“Nicos is going down to Nalsara?” Lassiter repeated. “You’re certain, Cambry? No mistake?”
“No mistake,” Cambry said. “He was foaming at the mouth and finally decided that Brukman wasn’t good enough and that he wanted the pleasure of the kill himself. I believe you pissed him off, Lassiter. This isn’t good, is it?”
“Hell no. When?”
“I’d say soon. As I said, he’s foaming. He called back ten minutes later and told Brukman that he might have the day or two he wanted but not to count on it. And that he’d kill him if he let Patrick die before he got down there. So what am I supposed to do?”
“The same as you’ve been doing. But talk to Father Dominic and see if there’s any other hiding place we could tap if we have to get Patrick out of the monastery in a hurry. And you’d better have the sentry who’s keeping watch on Nalsara be on alert and report any sign that they’ve been given orders to leave the detention camp and start a search. Just in case Nicos calls anyone at the camp but Brukman. And I’ll phone Dr. Armando and see if there’s any chance at all we can get Patrick out by helicopter in the next day or so.” He hung up and turned to Mandell in the pilot seat next to him. “You heard. Not good. Nicos is not going back to his island; he’ll be going to Nalsara. And he’s going to be right on top of us if we can’t get Patrick out.”
“Then you’d better come up with something to take care of it,” Mandell said. “Please make it interesting. What do you do first?”
Lassiter got to his feet. “First, I go back in the other cabin and try to convince Margaret to stay in Bogotá when we land and not take that helicopter to Nalsara.”
*
“No way,” Margaret said flatly. “I told you I wouldn’t let you hide me away, Lassiter.”
“We may all be running and hiding if we can’t move Patrick before Nicos gets down there. The situation has changed. Stay in Bogotá, Margaret.”
“You said we might have one or two days before Nicos is on the move. That might be enough time.” She shook her head. “Yes, the situation changed and you’ll change with it. It’s what you do. I sent you a name on Salva’s call directory and you used it to get Patrick free. You got me away from Nicos. You’ll find a way to make this work for us. Well, just include me in your planning, because I’m going to be there.”
His lips tightened. “Margaret…”
“Discussion’s over. Start planning, Lassiter.”
San Gabriel’s Monastery
The dawn was breaking, but the trees in the rain forest were so dense that it still appeared night as Mandell drove the van through the gates of the monastery and into the courtyard. “Everything seems quiet enough, Lassiter,” he said. “No word must have trickled down here yet from Montego. There’s been no report of any action at the detention camp. And this place is as peaceful as when we left it.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s going to stay that way. We’re going to have to get ready to move fast and hard.”
“Fine. That’s what I’ve been waiting for since we came down here.” He parked in front of the arched oak doorway, jumped out, and helped Margaret out of the van. “And maybe Cambry actually did a good job of filling in for us. Though I hate to admit that the team could get along without me. I think I’ll just go talk to a few of my men and check on progress while you two go see Patrick.”
“That seems to be a good plan,” Lassiter said drily. “And it would keep you from having to hobnob with Father Dominic or any of these monks who are being so good to Patrick.”
He shrugged. “It’s just better if I avoid them. I was a little too aggressive with Father Dominic, and that won’t make me very welcome. Besides, by now they’ve probably talked enough to my guys on the team to get a fix on my place in it. They’ll know who I am and what I do.” His lips twisted. “Though Father Dominic saw right through me from the beginning.”
“It didn’t help that you were carrying that rifle that looks like it’s a part of you.”
“It is a part of me. And that’s what the good father saw. Look, these monks are good people and it’s hard for them to know how to deal with someone like me. They don’t generally teach it as a course in theology.” Mandell strolled across the courtyard toward the gates. “Besides, I need to go back to that detention camp and make sure my guy was right about there not being any activity.”
“Be careful,” Lassiter said sharply.
He waved a casual hand. “Always.”
Margaret frowned as she watched him walk away. “He doesn’t like the monks?”
“It’s not a question of liking or disliking.” He opened the door for her. “As he said, it’s the comfort level. I told you that Mandell was a great sniper.”
She nodded. “Over a thousand yards.”
“But that’s a purely clinical assessment. Mandell was the golden boy. Whenever there was a shot to be taken … or a man to be killed, the military called on Nick Mandell.”
A man to be killed. The words came as a shock to Margaret. Lassiter was right: She had been thinking too clinically. A sniper was trained to kill. Mandell had been trained to be the highest form of killer.
“Yes, but it was his duty to his country.”
“But somewhere along the way, you can get confused with duty and the sheer excitement of being the best, of taking that next perfect shot.” He wasn’t looking at her as he led her through the halls. “Particularly if you’re as good as Mandell.”
Her eyes were narrowed on his face. “You know what that feels like.”
“I’ve had my share of kills,” he said. “Yeah, I know how he feels. That’s why I hired Mandell when he decided to get out of the service.”
“From what I’ve seen lately, it doesn’t seem that different,” Margaret said. “Unless you just pay more.”
“Oh, I pay more, but it’s definitely different,” he said grimly. “There’s no way that Mandell could quit cold turkey. He’s too good. There would always be some agency that would need a killer as skilled as a Renaissance assassin. They’d offer him an impossible kill and he’d do it. When he works for me, he gets a taste now and then, but not enough to feed the addiction.”
She thought about it. Mandell’s wry humor, his easy, casual manner. “I … like him. He doesn’t seem like…”
“Did you expect him to be all brooding and morose? I don’t know what he feels inside. I wouldn’t ask him. Mandell made his choice a long time ago. He’s lived with that choice, but now he recognizes that the choice is starting to consume him. So he’s stepping away from it.”
“And from those monks, too? That could be a mistake. Forgiveness is a major part of religion. They might offer comfort and understanding.”
“Mandell doesn’t think so. These monks are pretty unsophisticated. It would take a good deal of forgiving and understanding.” He paused. “Mandell has eighty-two confirmed kills.”