'The usual-q'qr them both. And I don't want them found.'
Again, none of that would matter if Jihad succeeded and paved the way for the Change.
8
Jack idled the van next to a fire hydrant upstream from the Lodge as he waited for Valez to reappear. He figured they eventually had to find him some medical care.
Or maybe they wouldn't. The Order couldn't be happy with him after what Jack had told them.
Between periodic glances in the rearview to check for a passing patrol car-didn't want a ticket for parking here-he watched Kickers straggling in and out. One of those glances revealed Hank Thompson himself walking down the sidewalk. To further hide his face in case the hat and shades weren't enough, Jack scratched his cheek as Thompson passed. Thompson knew him as the guy who did a smash and grab on his Compendium of Srem almost a year ago. Things would get ugly if he recognized Jack. But he passed without glancing inside.
A little later, a vaguely familiar figure appeared-swarthy, dark-haired, with a unibrow and perpetual five- o'clock shadow, wearing a chrome-studded black leather jacket. Took Jack a few seconds to place him. He didn't know who he was, but he'd shown up in Weezy's hospital room last year, pretending to be a good Samaritan. What had he called himself? Bob Garvey. Yeah, right. Like a guy with a Czech or Polish accent would be named Bob Garvey. He'd tried to pump Jack and Eddie for information about Weezy.
Garvey walked off in the other direction.
Still no sign of Valez.
Shortly after that, a car pulled up ahead of him and double-parked, idling like Jack.
The so-called Garvey sat behind the wheel.
Interesting.
Then a big black Lincoln Town Car pulled up in front of the old stone Lodge. Less than a minute later Valez came limping down the steps and got in.
About time.
Jack put the van in gear and pulled out to follow, but Garvey had the same idea.
Even more interesting.
So Jack followed Garvey.
A mini caravan.
Why was Valez in one car and Garvey following? Didn't make sense. Or maybe it did. Maybe the Order had plans for him other than medical care. Jack knew from personal experience how murderous the Order became when it felt threatened. Was it equally murderous with members who displeased it? In Valez's case, he hoped so. If not, Jack would follow Valez to the hospital or wherever, then follow him home. He wanted to know where he lived so he could look him up should the need arise.
9
Eddie's private line rang in his office. He picked it up. Weezy maybe?
'Brother Connell?'
He recognized Fournier's voice.
'Yes.'
'The Actuator wishes to meet with you.'
Didn't they ever refer to Drexler by name?
'Sure. When?'
'Immediately.'
'I'm in the middle of-'
'I am on my way over with a car to pick you up. I will be out front in three minutes.'
He had an urge to tell him what Drexler could do with his car, but hesitated. Maybe he had some information on Weezy and why the Order was so interested in her.
'Okay. Meet you out front.'
He saved the file he'd been working on, threw on his coat, and headed out. When he arrived down on Sixth Avenue, he found the car waiting for him. Fournier stood outside and pulled open the rear door as Eddie approached.
'I'm riding in the back?'
'It seems I am a chauffeur of sorts for the day.'
Eddie thought this royal treatment a bit odd, but didn't see much choice but to go along. As he slid into the rear he noticed another man sitting at the far end of the seat. He looked disheveled and had a bloody bandage on his right hand.
'Meet Brother Valez. He had an accident. We are taking him for medical care, then going to Mister Drexler.'
The man nodded to him distractedly. Eddie nodded back and hid his annoyance. Fournier had made it sound as if Drexler were in a rush to see him, but here they were, making a side trip.
As the car slid into motion, the door locks clicked shut.
The sound made him uneasy. But some cars locked automatically. He tried the door handle but it didn't work.
He was seated directly behind Fournier so he tapped him on the shoulder.
'What's going on with the doors? Why won't they open?'
Fournier shrugged. 'Child-guard locks, I suppose. I do not know why they are engaged. Are you claustrophobic? Do you want me to stop and undo them?'
Eddie suddenly felt foolish. Yes, he was a bit claustrophobic-not so much as when he'd been a kid-but he could handle this.
'No, of course not. Just curious.'
None of this seemed to bother Brother Valez. He sat to Eddie's right, brooding and clutching the wrist of his injured hand. So why let it bother him?
10
Jack hunched over the steering wheel of the van and stared in shock as the Lincoln pulled away… with Eddie inside and Garvey, or whoever he was, following.
Garvey's staying out of sight made sense now. Eddie would remember him from the hospital. And if Eddie connected him to the Order, he'd know something was up. But why follow at all unless…
… Eddie was headed for the same fate as Valez?
Jack hit the gas. He had to get Eddie out of the car.
But how? Under other circumstances he might approach them, acting all innocent and asking for directions. But both Garvey and Valez knew him, and even if they didn't, Eddie might give it away.
An idea began to form… one that involved a much more direct approach.
Jack hated direct approaches.
As they headed uptown, he pulled the van ahead of Garvey and settled beside the Lincoln, pacing it, looking for some indication that it might be getting ready to turn. It pulled to the far left and stopped at a light with its turn signal blinking.
Jack stopped a little ahead and to its right, checking out the driver through the windshield. No one he'd seen before. Valez slumped on the rear passenger side, looking a little dazed. Eddie, seated behind the driver, wasn't
