Jeff Abbott - Panic

He could not negotiate if they all thought he was dead.

It was answered on the first ring. ‘Yes?’ He knew the voice, his soft psychotic purr. Dezz.

‘Let me speak to Jargo.’ Evan held the PDA close enough to record every word.

‘No one here by that name.’

‘Shut up, Dezz. Let me talk to Jargo. Now.’

Three beats of silence. ‘Put ourselves back together, have we?’

‘Tell your father I have all of Mr. Khan’s files relating to the Deeps. All of them. I’d like to negotiate a trade for my father.’

‘How’s Carrie? Blown to bits? I’m sorry I wasn’t in London to help you pick up the pieces.’ He stifled a giggle.

‘You say another word to me, freak, and I e-mail the client list to the CIA, to the FBI, to Scotland Yard. You’re not calling the shots. I am.’

Silence for a long moment, and Dezz said with icy politeness, ‘Hold, please.’

He imagined Dezz and Jargo, seeing Khan’s number on a cell phone screen, knowing now about the explosion and weighing if Evan was telling the truth.

‘Yes? Evan? You’re well?’ Jargo. Sounding concerned.

‘I’m fine. I have a proposal for you.’

‘Your father is worried sick about you. Where are you?’

‘Deep in the rabbit hole. And I have Thomas Khan’s laptop. From his hiding place in Bromley. With all his files.’

A long pause. ‘Congratulations. I for one find spreadsheets boring.’

‘Give me back my father, and I’ll give you your laptop, and then we’re walking away from each other.’

‘But files can be duplicated. I don’t know that I can trust you.’

‘You have no room to question my integrity, Mr. Jargo. None. I know about Goinsville, I know about Alexander Bast, I know he set up the original Deep network.’ All bluff; he wasn’t sure how any of this fit together, but he had to pretend that he knew. ‘I have Khan’s laptop and I’m giving it to you. Not to the police. Not to the press. All I want is my dad. You either take the deal or you don’t. I can tear the Deeps apart in five minutes with what I’ve got.’

‘May I speak to Mr. Khan?’ Jargo asked.

‘No, you may not.’

‘Is he alive?’

‘No.’

‘Well. Did you kill him or did the CIA?’

‘I’m not playing twenty questions with you. Do we have a deal or do I go to the CIA?’

‘Evan. I understand you’re upset. But I didn’t want Khan dead. I didn’t want you dead.’ A pause. ‘If you’ve got Internet access, I’d like to show you a tape. To prove my point.’

‘A tape.’

‘Khan had a digital camera in his business. Did a constant feed to a remote server. We take a lot of precautions in our line of work, you understand. I just accessed the server. I can prove to you it was a known CIA operative who set off the blast. His name was Marcus Pettigrew. I suspect the CIA saw a way to get rid of you and Khan all at once, nice and neat.’

Evan remembered seeing a set of small cameras mounted in the corners near the bookstore’s ceiling. He said what he thought Jargo would expect him to say, ‘So what? So I can’t trust the CIA. It doesn’t mean that I can trust you.’

‘Watch the tape,’ Jargo said, ‘before you make up your mind.’

‘Hold on.’ Staying on the phone, Evan walked down the stairs from his room to the hotel’s business center. It was empty. He fired up a gleaming new PC, set up a new e-mail account at Yahoo! under an invented name, and gave Jargo the new e-mail account’s address. After a minute the attached film clip appeared in the in-box. Evan clicked it. Saw himself, from above and to the left, come in and talk to Khan. Khan and then Evan went offscreen, and here came Pettigrew. Flipping the CLOSED sign. Murdering two people. Leaning down to touch his briefcase. Then nothing.

‘I’m not really into eviscerating my own network,’ Jargo said. ‘The CIA would be, however.’

‘You could have doctored that tape.’

‘Evan. Please. First Gabriel, now Pettigrew. Your friend Bricklayer sent you right into that death trap. Kill two birds with one stone, you and Khan. I’m not your enemy, Evan. Far from it. You’ve fallen in with the wrong crowd, to put it mildly, and I’ve been trying to save your ass.’

Bricklayer… he knows Bedford’s code name. He hated the oily concern that failed to hide the arrogance in Jargo’s voice.

‘That tape doesn’t lie. Now who do you believe?’ Jargo asked.

‘I want to talk to my dad.’ Evan put a calculated quaver of doubt in his voice.

‘That’s an excellent idea, Evan.’

Silence. And then his father’s voice: ‘Evan?’ He sounded tired, weak. Beaten.

Alive. His father was truly alive. ‘Dad. Oh, Jesus, Dad, are you okay?’

‘Yes. I’m all right. I love you, Evan.’

‘I love you, too.’

‘Evan… I’m sorry. Your mother. You. I never meant for you to get dragged into this mess. It was always my worst nightmare.’ Mitchell’s voice sounded near tears. ‘You don’t understand the whole story.’

He knew Jargo was listening. Pretend you believe him. It’s the only way Jargo will give you Dad. But not too fast, or Jargo won’t buy it. He had to play his own father. He tried hard to keep his voice steady. ‘No, Dad, I sure as hell don’t understand.’

‘What counts is that I can keep you safe, Evan. I need you to trust Jargo.’

‘Dad, even if Jargo didn’t kill Mom, he kidnapped you. How can I trust this guy?’

‘Evan. Listen carefully to me. Your mother went to the CIA, and the CIA killed her. I don’t know why she did it, but she did, thinking they would hide her, hide you. But they killed her,’ his voice broke, then steadied, ‘and now they’ve used you to try to draw me and Jargo out.’

‘Dad…’

‘Jargo and Dezz weren’t at our house. It was the CIA. Anything else you’ve been told is a lie. Believe your eyes. That CIA agent in London tried to kill you. There’s no plainer evidence. I want you to do what Jargo says. Please.’

‘I don’t think I can do that, Dad. He killed Mom. Do you understand that? He killed her!’ He gave his father an abbreviated account of his arrival at home.

‘But you never saw their faces.’

‘No… I never saw their faces.’ He let three seconds tick by, thought, Make Jargo think you want to believe Dad, you want to believe worse than anything, so this horror will all be over. ‘I saw Mom, and then I freaked, and they put a bag over my head.’

Mitchell’s voice was patient. ‘I can tell you it was not Dezz and Jargo, it wasn’t.’

‘How can you be sure, Dad?’

‘I am. I am absolutely sure they didn’t kill your mom.’

Start acting dumb. ‘I just heard voices.’

‘In the most horrifying moment of your life, you might make a mistake, Evan. Jargo might threaten you to get cooperation, but it’s easier than explaining to you. But he really wouldn’t hurt you. They shot at Carrie at the zoo. Not you.’

Not true, but Jargo had fed his father a matched set of lies. He didn’t argue the point. Now for confusion. ‘But Carrie said-’

‘Carrie betrayed your trust. She played you, son. I’m sorry.’

He let the silence build before he spoke. ‘You’re right.’ Forgive me, Carrie, he thought. ‘She wasn’t honest with me, Dad. Not from day one.’

Mitchell cleared his throat. ‘Never mind her. All that matters is getting you here with me. Are you safe from the CIA right now?’

‘To them, I’m dead.’

‘Then bring Jargo the files. We’ll be together. Jargo will let you and me talk, work out what happens next.’

Evan lowered his voice. ‘Say nothing. I have the laptop, but I can’t get past its password. I’ve never seen these files Jargo wants. I’m not a threat to him.’ He knew Jargo was drinking in every word.