Дэвид Балдаччи - The Collectors

“What do they mean they want to meet?”

“They want you, me, Milton and Reuben to come.”

“So they can kill us?”

“Yes, so they can kill us. But if we don’t go, they’ll kill Caleb.”

“How do we know he’s not already dead?”

“At ten o’clock tonight they said they’d call and let him talk to us. That’s when they’ll tell us where and when the meeting is.”

Annabelle drummed her fingers on the worn steering wheel. “So what do we do?”

Stone studied the Capitol dome in the distance. “You play poker?”

“I don’t like to gamble,” she answered with a straight face.

“Well, Caleb’s their full house. So we need at least that or better to be able to play this hand. And I know where to get the cards we need.” However, Stone knew that his plan would test the limits of friendship to the max. Yet he had no choice. He punched in the number, which he knew by heart.

“Alex, this is Oliver. I need your help. Badly.”

Alex Ford sat forward in his chair at the Secret Service’s Washington Field Office.

“What’s going on, Oliver?”

“It’s a long story, but you need to hear it all.”

When Stone finished, Ford sat back and let out a long breath. “Damn.”

“Can you help us?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I’ve got a plan.”

“I hope you do. It sounds like we don’t have much time to pull this together.”

Albert Trent left Capitol Hill that evening and drove home. Leaving Route 7, he followed the meandering back roads to his isolated neighborhood. He slowed as he approached the last turn before his driveway. A pickup truck had run off the road and hit something. An ambulance and a utility truck were there along with a police car. A uniformed cop was standing in the middle of the road. Trent drove cautiously ahead until the policeman stepped forward with his hand up. Trent rolled down his window and the cop leaned in.

“I’m going to have to ask you to turn around, sir. That truck skidded off the road and hit an aboveground natural gas pressure regulator and caused a major surge in the pipes. Damn lucky he didn’t blow himself and the neighborhood sky-high.”

“But I live right around the bend. And I don’t have gas in my house.”

“Okay, I’ll need to see some ID with your address on it.”

Trent dug into his jacket pocket and handed the officer his driver’s license. The cop hit it with his flashlight and then handed it back.

“All right, Mr. Trent.”

“How soon will they fix it?”

“That’s a question for the gas company. Oh, one more thing.”

He reached his other hand in the window and sprayed something from a small canister directly into Trent’s face. The man coughed once and slumped over in his seat.

On cue, out of the ambulance stepped Stone, Milton and Reuben. With the cop’s help Reuben lifted Trent out of the car and into another car that pulled forward, Annabelle at the wheel. Alex Ford emerged from the ambulance and handed Stone a leather canvas knapsack. “You need me to show you how to use it again?”

Stone shook his head. “I’ve got it. Alex, I know this is a stretch for you, and I really appreciate it. I didn’t know where else to turn.”

“Oliver, we’ll get Caleb back. And if this is the spy ring that people have been whispering about and we can bust it, you guys all deserve medals. When you get the call, let us know the details. I’ve got multiagency support on this. Just so you know, I didn’t have to beg for volunteers on this one because a lot of guys are itching to nail these bastards.”

Stone climbed into the car with the others.

“And now we play the hand,” Annabelle said.

“Now we play the hand,” Stone affirmed.

The call came at precisely ten o’clock. Stone and the rest of the group were in a downtown hotel suite. The man on the other end started to dictate the time and place to meet, but Stone cut him off.

“We’re not going to do that. We have Albert Trent. You want him back, then we’ll do an exchange on our terms.”

“That is not acceptable,” the voice said.

“Fine, then we turn your buddy over to the CIA and they can ‘coax’ the truth out of him, including naming names, and believe me, what I’ve seen of Trent, it won’t take long. You won’t even have time to pack a bag before the FBI knocks down your door.”

“Do you want your friend to die?” the man snapped.

“I’m telling you how they both can live, and you can avoid going to prison for the rest of your life.”

“How do we know this isn’t a trick?”

“How do I know you’re not planning to put a bullet into me when I show up? Simple, we have to trust each other.”

There was a long pause. “Where?”

Stone told him where and when.

“Do you realize what tomorrow will be like down there?”

“That’s why I picked it. We’ll see you at noon. And one more thing: If you harm Caleb, I will kill you personally.” Stone clicked off and turned to the others.

Milton looked fearful but determined. Reuben was examining the contents of the leather pack Alex Ford had given them. Annabelle’s gaze was directly on Stone.

Stone went over to Reuben. “How’s it look?”

He held up two syringes and two bottles of liquid. “Amazing stuff, Oliver. What will they think of next?”

Stone walked into the adjoining room, where an unconscious Albert Trent was strapped to the bed. Stone stood there, fighting a strong impulse to attack the sleeping man who’d caused them all such pain.

A minute later he rejoined the others. “Tomorrow will be a long day, so we need to get some sleep. We’ll run two-hour shifts watching Trent. I’ll take the first one.”

Milton immediately curled up on the couch while Reuben lay down on one of the double beds. Both men were asleep within a few minutes. Stone went back into the other room, sat down in a chair next to Trent and stared at the floor. He jerked when Annabelle pulled up a chair beside his and handed him a cup of coffee she’d made. She was still dressed in jeans and a sweater, but her feet were bare. She curled one long leg under her as she sat down.

He thanked her for the coffee and added, “You should get some sleep.”

“I’m more of a night person, actually.” She glanced at Trent. “So what are the odds of everything going perfectly tomorrow?”

“Zero,” Stone answered. “It’s always zero. Then you do all you can to beat that number, but sometimes it’s out of your hands.”

“You speak from experience, don’t you?”

“What else do you speak from?”

“Bullshit, like most people, but not you.”

He sipped his coffee and stared off. “Alex Ford is a good man. I’d go into battle with him anytime. I have, in fact. We actually have a decent shot at doing this clean.”

“I want to kill that little creep,” she said, watching the unconscious Trent.

Stone nodded and ran his gaze over the man. “He looks like a mouse, a desk jockey, which is exactly what he is, to most people. Wouldn’t hurt a fly. He just gets other people to do it for him, and this cruelty has no limit because he doesn’t have to see it or dirty his hands. Because of people like him, our country has been put at great risk.”

“All for money?”

“I’ve known some to claim it was about a cause, about following their beliefs, even about the excitement, but it’s always really about the money.”

She eyed him curiously. “You’ve known other traitors?”

He glanced sideways at her. “Why do you find any of this interesting?”

“I find you interesting.” When he remained silent, she said, “We were talking about other traitors?”