Robert Tanenbaum - Malice

"I thought there was only one copy according to that reporter's story," Ellis said.

Karp shrugged. "So did I, but this guy claims that a copy was made. Now he wants to give it to me. But I have to meet him in person at the park, tonight at midnight."

Ellis looked thoughtful, then nodded. "So what do you need from me?" he asked. "Obviously, we're itching to take Jamys Kellagh down."

Karp grinned. "I thought you might be interested. And to be honest, except for my man Fulton here, I'm not sure who I can trust to provide security."

Ellis grinned back. "Well, if you can't trust Homeland Security, then who can you trust?" His face turned serious. "Forgive me if this is out of line, and I asked your daughter this once before, but what about Jaxon? I know he's out of the agency, but he's a friend and, heck, he probably has more firepower and technology as a private guy than I do with the government."

Karp looked troubled, then sighed. "You're right. I've known him for years and I've always liked him. And I'm not saying he can't be trusted. But considering some of the unanswered questions, I'd like to leave him out of it for now."

"Of course," Ellis said. "I think he's one of the good guys, too, even if he went for the money. And hell, I've been involved in a lot of this, you could just as well put me in the same category."

"I've got to trust somebody," Karp replied. "This photograph could break this wide open. But I can't take a chance that it's a setup."

"Yeah, you've got to trust somebody," Ellis agreed. "It's too bad that in these times, you can never be sure who. It's a dirty business, though, when it makes friends suspicious of their friends."

The men stood to shake hands again, then Ellis left, saying he'd be in touch regarding the security arrangement. "With any luck," he said, "tonight we get our man."

A few minutes before midnight, Karp and Fulton pulled into the parking lot of East River Park near the Williamsburg Bridge.

"You ready?" Karp asked as they began to walk toward the bridge. "You gave him the envelope, right?"

Fulton nodded. "Yeah, but I still don't like this. It's too dangerous."

"So is Jamys Kellagh. We had to lure the tiger out of his cave."

"Yeah, but I don't like using you as the sacrificial goat."

Karp and Fulton walked along the path that followed the river, as had been arranged. Up ahead, they saw a tall figure step into the light beneath a streetlamp.

"Looks like him," Karp said.

"Looks like somebody else we know, too, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, yeah, except I'm a lot better-looking."

As they approached the tall man, Karp glanced around. With all the bushes and trees, there were a lot of places for assassins to hide. He noticed that two bums-one on a bench and the other against the seawall-were sleeping near where the tall man was standing. Dangerous for them, too, he thought, but there was no time to worry about it now.

"Mr. Karp," the tall man said, stepping forward with his hand extended.

"Mr. Karchovski," Karp replied. "You have something for me?"

"Yes," Ivgeny Karchovski said, handing him a large manila envelope.

"I'll take that," said another voice.

The three men turned to see Jon Ellis stepping out of the shadows with a gun drawn and pointing at them.

Karchovski started to turn as if to run, but put his hands up as other men also stepped out of the shadows with guns. He turned to Karp and snarled, "You betrayed me! I'll get you for this, Karp!"

Karp scowled and turned to Ellis. "I thought you were going to stay back and only show if I gave you the signal."

Ellis laughed. "What, hoot twice like an owl? You really are an idiot, Mr. Karp. But look at it this way, Myr shegin dy ve, bee eh. In case that brat daughter of yours, who by the way is simply going to have to disappear one of these days, hasn't told you, that means 'What must be, will be.' And what must be is a finish to your annoying habit of getting in our way."

Karp's jaw dropped. "Jamys Kellagh," he guessed.

Ellis gave a slight bow. "My nom de guerre, or one of them," he said. "But I prefer my anonymity, so if you will hand over the photograph, I'll make sure it never sees the light of day."

He reached for the envelope, but Karp pulled it back. "How do you live with yourself?" he asked.

Ellis was at first surprised and then amused. "I sleep like a baby, Mr. Karp," he replied. "There is a war going on and people die in wars."

"Is that what you call murdering schoolchildren to free a man like Andrew Kane? War?"

Ellis shrugged. "Collateral damage. It happens. Get over it, or you should have if you'd wanted to live. And what does it matter if a half dozen kids die, if it prevents the mud people, like your friend Clay here, and Jews, like yourself, and all those prehistoric Arabs from overrunning Western civilization?"

"But you're working with the terrorists?"

"A temporary measure," Ellis said with a shrug. "We will eventually, as the saying goes, 'bomb them back into the Stone Age.' But until then, we need them as the bogeymen. Every time they blow up something, Western democracy slides a little closer to our side of the political spectrum."

"So you're a fascist creep, too?" Karp chided.

"Now, now, name-calling is not nice." Ellis laughed. "We prefer thinking of ourselves as the true patriots. After all, this country was founded by white men."

"White men who created the Constitution so that all men could be free," Karp replied.

"And many of them had slaves," Ellis pointed out. "But let's not argue history. We believe the means are justified. We will do what's best for the American people…white American people. It's people like you who endanger this country, so we'll protect Americans from themselves and you."

Shaking his head, Karp replied, "Jon, you got it all backward. And when chicken-shit traitors like you get it wrong, you really get it wrong. And besides, who's going to protect the country from you?"

Ellis looked amused. "Why, no one, Mr. Karp. There will be no bleeding hearts, or constitutional apologists, to lead us all down the road to ruin." He pointed the gun at Karp's face. "But enough of this; give me the photograph."

"Why?" Karp said, holding the manila envelope over the water. "You have to kill us anyway. Maybe somebody finds this photograph in the river-I sealed it in a plastic bag-and takes it to the police. Why should I make it easy for you?"

"Oh, please, Butch, killing you is going to be very easy any way you look at it," Ellis said with a smile. "For one thing, you're a fucking Jew, and Hitler had the right idea about fucking Jews. And as for your Russian friend, they'll probably give me a medal for killing the gangster who lured you here and shot you in cold blood. I arrived too late to save you, or Clay for that matter, but I got the man who got you. Maybe Marlene will be real grateful. She's still pretty good-looking for her age."

Karp's shoulders sagged as he handed Ellis the envelope. "Check it out," he said.

"Oh, I will," Ellis replied, and glanced inside the envelope. He looked back up with a scowl. "What is this, Karp?" He reached inside the envelope and pulled out the yearbook photographs of six children.

"Those are the kids you had murdered," Karp said. "I wanted to show them to you before Clay placed you under arrest."

Ellis's face transformed instantly into a mask of rage and hate. "Fuck you, Karp," he said, and started to raise his gun, but then began to shake violently as the gun clattered to the sidewalk. He collapsed to the ground, where he twitched and then lay still.

At the same time, the men with Ellis who'd started to rush forward to help him were suddenly surrounded by other men with guns, shouting for them to drop their weapons. Karp turned to the bum behind him, who kept a Taser pointed at Ellis. "Cutting it a little close, weren't you, Espey?" he said.