He was dialing as he spoke. He'd had the number on hand for the last week, when it had become obvious what a disaster this case was shap¬ing up to be. And involving Garrett might cause the situation to spiral out of control even more. There was no question that he was efficient and deadly in the field, but he could be volatile. In his late teens, Gar¬rett had been a mercenary; later, he had become involved in smuggling and high-tech embezzlement. He had allowed them to use him occa¬sionally when he'd been low on funds, but he'd always been a loose cannon. He had a sudden memory of Garrett as he'd last seen him in that jungle in Colombia: stripped to the waist, sweating, muscles gleaming with explosive tension, his dark eyes glittering with rage when he'd realized they were leaving him. Hell, he might not even take the call.
Garrett picked up after four rings. 'You must be sweating blood, Ferguson.'
'Things are… difficult. I'd like to come and discuss it with you.'
'Such politeness. You used to demand or use blackmail.'
'But you always managed to get your own back. May I come?'
Garrett was silent a moment. 'You're not my favorite person. Why do you think I'd let you?'
'Because you didn't ignore my call. Because you may be a son of a bitch, but you're not petty.' He paused. 'And because I thought you might be getting bored. You lived on the edge too long.'
Another silence. 'Come ahead. But you're probably going to be wasting your time. I'm not inclined to do you any favors.'
'I'm not asking for anything but information.'
'Bullshit. I've been down that road before.' He hung up.
Ferguson let out his breath as he punched the off button. He hadn't realized how tense he'd been until Garrett had agreed to see him. 'It's a go,' he told Moore. 'Get me Garrett's file. I want to read it on the plane. I've got to find a hook.'
'FERGUSON IS COMING,' GARRETT said as he turned to Jack Dardon, who had just come up on deck. 'I think I'll go back to London.'
'Good. You've been lousy company.' Dardon sat down in a deck chair. 'Is he going to beg and plead?'
'Not if he can use coercion.' Garrett got up and went to the rail and looked out at the coast of Greenland. 'He thinks I'm bored.'
'You are. So am I. We should go to Amsterdam and find you a nice talented whore to spark a little interest.'
'You can get whores anywhere.'
'But I like the Dutch.'
'Then you go to Amsterdam.'
'Maybe I will. I'm not like you. I like things easy.' Dardon was silent a moment. 'Don't get involved, Garrett. It could be one big headache.'
He shrugged. 'I'm just going to listen to Ferguson.'
'Is that why you've been on the phone for the past two days with Karif Barouk?'
'Karif's an old friend. I spent four years with him and his family with his tribe in the mountains when I was a boy.'
'So you told me. And the two of you did everything from am¬bushing Russian troops to raising hell in Kabul. It would be natural to call on him if you needed information, wouldn't it?'
'I'm curious.' He turned and walked back to his deck chair and picked up the newspaper that had photos of Emily Hudson and Joel Levy blazoned on the front page. 'And I don't like puzzles that have missing pieces. It annoys me.'
'And that's all?'
'No.' He gazed down at the photo of Emily Hudson. 'Sometimes I get pissed off. God knows, I know that nothing about life is fair. Look at me. I've been a selfish son of a bitch since I was a kid and crawled out of the gutter. Yet here I am now, safe and on Easy Street because I fought and clawed and learned every dirty trick in the book.' He tapped the picture of Emily Hudson. 'She seems to have done everything right.
Worked her way through school and still went on youth trips to help third-world countries. She spent most of her adult life risking her neck trying to preserve some kind of cultural heritage for people who would just as soon kill her as look at her.' His lips twisted. 'As a reward, she's probably going to die, if she's not dead already.'
'As you said, life's not fair.' Dardon tilted his head. 'But why is this particular inequity bothering you so much?'
Garrett had been asking himself that same question. He didn't know either Hudson or Levy, and those sob stories the media had been broadcasting for the last two weeks shouldn't have roused the anger he was feeling. It was just another atrocity in a world filled with them. He'd thought he was hard enough to be totally immune.
He shrugged. 'Maybe I've had too much time to think about it. The life of leisure isn't what it's cracked up to be. I'm used to being busy.'
'Is that all?'
'No.' He tossed the paper back on the chair. 'I like her face.'
'YOUR FACE IS GETTING THIN,' Staunton said. 'You're not eat¬ing. I don't like that.'
'What does it matter?' Emily said dully. 'You don't care whether I live or die.'
'Oh, but I do. My employer would be upset if you died before you told me where you hid the hammer.'
Emily didn't answer. It did no good to deny it. He wouldn't lis¬ten. 'Then he's going to be upset. I can't tell you what I don't know. What kind of a monster would pay you to do this? Who is he?'
'I have certain business ethics. It wouldn't be honorable of me to give you his name.'
'His name is Satan.'
Staunton chuckled. 'I won't tell him you're so disrespectful. He might take offense.' Then his smile faded. 'Yes, I don't like your condi¬tion at all.' He covered her with her blanket. 'You have to keep warm. It's still snowing outside. And you're not sleeping. No more tears, no more screams, no begging me to spare that poor lad. But of course there's not much of him left to spare, is there?'
'No,' Emily whispered. 'And may God send you straight to hell.'
'Not nice, Emily. Now I want you to eat today. If you don't, I'll find a new and more excruciating way to hurt Levy.'
'You couldn't hurt him any more than you have.'
'You know better than that. You've watched me do it. It's only been two weeks. A few burns, a few body parts… Did you enjoy yes¬terday, Emily?'
'Enjoy?' She repeated the word in disbelief. 'You burned out his eyes, you bastard.' 'You remember?' 'Of course, I remember.' 'Nothing else?'
She stared at him in bewilderment. 'What?' 'I've noticed you try to block out certain choice episodes. Like the one yesterday.'
'You son of a bitch.'
'Now that showed some spirit. Eat your food. I want you fresh and strong when I take you to Levy's hut.' He stood up. 'Twenty minutes, Emily.'
She closed her eyes. She desperately wanted to cry. But he was right; the tears would no longer come. She had wept too much, drowned in horror and helplessness and guilt.
But it wasn't over. Staunton always kept his word. He would find a way to punish her by tormenting that poor shell of the man who had once been Joel Levy.
She sat up and began to eat.
'NICE PLACE,' FERGUSON SAID as he looked around the large living room whose west wall was entirely composed of tall windows over¬looking the sea. 'But not as palatial as I thought you'd choose, consider¬ing your present affluence.'
'You mean ill-gotten gains, don't you?' Garrett smiled. 'You're being tactful. How amusing. Would you like a drink?'
'No.' Ferguson felt a ripple of annoyance as he watched Garrett pour himself a whiskey. This wasn't the sweating, fierce man of the last time they'd met. The bastard was so damn confident and at home in this house
