Joseph Finder - Power Play

"Only three places a diabetic normally injects insulin," I said. "What's your place?"

"My-my stomach-but we don't have time for this, Jake."

I grabbed his shirt, yanked out the tails.

His smooth, pale belly. Not a mark.

His eyes were keen.

I dropped the shirt. "You told Russell to kill Danziger, didn't you?"

He swallowed. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"John knew. He'd figured out you contacted Russell through some old buddy of yours who ran a security firm Russell used to work for. So Danziger had to die, isn't that right, you son of a bitch? Grogan, too."

He glanced at the door. Maybe he was expecting Russell or Russell's brother to save him. Turning back, he said, "Jake, this is insane. I'm trying to help us. You're wasting time we don't have."

"That's true," I said, and I took out the revolver and placed it against his forehead.

"Jesus!" he gasped. "What the hell is this? Put that thing down now!"

"All to get rich, huh?"

"Jake, where'd you get that gun? Get that damned thing off of me!"

I pressed the end of the gun barrel harder into the pasty skin of his forehead. I could see the red mark it left. His eyes welled with tears.

"But I'm thinking it was more complicated than that. You stole money from the company, put it in some 'special purpose entity' offshore. But then the investment tanked, right? And you had to cover the loss, fast. Something like that?"

"Will you please put that gun down?" he whispered. "That thing could go off if you're not careful! Are you crazy? I'm trying to get us help, Jake."

"You needed to come up with a hundred million dollars somewhere. You were desperate."

"Who is putting these insane ideas in your head? Is it Bodine? Slattery?"

"I don't think you meant for things to happen the way they did today," I said. "You didn't hire Russell to hold the company up for half a billion dollars, did you? That was his idea. You were totally clear in your instructions, I'm sure. A hundred million, right? You told him to make sure it looked like he and his guys were just some backwoods hunters who got the bright idea to take a bunch of businessmen hostage, hold them up for ransom."

He stared at me, frantic. His eyes were brown, trusting: child's eyes.

I jammed the end of the barrel harder against his temple, and he gasped. "You knew Russell had a lot of experience in situations like this, but you didn't do your due diligence, did you?" Then, even more softly: "You didn't want people to die, did you, Geoff? Tell me that wasn't part of the plan."

Tears spilled down his scrubbed red cheeks.

"No," he whispered. His face seemed to crumple. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this."

"How was it supposed to happen?"

But Latimer didn't answer. He closed his eyes. His lower lip trembled.

"What's that you like to say-pigs get slaughtered?"

"No!" he cried. "It wasn't for me! I never made a dime!"

"So how was it supposed to happen?" I whispered. "Russell's guys would hold the company up for a hundred million dollars, then let us all go free? They'd get their cut, and you'd cover your loss? And no one would find out about the money you embezzled from Hammond? Was that how it was supposed to go down?" I grabbed his bony shoulder, shoved him toward the door.

"Please, Jake, do you think I had any idea what was going to happen?"

"Thing is, Geoff, you still don't," I said as I pushed him down the hall.

I shoved Latimer into the great room, the revolver at his back.

Russell stood behind Ali, an arm around her neck, his Glock to her temple. He didn't need to say anything: He had a gun to Ali's head and wouldn't hesitate to kill her if it suited his purposes.

I had Latimer, the man who'd hired Russell, but he was only useful if Russell still needed him at this point. And that I didn't know.

I noticed Travis standing about ten feet to the side of his brother, his gun aimed directly at me. The room blazed with light, every lamp switched on. I wished I'd taken the time to shut off the generator, as I'd planned to before Russell had seized Ali. The cover of darkness could have been useful just then.

I tried to calculate the geometry of the situation, but there were too many unknowns. This much I knew for sure: It was two of them against me, and the only thing between Ali and her death was the twitch of a trigger finger.

Something struck my lower back, a supernova of pain exploding and radiating and doubling me over. I sprawled to the floor. For a moment, everything went white. I gasped, rolled over on to my side, saw who had kicked me from behind.

That jet-black hair and goatee, that towering physique, the pinkish face abraded and badly bruised. But otherwise the man wasn't much worse for wear.

"Well, what do you know," Buck said. "I had a feeling I'd be seeing you again."

Let her go, Russell," I said as I struggled to my feet, still clutching the Ruger.

"That your big idea, swapping Latimer for your girlfriend?" Russell said contemptuously. "Come on, buddy. I really don't care what happens to him at this point."

But Latimer had broken free anyway. He now stood between Travis and Buck, his bodyguards. His face was flushed, his eyes furious.

"You know, I really should have killed you first," Russell continued.

"That's all right," Buck said. "I'll do it for you. Happy to oblige."

Ali was staring at me. She seemed to be communicating silently; but what, if anything, was she trying to say? I saw the fierce resolve in her eyes: Maybe she was simply telling me not to worry about her, that she was fine, she was strong. But I already knew that.

Or maybe she was waiting for me to give her a signal, to tell her what to do.

I didn't know what to do.

I raised the pistol, moving it from man to man to man, aiming at each, one at a time. But Russell knew I'd never risk a shot at him. Not while he had his gun on Ali: his human shield. Even if my aim were perfect, it would take no more than a jerk of his finger on the trigger at the instant of his death, and she'd die, too.

"You have to take him out," Latimer said, his voice echoing. "He's the only one who knows anything now."

"I don't work for you anymore, Geoff," Russell said.

Both his brother and Buck had guns pointed at me. I wondered whether Travis would actually pull the trigger if Russell ordered him to. I had no doubt that Buck would.

"Actually, Russell, I don't think Geoff's really thought this through," I said. "See, you need me alive."

"Do I?" Russell sounded almost curious.

"If you want the Internet connection to work, anyway," I said. "You do want your money, don't you?"

"Ah." Russell nodded. "I see. Well, it's all hooked up now."

"No, Russell, it's not. One of your guys must have screwed up-cut the line."

Russell smiled.

Buck said, "Guy's bluffing, Russell."

"Don't take my word for it," I said. "Ask Geoffrey."

"How's the satellite working, Geoff?" said Russell.

Latimer hesitated a few seconds. "Something's wrong with it. I couldn't get connected. He must have done something."

"Should have brought your A team on this job," I said. "Sloppy. You see, Russell, I worked as a cable installer once for a couple of months. Not one of my favorite jobs, but I guess you never know when a skill might come in handy."

I waited a beat, but Russell didn't reply. "Call me crazy, but I've got a feeling you're not really an expert in splicing RG-6 coaxial cable."

Silence.

"How about you, Buck?" I said. "Or you, Travis?"

Silence.

"Didn't think so. The handyman sure isn't. Ask him. Guy can probably do anything with a boat or a generator or a busted dishwasher, but when the satellite goes down, I'll bet you the manager gets on the sat phone and calls the satellite company. You planning on calling the cable company, Russell? Ask for a service call, maybe? Wait a couple days for them to get all the way out here?"