daughter of Robert Murdock, a distinguished physician. He died of cancer three years ago. She was something of a child prodigy, graduated from college at sixteen, completed medical school and earned a string of degrees in genetic sciences by the time she was twenty-five. Worked at Breland’s lab in Oklahoma City and then took a job across town at GeneChem. They offered her less money but a contract that allowed her to do private research on her own time, using their facilities. She’s divorced and has custody of a nine-year-old son.”
“I knew almost all of that before I asked for a dossier. Her background was on her credit line with the article,” Noah said. “What I didn’t know was that she was still on good enough terms with her mother-in-law to let her take care of her son.”
“It’s not exactly important data, is it?”
“It’s important if it contributes to the comfortable nest Kate Denby’s built for herself.”
Tony lifted his brows. “Oh, the nest you want to jerk her out of and burn down behind her?”
Noah looked up with a grin. “You malign me. I’ve been very gentle with her . . . for me. Nary a jerk. I’ve wielded only persuasion, bribery, and persistence.”
“So far,” Tony said dryly. “But you’re getting impatient.”
Noah’s smile faded. “You’re damn right.”
“Have you told her anything about the project you want her to work on?”
“I can’t risk it. I have to wait until I have her here.” He scowled. “And time’s running out.”
“Maybe faster than you think.” Tony paused. “I was followed this trip. Since London, I think.”
Noah muttered a curse. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. You expected it, didn’t you?”
“I expected it but not this soon. I wanted to have everything in place.” His voice held a thread of desperation. “I’m not ready, dammit. Do you know who’s paying him?”
Tony shook his head. “Hey, I’m a lawyer, not a fortune-teller. Do you?”
“Maybe. Raymond Ogden called me yesterday.”
Tony gave a low whistle. “Big stuff. He owns one of the largest pharmaceutical companies in the world, doesn’t he?”
Noah nodded. “And a bag of dirty tricks to go along with it.”
“How do you know?”
“He tried to take over my company six years ago.” Noah smiled crookedly. “He tried everything from seduction of stockholders to launching an ad campaign that hinted that our production line was careless.”
“But he didn’t succeed in taking you over.”
“No. He changed his mind.”
Tony didn’t ask what methods Noah had used to change his mind. Noah was one tough bastard and almost feudal in his possessive attitude toward his company. “So he can’t be much danger to you.”
“He barely flexed his muscles on the takeover attempt. J. and S. was too small to be worth his personal attention.”
“But this will be different?”
“Oh, yes. I’ll definitely have his full attention. Which means you’re out of it, Tony.”
“What?”
“You heard me. It could get nasty from now on.”
“You’re overreacting. I haven’t made the Washington trip yet. Ogden may not know anything. He’s probably grasping at straws.”
“God, I hope so.”
Tony looked at him in surprise. Hope wasn’t Noah Smith’s usual modus operandi. He preferred to make his own luck, mold circumstances to suit himself like the modern-day buccaneer Tony knew him to be. The weary heaviness and uncertainty in his tone were uncharacteristic of him. But then, Noah’s entire handling of RU2 had been unusual. He had kept his reckless streak firmly in check. He had been careful, painstaking, and relentlessly protective. “You’re really worried.” He paused before asking the question he’d kept himself from asking for the last ten months. “What the hell is RU2?”
Noah shook his head. “You don’t want to know.”
“If I didn’t want to know, I wouldn’t have asked. I’ve been your friend for sixteen years and your lawyer for eight. I think I deserve your trust, Noah.”
“My lawyer shouldn’t ask me questions I don’t want to answer.” He met his gaze. “And my friend should believe me when I tell him he doesn’t want to know more than he has to know. It’s not safe.”
“Professionally?”
“It’s not safe,” Noah repeated. “Back off, Tony.”
“I doubt if Ogden’s going to blackjack me in some dark alley.”
“Not personally. Why should he? He can hire someone to do it.”
Tony shook his head. “I can’t see Ogden regarding your RU2 as that much of a threat. He’s a major player.”
“Then think of Ogden Pharmaceuticals as Hiroshima and RU2 as the first atomic bomb. That should make it clearer.”
Tony started to smile. “You’re joking. You can’t be—” Then he realized Noah was dead serious, and for the first time he was shaken. “You’re not being paranoid?”
“I’m being careful. For God’s sake, I’m trying to keep you out of this.” Noah’s voice roughened. “I let you help me because you’re the only one I could trust, but now I want you out. I knew that someone like Ogden was bound to surface as soon as the sharks found out about RU2.”
“Found out what?”
Noah was silent.
It was no use. “You always were a selfish bastard,” he said lightly. “We haven’t done any shark fishing since Grenada and now you want to keep them all to yourself.”
Noah relaxed. “With any luck I’ll swim away before they know I’m in the water.”
“Not likely. You usually make a pretty big splash.”
“Well, go away to the mountains for a week or so until I see what’s happening with Ogden.” He opened the desk, pulled out a key ring, and tossed it to Tony. “I’ve rented a lodge in the Sierra Madres for you. The address is on the ring. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going, not even your secretary. Okay?”
“Whatever you say.” He got up to leave. “I could use a little vacation. I have to bring by those Amsterdam contracts for you to sign. They should be ready by Monday and I’ll leave by the end of the week.”
“Leave Tuesday.”
“Okay. Okay. You’ll call me if you need me?”
“Loud and clear.”
Tony moved toward the door.
“And Tony.” Noah’s brow was knitted in thought. “Get in touch with Seth. Ask him to come.”
“He won’t do it.”
“Ask him.”
“For God’s sake, Noah, you don’t need a mercenary. This isn’t a war.”
“Not yet.”
“He may not even be alive. He hasn’t surfaced in the last five years.”
“He was alive eight months ago. He spent a week with me on the Cadro sailing in the Caribbean.”
Tony’s eyes widened in surprise. “You didn’t tell me.”
“I don’t tell you everything, Tony.”
“It seems you tell me precious little.”
Noah smiled. “Are you disgruntled because I didn’t invite you along? You and Seth are hardly bosom buddies.”
“The bastard has always needled the hel
l out of me.”
“True. I think your newfound respectability annoys him. He doesn’t like lawyers.”
“No, he prefers smugglers, killers, and sundry riffraff,” Tony said sourly.
“Riffraff.” Noah savored the phrase. “Where the hell did you come up with that word?”
“It comes to mind every time I think of Seth.”
“You must try it on him next time you see him.”
“I don’t want to see him. Hell, I don’t even know where to contact him.”
“South America.”
“Thanks for narrowing it down.”
“Pedro Estaban’s hotel in Venga, Colombia. Leave a message with Manuel Carrerra. Tell him it’s time. Get Seth for me, Tony. Right away.”
“I’ll try,” he said grudgingly. “You won’t let me help, but, dammit, you don’t mind putting his neck on the line.”
“It’s his area of expertise. He has an edge.” He smiled slyly. “He’s not a lawyer.”
“You bastard.” Tony paused at the door and glanced back at the dossier on Noah’s desk. “You’re so concerned about keeping my ass safe. What about Kate Denby’s?”
Noah’s expression became shuttered. “I can’t allow myself to worry about her. She’ll have to take her chances.”
“Why?”
“I need her,” Noah said simply.
After the door closed behind Tony, Noah flipped shut the Kate Denby dossier. He didn’t want her face gazing up at him. Over the last few weeks he had become too familiar with that face. He had become familiar with her.
And that was a mistake.
When he finally persuaded her to join his camp, he’d have to distance himself. Not an easy task since they’d have to work closely together, but he knew himself too well. He couldn’t let her close, couldn’t let her become a friend. If he started to worry about Kate Denby, RU2 would be endangered, and that mustn’t happen. He had to be able to use her and not worry about the consequences.
And the consequences were beginning to loom on the horizon. He could put off Ogden for a little while, but he was like a tribe of Indians circling the wagon train. Sooner or later he’d swoop in and attack.
And Noah had to sit on his butt and watch it coming. Wait, instead of attack. Evade, instead of rushing in and grappling toe to toe.
He stood up and moved restlessly to the window and gazed down at the factory yard. It was almost deserted this Saturday afternoon. Only a skeleton crew was working in the east wing of the plant, where most of the production took place. J. and S. Pharmaceuticals was small but very prosperous for its size, a family business started by his grandfather and built upon by his father. A good many of the employees who worked in that building had been here while he was growing up. As a kid, he’d taken his lunch bucket and eaten down there in that yard with Pauly McGregor, who now headed production. In a changing world, this plant was a bedrock.
His bedrock. His people.
But RU2 might change that too. It could twist and transform everything that was important to him.
Why was he second-guessing now? he wondered impatiently. He had made the agonizing decision two years ago when he’d realized RU2’s potential.
There was no way he could back down now.
RU2 must survive.
South America
Sunday, March 25
Seth knew that smell.
It was a smell you never forgot.
Goddamn Namirez.
He moved quickly through the rain forest toward the village. No need to be silent now. Not when the smell was this strong.
The village was silent.
Bodies lay everywhere. Men, women, children, babies.
Death. Mud. Stinking decay.
Christ, even the babies.
Namirez, you lying son of a bitch.
A yellow-brown mongrel pup crept out of a hut, wagging its tail. It came closer, sniffing at Seth’s combat boots.
He was surprised Namirez hadn’t butchered the animals as well.
Son of a bitch.
Venga, Colombia
“You have acquired a pet, senor?” Manuel shook his head as Seth came into the lobby of the hotel a day later. “Very scrawny. I can get you a much finer animal.”
“I like this one.” He handed Manuel the rope with which he’d haltered the mongrel. “Feed him, will you? Is Namirez in town?”
Manuel nodded. “In the back room. Sergeant Rimilon is here too. He’s in his room.” He handed Seth a folded slip of paper. “That’s a message for you. Mr. Lynski wishes you to call him right away.”
“Later.” He stuffed the message into his shirt pocket. “Call the policía and then tell Sergeant Rimilon to meet me in the lobby. Get the helicopter gassed up.”
“You are going somewhere?”
“Yes.” He went around the desk and opened the door to the back room.
Namirez was sitting at the desk. He looked up and smiled. “Ah, Drakin, all is going well for us. You’ve done what you promised.”
“You haven’t.” He drew his pistol from its holster. “I told you. No reprisals.”
He shot him squarely in the center of the forehead.
“What are we supposed to do now?” Rimilon shouted, trying to keep pace as Seth ran toward the helicopter behind the hotel. “Did you have to kill him?”
“Yes.” Seth jumped into the helicopter and set the pup on the floor beside him. “Disband the men and get the hell out of here. Namirez’s partners aren’t going to like losing him at this point. Everything’s going to fall apart.”
Rimilon swore long and emphatically. “All you had to do was ignore what happened in the village. Now how are we going to get paid? I saw the policía rifling through his safe.”
“But I got there first.” Seth tossed him a bundle. “Pay the men off and scat. I’d leave S.A. for a while. I’ll be in touch.” He closed the door and the helicopter lifted off.
He didn’t unfold the slip of paper he’d put in his pocket until he was out of Colombia and heading for the Caracas airport. It was only one line and a telephone number.
Noah says it’s time.
It was what he expected to see. Noah had told him everything would be coming to a head soon. Another war. Another place.
God, he was tired of it.
But this would be different. It was Noah’s war and Noah was one of the good guys, the white hats. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
The pup at his feet whimpered.
He glanced down and saw the pup had peed on the floor. Great. The noise and vibration of the helicopter had scared him. Seth understood fear. You got used to it, but it never went away.
He reached down and patted the pup on the head. “Take it easy. We’ll be down soon.” He shouldn’t have brought the dog. What the hell was he going to do with him? He could have trusted Manuel to take care of him.
But he wasn’t long on trust, and the pup had survived the massacre and deserved to live. So he was stuck with a mongrel who was going to prove inconvenient as hell.
Which might be the least of his worries. Noah was smart and he thought he was prepared, but he hadn’t gone to war since Grenada. He didn’t think like a soldier anymore.
But it was Noah’s war, Noah’s call. Seth didn’t have to run the show on this one. It would be good to relax and take a backseat for a while.
If he could do it. He was having a harder time unwinding lately. Every year the edge got sharper, the tightness got—
The pup was trying to climb into his lap, and Seth pushed him back to the floor. “Sorry, you’ll get in my way. You wouldn’t want to see this bird go down in the jungle. You’ve been there.”
And so had he. Jungle, desert, islands . . . they all became a blur after a while. Nothing was different but the people, and they tended to fade too.
Except for sons of bitches like Namirez and Noah of the white hat.
The white hat and RU2 that could send them all to hell.
* * *
TWO
Dandridge, Oklahoma
Monday, March 26
10:35 A.M.
Murderess!”
“Filthy butcher!”
“Get the demon!”
Kate flung open the glass door at GeneChem’s front entrance, watching grimly as Benita Chavez bolted from the parking lot and down the walk followed by the howling mob.
“Do you think she’ll make it?” Charlie Dodd murmured in Kate’s ear.
“If she does, I’ll murder her myself,” Kate said. “Where the hell is Security?”
“I don’t know. We were all supposed to be in the building before eight. It’s almost eleven.”
“Well, ring the buzzer for them.”
“I already did. As soon as I saw Benny get out of her car.”
Benny Chavez waved cheerfully as she saw Kate. Her jean-clad legs took the stone steps two at a time; her long black hair streamed behind her.
“She’s laughing,” Kate said between her teeth. “The idiot thinks this is a big joke.”
“It won’t be so funny if they catch—Damn.”
One of the signs carried by the protesters had descended on Benita’s head. She staggered, stopped, and caught her balance. It was too late. She was engulfed in the screaming horde.
“Hold the door open.” Kate flew down the steps toward the knot of humanity surrounding Benny. She grabbed a sign away from a gray-haired harridan on the edge of the crowd, turned it around, and started wielding the wooden pole like a staff, clearing the way before her until she caught sight of Benita.
Benny’s shirttail was out of her jeans, her hair covered her eyes, and she was no longer smiling.
“Run for the building.” Kate jabbed a potbellied man in the abdomen, forcing him to back away from Benny. “Now.”
“I can’t leave you. I won’t go until you—Ouch.”
Kate had jabbed her with the pole. “Now, damn you. I’ll be right behind you.”
Benny hurried up the steps.
“Bitch.” The snarl came from the gray-haired woman from whom Kate had taken the sign. “Murderess.”
Blinding pain struck her temple.
She was going down. . . .
The hell she was. They’d be on her like a pack of hyenas. She fought back the darkness, striking blindly to the right and left with the pole.
Long After Midnight Page 2
