'Yes. If that's your price for helping us, then yes.'
Pike touched my arm. He shook his head once, telling me to stop.
I said, 'If you want him dead, he's dead. Not, then not.
All I care about is the boy. I'll do anything to get the boy.' Pike touched me again.
Resnick said, 'I believe in rules, Mr. Cole. In a business like mine, rules are all we have to keep us from becoming animals.'
Resnick went back to the jets. He watched them wistfully, as if a jet could take him away from something that he could not escape.
'When I was in London, we hired Mike Fallon. We sent him to Sierra Leone. He was supposed to guard the diamond mines under a contract we had with the government, but he went over to the rebels. I still don't know why--the money, I guess. They did things you can't imagine. You would think I'm making it up.'
I told him what I saw in the van at the edge of the Los Angeles River. Resnick turned back from the jets as I described it. I guess it sounded familiar. He shook his head.
'A fucking animal. He can't work as a mercenary anymore, not with the indictments. No one will hire
him. You think he kidnapped this child for ransom?' 'I think so, yes. The boy's father has money.'
'I don't know what to tell you. Like I said, the last I heard he was in Rio but I'm not even sure of that. There must be a lot of money at stake for him to come back.'
Pike said, 'He has an accomplice. A large black man with sores or warts on his face.'
Resnick swiveled toward us and touched his own face.
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'On his forehead and cheeks ?'
'That's right.'
He leaned forward with his forearms on the desk. It was clear that he recognized the description.
'Those are tribal scars. One of the men Fallon used in Sierra was a Bent6 fighter named Mazi Ibo. He had scars like that.'
Resnick grew excited.
'Is a third man involved?'
'We don't know. It's possible.'
'All right, listen, now L.A. is starting to make sense. Ibo was tight with another merc named Eric Schilling. I guess it was a year ago, something like that, Schilling contacted us looking for security work. He's local, from here in L.A, so Ibo might have contacted him. We might have kept something.'
Resnick went to work on his computer, punching keys to bring up a database.
I said, 'Was he involved in Sierra Leone?'
'Probably, but he wasn't listed in the indictments. That's why he can still work. He was one of Fallon's people. That's why it stood out when he contacted us. I won't hire any of Fallon's people even if they weren't involved. Yeah, here it is.'
Resnick copied an address from his computer, then handed it to me.
'He had a mail drop in San Gabriel under the name Gene Ieanie. They always use these fake names. I don't
know if it's still good, but it's what I have.'
'Do you have a phone for him?'
'They never give a phone. It's like the mail drop and the fake names. It's a way to stay insulated.'
I glanced at the address, then passed it to Pike. I stood, but my legs felt wobbly. Resnick came around his desk.
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He said, 'We're talking about very dangerous people right now. Don't mistake these men for your basic shiteating criminals. Fallon was as good as it gets, and he
trained these people. No one is better at killing.'
Pike said, 'Bears.'
Resnick and I both glanced at him, but Pike was staring at the address. Resnick gripped my hand and held it. He looked into my eyes as if he was searching for something.
'Do you believe in God, Mr. Cole?'
'When I'm scared.'
'I pray every night. I pray because I sent Mike Fal'lon to Sierra Leone, so I've always felt that part of his sin must be mine. I hope you find him. I hope the little boy is safe.'
I saw the desperate darkness in Resnick's face, and recognized it as my own. A moth probably saw the same thing when it looked into a flame. I should not have asked, but I could not help myself.
I said, 'What happened over there? What did Fallon do ?'
