Iris Johansen - Deadlock

"How perceptive," Garrett said. "Something's pretty damn lousy."

"And you want me to be Superman and set the world right for you," Pauley said. "Would you like to tell me how?"

"We have the make and model of a car. We even have the license-plate number. We just don't know exactly where it is."

"Call the Russian version of the highway patrol?"

"No."

"I was afraid that was going to be your answer. What am I sup¬posed to do?"

"Hijack one of the military satellites that we still have focused on Russia and zoom into the area and locate that car." "Hell, no."

Garrett ignored him. "And it has to be quick and not detectable. We can't have a SEAL team parachuting down and trying to take us out." "Impossible." "Not for Superman."

"If I got caught, I'd not only be thrown into prison for the rest of my life, but I'd probably have to do slave labor at my computer for the government. That's a fate worse than death."

"Can you do it?"

He didn't speak for a moment, then said reluctantly, "Yes, there are a few satellites that were sent up in the eighties that didn't have so¬phisticated security apparatus. I've played around with them a little. But I won't do it."

"Name your price. You want to retire anc

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problem."

Pauley shook his head. "It's too hot, Garrett."

"Please, Pauley." Emily was standing in the doorwi. Irana, will be hurt," she said unevenly. "We have to find

Pauley gazed at her in frustration. "I don't want to d It's going to be difficult as hell and not worth-

"He'll hurt her, Pauley."

And Emily was hurting right now, Garrett thought. She looke most as pale and fragile as she had the night that Garrett had taken away from Staunton. He desperately wanted to reach out, help her, comfort her.

Evidently Pauley was having the same reaction.

"Oh, shit." He got out of the car. "Give me the information you have, Garrett. How much time do I have?"

"As little as you can get by with. Emily's right, it's a nasty situation."

"Life or death? I don't like that kind of responsibility." He headed for the door. "It won't be hard finding a satellite that can do the job but I have to get in and get out fast. Do we have any general idea where the car is located?"

Garrett shook his head. "Maybe a hundred miles in any direction from Moscow." "Great."

"Thank you, Pauley," Emily said.

"Thank me when I find the damn car." Pauley added gloomily, "Or when they tote me away to Leavenworth." He disappeared into the house.

"Will he be able to do it?" Emily asked Garrett.

"Yes."

"Will it be in time?"

"Maybe. I won't lie to you. It's going to be hard." He turned to Dardon. "Go in and give him a description of that car down to the size of the hubcaps."

Dardon nodded. "Hell, I'll even make his coffee for him."

Emily sat down on the doorstep and linked her arms around her knees. Garrett could see the tension that locked every muscle of her upper body. Again, he felt that urge to do anything he could to com¬fort her. But she wouldn't accept comfort. Not now, not from him. The only comfort he could offer either one of them would be to get Irana away from that bastard.

"I'll let you know as soon as Pauley makes some progress."

She nodded jerkily. "Please. I won't go inside. I don't want to dis¬turb him."

"You won't disturb him."

"I can't take the chance."

"Then I'll bring you a jacket. It's chilly."

"I'm not cold. I'll just wait here."

Wait. It wasn't only results from Pauley for which she was waiting, he knew. She was waiting for a call from Staunton.

He hoped to God Pauley came through before Staunton did.

"YOU'RE BEING VERY INTELLIGENT, Sister Irana," Staunton said as he pushed Irana into the small room at the very end of the ware¬house. "I always appreciate a guest who causes me so little trouble."

"I'm not a sister," Irana said. "I gave up the right to be called that a long time ago." She gazed down at the ropes binding her wrists. "And I'd be foolish to try to escape unless I had a chance to be successful."

"That's right, you would." He smiled. "But I expected… fear. Emily was afraid. She fought it like a tiger, but the fear was there."

"It's more courageous to fight if you're afraid. Emily is very brave."

His smile faded. "But not you. You're helpless, but I don't see-I don't believe I like you, Sister Irana."

She gazed at him steadily. "I can see that you don't. It doesn't dis¬turb me."

"I believe it would take a good deal to disturb you," he said softly. "What a challenge."

"Why would you want to bother? I'm not important to you. This isn't about me, is it? It's about Emily."

"But I don't want to cheat you of your share of attention. After all, you're the woman who is going to give me what I want."

"Why don't you leave Emily alone? She doesn't know anything. She would have told me if she did."

"Not necessarily. Maybe she doesn't like religious do-gooders any more than I do, Sister Irana."

She gazed at him without expression.

"No answer. No defense?"

"No, I was just wondering why you're prejudiced against people of faith. Did one of us hurt you?"

"They couldn't hurt me. I have nothing to do with any of you." I see.

"You don't see anything." He muttered a curse and reached for his phone. "I'm the one who does the hurting. I'm the one who gives the commands."

She tensed. "You're calling Emily?"

"Oh, that stirred you." He smiled maliciously. "Not yet. I want her to worry a little longer. Anticipation." He dialed. "No, I'm calling my old friend, Borg. It was Borg who arranged for your delivery here to me. He was planning on taking you in Morocco, but when he heard your call from Garrett, he had to adjust to the situation. He hurried out to the airport ahead of you and set the charge in the plane, then had a chat with your pilot. But it all worked out, didn't it?"

"Are you calling to congratulate him?"

"No, it's come to my attention that there has to be a change of agenda. I'll use Borg to accomplish it." He spoke into the phone. "Yes, everything is going splendidly here, Borg. Just checking to see if you're in Paris yet. That's good. Yes, go ahead with it. I look forward to hearing from you." He hung up and looked at Irana. "You see, I'm the one in control. I pull the strings. I give the orders. If I'd ordered Borg to kill you in Morocco, he would have done it. I own him." "Poor man. He must be truly tormented."

Staunton's lips tightened. "And you're a stupid bitch. You can't see anything but what you want to see." He drew a deep breath, then smiled brilliantly. "But there are ways to open your eyes. I look for¬ward to showing them all to you, Sister Irana."

"MY GOD," GARRETT WHISPERED, his gaze on Pauley's com¬puter monitor. The screen was filled with figures, equations that were constantly changing as Pauley's fingers were flying over the keys. "Is he as close as I think he is?" he murmured to Dardon. "It's only been six or seven hours."

"You told him to hurry," Dardon said. "He said he'd be quicker, but he has to build walls as he goes to keep anyone on another com¬puter from seeing what he's doing. He should be able to zoom in any minute."

"It can't come too soon. Firepower? Did you have any problem getting the heavy stuff we may need?"

"In Moscow? There are black-market munitions dealers all over the place. I picked it up a couple hours ago."

"Good." Garrett leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms across his chest, his gaze on that constantly changing computer moni¬tor. "Let it rip, Pauley…"

"GET UP." GARRETT LIFTED Emily to her feet. "You're stiff as a board. I told you to come in out of the cold."

"Pauley? It seems like it's been a long time." She was stiff, she real¬ized. She had been sitting huddled here for hours.