We reached Lincoln Center, rushing by thefamous fountain in front of the Metropolitan Opera House without asideways glance, then plunged down into the oppressive heat of thesubway.
I bought three fare cards, and we pushedthrough the turnstiles. The Iranians had been delayed, but they hadto guess we’d make for the train. They would catch up withinminutes, maybe seconds. I had to make sure we were not where theyexpected by the time they came calling.
The Lincoln Center station was accessible tothose with disabilities, and while Kirk was still mobile, handrailsand ramps made navigating much faster than it would be in some ofthe less accessible stations. But though we reached the platform inrecord time, no train was waiting, and I couldn’t detect any rumbleto suggest one would be approaching in the next few seconds.
The blood on his leg was obvious, but thosewho noticed purposely turned their backs to it. I kept a watchfuleye out for Good Samaritans. None attempted to get involved.
I needed to find a place to hide. A place theIranians would be unlikely to expect me to go. A place I couldextract some answers.
I steered Kirk and Julie into a men’srestroom.
The place smelled like piss, mildew and thosesweet pink deodorizing cakes that never really seemed to work. Thebank of urinals and sinks weren’t being used. Dipping low, Inoticed one pair of feet under a door. I directed Julie into thelarge stall on the end and pushed Kirk in after her. Afterdepositing Kirk on the toilet, I flattened him to the tile wallbehind him, my forearm snug up under his chin, and waited for thelone man to finish up and leave.
Kirk wisely stayed silent, watching me.Although his skin was pale and sweat beaded on his brow, he wasstill giving off that calm, deadly vibe.
Too bad for him I was now immune to hischarm. Trying to kill me tended to dampen my ardor.
I held the gun against his forehead. When Iactually decided to end him, I would opt for the garrote in mypurse strap, but there was nothing quite like the barrel of a gunto convey you mean business.
“You killed Morrissey.”
“I didn’t.”
“Then who did?”
“My employers. I was brought in to take hisplace, rendezvous with you and get the girl. I’m just the hiredhelp.”
“Who are you working for?”
“An interested party from Moscow.”
I narrowed my eyes on his. “Try Iran.”
“The Iranians? I wondered how long it wouldtake them to catch up. Have the Venezuelans rejoined the partyyet?”
I hadn’t seen Hawk Nose and his boys sincethe tunnel incident, but I felt no need to answer. Knowledge waspower, as they say, and right now Kirk had all the answers. Iwasn’t about to let him start asking the questions.
“You expect me to believe you don’t work forthem?”
“I work for whoever pays. Sometimes it’s evenUncle Sam. Today it happens to be the Russians.”
“Then how did they find us? Manhattan is abig place.”
“Who? The Iranians or the Venezuelans?”
I gave him a cold stare.
“You want me to guess?” he asked.
“Give it your best shot.”
“The Venezuelans have a passion for policescanners.”
I thought of the scanner I’d heard at thehouse on Long Island. Great. If they were using the police scannerto find us, after our street shooting, they might just be on theirway, too.
“And the Iranians?”
He gave a shrug. “If they found me, my bestguess is they had the same intel that you do. Eyes on the street.Or maybe in the sky.”
Satellites. I liked that answer a littlebetter. If it was true, we could lose them in the maze that was theNew York subway system.
“How about the Russians?”
“They don’t have anyone else in the game. I’mit. That’s part of my deal.”
I considered this for a moment. I didn’t wantto trust Kirk, and yet every sign he was giving suggested he wastelling the truth, that he was a gun for hire and had no stake inany game other than a paycheck. As a bonus, the story jived withthe profile Jacob had dug up on him.
“And what are the Russians paying you todo?”
“Same thing as you’re being paid to do.”
“My job is to protect Julie.”
I shot her a glance. She leaned against thestall wall, her eyes large and sunken, a child who’d witnessed moretrauma than she could absorb. Graffiti etched the paint behindher.
“Protect her,” Kirk continued. “Deliver herunharmed. Bingo.”
“Why would the Russians care if Julie isharmed? What value does she have to them?”
“Ask what value she has to you.” He shook hishead. “Scratch that. I can see you’re the protective type, at leastwhere she’s concerned. So instead, ask what value she has to youremployer.”
A fair question.
“She knows something.”
It was a complete guess on my part. Since Ihad no idea who the VIP was or even if there was a VIP, a shot inthe dark was all I could manage. I looked Julie’s way, this time inquestion.
She shook her head. “I don’t know anything. Iswear.”
When I brought my focus back to Kirk, he wassmiling.
“Okay, spill,” I said. “What does sheknow?”
“She doesn’t know anything. She told youherself.”
“So what are you getting at?” I gave him ahard stare, waiting for the punch line.
“It’s not what she knows. It’s whatshe is.”
Now I was really confused. “What she is?”
“I’m going to be on the level with you,Chandler. Okay? This is just a job to me. I don’t have anything tohide. If it matters, I wasn’t trying to kill you. I could have shotyou at any time. I was simply knocking you out.”
“Just spill it, Kirk.”
He took a deep breath, let it out slow. “Everheard of an asymptomatic carrier?”
Where the hell did that come from?
“It’s someone who has a disease and canspread it but never actually gets sick,” he said.
“What?” Julie not only looked in shock now,she appeared as confused as I was.
“And you’re telling me Julie is anasymptomatic carrier?” I asked Kirk.
He nodded.
Julie shook her head. “I am not. What are youtalking about?”
Kirk’s gaze flicked to
