按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
〃Patrick；〃 Guy said； gently shaking his arm。 No response； just the sounds of a deep sleep。
The dosage was immediately reduced； and they waited。
THE FBI FILE on Jack Stephano was a quick study； former Chicago detective with two degrees in criminology； former high…priced bounty hunter； expert marksman； self…taught master of search and espionage； and now the owner of a shady D。C。 firm which apparently charged huge fees to locate missing people and conduct expensive surveillance。
The FBI file on Patrick Lanigan filled eight boxes。 It made sense that one file would attract the other。 There was no shortage of people who wanted Patrick found and brought home。 Stephano's group had been hired to do it。
Stephano's firm； Edmund Associates； occupied the top floor of a nondescript building on K Street； six blocks from the White House。 Two agents waited in the lobby by the elevator as two others stormed Stephano's office。 They almost scuffled with a heavy secretary who insisted Mr。 Stephano was too busy at the moment。 They found him at his desk； alone； chatting happily on the phone。 His smile vanished when they barged in with badges flashing。
〃What the hell is this！〃 Stephano demanded。 The wall behind his desk was a richly detailed map of the world； plete with little red blinking lights stuck on green continents。 Which one was Patrick？
〃Who hired you to find Patrick Lanigan？〃 asked Agent One。
〃That's confidential；〃 Stephano sneered。 He'd been a cop for years and was not easy to intimidate。
〃We got a call from Brazil this afternoon；〃 said Agent Two。
So did I； thought Stephano； stunned by this but desperately trying to appear unfazed。 His jaw dropped an inch and his shoulders sagged as his mind raced wildly through all the possible theories that would bring these two thugs here。 He'd talked to Guy and no one else。 Guy was utterly dependable。 Guy would never talk to anyone； especially the FBI。 It couldn't be Guy。
Guy used a cell phone from the mountains of eastern Paraguay。 There was no way the call could have been intercepted。
〃Are you there？〃 asked Two smartly。
〃Yeah；〃 he said； hearing but not hearing。
〃Where's Patrick？〃 asked One。
〃Maybe he's in Brazil。〃
〃Where in Brazil？〃
Stephano managed a shrug； a stiff one。 〃I dunno。 It's a big country。〃
〃We have an outstanding warrant for him；〃 One said。 〃He belongs to us。〃
Stephano shrugged again； this time a more casual one as if to say； 〃Big deal。〃
〃We want him；〃 demanded Two。 〃And now。〃 ； 〃I can't help you。〃
〃You're lying；〃 snarled One； and with that both of them joined together in front of Stephano's desk and glared down。 Agent Two did the talking。 〃We have men downstairs； outside； around the corner； and outside your home in Falls Church。 We'll watch every move you make from now until we get Lanigan。〃
〃Fine。 You can leave now。〃
〃And don't hurt him； okay？ We'll be happy to nail your ass if anything happens to our boy。〃
They left in step and Stephano locked the door behind them。 His office had no windows。 He stood before his map of the world。 Brazil had three red lights； which meant little。 His head shook slowly； in plete bewilderment。
He spent so much time and money covering his tracks。
His firm was known in certain circles as the best at taking the money and disappearing into the shadows。 He'd never been caught before。 No one ever knew who Stephano was stalking。
Three
ANOTHER SHOT to rouse him。 Then a shot to desensitize the nerves。
The door opened loudly and the room was suddenly lit。 It filled with the voices of many men； busy men； all with a purpose； all with heavy feet； it seemed。 Guy gave orders； and someone growled in Portuguese。
Patrick opened and closed his eyes。 Then he opened them for good； as the drugs found their mark。 They hovered over him； busy hands everywhere。 His underwear was cut off； without much finesse； and he lay bare and exposed。 An electric razor began buzzing； hitting his skin sharply at points on the chest； groin； thighs； and calves。 He bit his lip and grimaced； his heart hammered away； though the pain had yet to start。
Guy hovered above him； his hands still but his eyes watching everything。
Patrick made no effort to speak； but just to be safe； more hands appeared from above and slapped a thick strip of silver …duct tape over his mouth。 Cold electrodes were stuck to the shaved points with alligator clips； and he heard a loud voice ask something about 〃current。〃 Tape was then applied over the electrodes。 He thought he counted eight sharp spots on his flesh。 Maybe nine。 His nerves were jumping。 In his darkness； he could feel the hands moving above him。 The tape stuck hard to skin。
Two or three men were busy in a corner； adjusting a device Patrick could not see。 Wires were strung like Christmas lights across his body。
They were not going to kill him； he kept telling himself； though death might be wele at some point in the next few hours。 He had imagined this nightmare a thousand times in four years。 He had prayed it would never happen； but he always knew it would。 He always knew they were back there； somewhere in the shadows； tracking and bribing and looking under rocks。
Patrick always knew。 Eva was too naive。
He closed his eyes； tried to breathe steadily and tried to control his thoughts as they scurried above him； preparing his body for whatever lay ahead。 The drugs made his pulse race and his skin itch。
I don't know where the money is。 I don't know where the money is。 He almost chanted this aloud。 Thank God for the tape across his mouth。 I don't know where the money is。
He called Eva every day between 4 P。M。 and 6 P。M。 Every day。 Seven days of the week。 No exceptions unless one was planned。 He knew in his pounding heart that she had moved the money by now； that it was safely hidden in two dozen places around the world。 And he didn't know where it was。
But would they believe him？
The door opened again； and two or three figures left the room。 The activity around his plywood cot was slowing。 Then it was quiet。 He opened his eyes and the IV drip bag was gone。
Guy was looking down at him。 He gently took one corner of the silver duct tape and pulled it free so Patrick could talk； if he so chose。
〃Thanks；〃 Patrick said。
The Brazilian doctor appeared again from the left and stuck a needle in Patrick's arm。 The syringe was long and filled with nothing but colored water； but how could Patrick know？
〃Where is the money； Patrick？〃 Guy asked。
〃I don't have any money；〃 Patrick replied。 His head ached from being pressed into the plywood。 The tight plastic band across his forehead was hot。 He hadn't moved in hours。
〃You will tell me； Patrick。 I promise you'll tell me。 You can do it now； or you can do it ten hours from now when you're half…dead。 Make it easy on yourself。〃
〃I don't want to die； okay？〃 Patrick said； his eyes filled with fear。 They will not kill me； he told himself。
Guy lifted a small； simple； nasty device from beside Patrick and displayed it close to his face。 It was a chrome lever with a black rubber tip； mounted on a small square block with two wires running from it。 〃See this；〃 Guy said； as if Patrick had a choice。 〃When the le