Lethal

This was an industrial area of town comprised of warehouses, machine shops, and small manufacturing plants, all of which had been deserted for the night. Twice she plunged down blind alleys and had to retrace her steps, which became slower the farther she ran.

Only once did she allow herself a few moments to try and catch her breath. She put her back to a crumbling brick wall that formed one side of an alley. She gulped air. She pressed both hands into her side to try and ease the cramp.

She didn’t linger there for long, however. Rats scuttled nearby. She couldn’t see the dog that snarled at her from behind a cyclone fence at the dark end of the alley, but the sound conjured up menacing images.

She continued on.

Finally she reached the tracks. They were overgrown with weeds, but the steel rails reflected some ambient light and made the going a little easier, although her heart felt on the verge of bursting. Her lungs labored. The cramp in her side was causing her to gasp with pain.

But she ran on because Coburn’s life could very well depend on her reaching him. She didn’t want him to die.

When she finally spotted the old train near the water tower, she would have cried out in relief, had she had enough breath to make a sound. Seeing her goal gave her additional strength, and she pumped her legs even faster.

She made out the automobile parked near the train. She saw the two figures standing in front of the hood. As she watched, they separated. Coburn went around to the passenger side. The driver got in and closed his car door.

A heartbeat later a ball of flame bloomed into the night sky, illuminating everything around it in the red glow of hell.

The concussive blast of the explosion knocked Honor to the ground.

Chapter 36

Doral had the dubious pleasure of informing The Bookkeeper.

“My guy in the FBI office had just enough time to plant the bomb on the car and program in the cell phone number. But it worked exactly like it was supposed to. Bam! They never had a chance.”

The silence on the other end was palpable.

Doral continued. “I witnessed it myself from the top of the water tower. All of us got the hell away from the area immediately. Nobody ever knew we were there.”

Still silence.

Doral cleared his throat. “There is one thing, though.”

The Bookkeeper waited in stony silence.

“It wasn’t Honor who showed up. It was Coburn.” Unsure how The Bookkeeper would receive that piece of news, he hastily added, “Which is better when you think about it. It’ll be easier to track down Honor than it would have been to deal with him.”

“But those weren’t your instructions. That wasn’t my plan for Coburn.”

Doral understood The Bookkeeper’s letdown. Between Coburn and Honor, the undercover agent was naturally the bigger trophy. For personal reasons, Doral would have enjoyed killing him in a manner that was painful and protracted. Instead, the son of a bitch had gotten off light. He’d gotten the instantaneous death planned for Honor and Tom VanAllen.

When given his orders a few hours earlier, Doral had diplomatically questioned the necessity of killing the FBI agent. “He really doesn’t know anything.”

To which the Bookkeeper had said, “He’s in a perfect position to ruin things, if unintentionally. Even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then. And it will look good to the Mexicans that we killed a federal agent.”

“We got two FBI guys tonight,” Doral said now. “That should really impress that cartel.”

But The Bookkeeper didn’t seem all that impressed.

Jesus, what did he have to do to make up for letting Coburn escape the warehouse? Now that Coburn and VanAllen were dead, the only remaining threat was Honor. She was just a pawn, but she was a dangerous one who had to be eliminated. Doral accepted that. Just as he’d accepted having to kill Eddie.

He and Fred had tried to persuade The Bookkeeper to rethink that mandate. They’d bargained for his life to be spared. Did Eddie, their boyhood friend, really have to die? Maybe just a stern warning or a threat either real or implied would work.

No loose ends. No mercy. The Bookkeeper hadn’t made an exception even for Eddie. He’d crossed a line. He had to go. The order had been issued in language that a one-year-old could understand, but for the sake of all concerned, he and Fred had made it as quick and painless as possible, while still making it look like an accident.

Doral hoped he could devise something that easy for Honor.

But if she died badly, she had only that friggin’ Coburn to blame, first for involving her-because Doral was convinced that she didn’t know Eddie’s secret-and then for stealing the quick death she should have had.

Of course before Doral could do anything, he had to find her.

With the mind-reading skills that often gave Doral gooseflesh, The Bookkeeper said, “Coburn’s dead, and he was the only person who knew where Honor is. How do you plan to find her?”

“Well, now that Coburn is ashes, she may come out of hiding.”

“You’re willing to wait on that?”