Джеймс Паттерсон - Private Rogue

Next to me, Andreyev’s car hit a patch of ice, skidded and came to a crashing stop against a tree. I pulled off the road up ahead of him and jumped out as he emerged from the car. He was dazed but he had a pistol in his hand.

I ran at him. He fired wildly. He tried to adjust but was bleeding into one eye, struggling to focus. I reached him before he corrected his aim, and drove my shoulder into his gut. We both crashed against the back door of the Porsche. He brought the gun down on my neck but I stood firm, instinctively fighting the blank pull of unconsciousness. I swung a punch that connected with his chin.

Another gunshot, this one close to my ear. The world screamed, but I ignored the pain and drove a left cross into his nose. He crumpled and I followed up with a combination of jabs and a hook that sent him to the ground.

He dropped the gun and tried to crawl away through the snow, whining like a wounded animal. I picked up his pistol and held it against his head.

“It’s over, Victor,” I said. “It’s over.”

He rolled onto his back and looked at me with hate-filled eyes.

I kept the gun trained on him as I walked over to the Porsche. I leaned through the open driver’s door, reached past the burst airbags, and picked up the Bull from the driver’s footwell.

“You traded it all for nothing,” I said, walking back toward him. “Your people should never have picked such a common object to store your data. This is a replica I bought on Wall Street first thing this morning.”

I tossed the Bull into the snow. Andreyev’s face twisted in despair.

“The original is on its way to people who will know how to decode it. People in the US Government.”

His head dropped. He looked utterly defeated. I leaned against the Porsche and kept the gun on him as I listened to the sound of approaching sirens.

The sound of the tray crashing to the floor set Beth’s heart racing. She hadn’t been the same since the abduction, but she was getting better. She looked at Josh, who smiled and reached across the table to take her hand. They were in Al’s BBQ Shack, a family restaurant in Shrub Oak that was popular with parents because there was an indoor play area and ball pit. It wasn’t Beth’s idea of a great restaurant, but the kids loved it and were off playing with some friends they’d bumped into.

Loud chatter filled the air, along with the clatter of cutlery and the sounds of people eating. Beneath it all, a bedrock of music that never stopped. It was a brash, loud place and all Beth wanted was peace and quiet, but right now she thought the kids deserved every treat they could get.

“My head is ringing,” Josh said with a smile.

“Tell me about it,” Beth agreed.

“I love you,” he said.

Suddenly none of the crashing noise or hustle and bustle seemed quite so bad. The thought of never seeing him again, the memory of what had happened to them, that was true horror. Every day since then had been bliss.

“I love you too.”

The kids came running over and pointed out an approaching waiter.

“Is that our food?” Danny asked.

“Looks like it,” Josh replied. “Shuffle in.”

Maria slid into the booth next to Josh and Danny sat beside Beth. She beamed at her family, feeling the warmth of contentment precisely because she knew how close they’d come to losing everything that mattered.

“Looks good,” Josh said, as the waiter served their meals.

“Two burgers, a hickory chicken and two large ribs.”

“Ribs, here,” Floyd said. “Beth’s having the chicken, and the kids have got the burgers.”

“And the last ribs?” the waiter asked.

“Those are mine,” Ted Eisner said, sidling up behind him. “Don’t you just love it when that happens? You come back from the bathroom and the food is right there. Shift up, youngster.”

He nudged Danny along the bench and the waiter set the platter in front of him.

“You’ve got sauces and wipes, so you should be all set.”

“Thanks,” Floyd responded as the waiter withdrew. “Dig in, everyone.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” Ted said. He popped a French fry in his mouth. “I hope I’m not cramping your family outing.”

“Not at all,” Floyd assured him.

“Besides, you’re paying,” Beth added with a smile.

“She’s kidding,” Floyd said. “It’s on us. It’s the least we can do after—”

“Don’t even go there,” Ted interrupted. “You’d have done the same, and the insurance paid out for a brand new car, so we’re all square.” He sucked at a rib. “This is good.”

Beth nodded and smiled at Floyd. “It really is. As good as it gets.”

I didn’t think I’d ever had a highball that tasted this good. I took another sip and relished the peaty undertones of the single malt.

“What time is he coming?” Mo-bot asked.

It didn’t matter whether you were grand or low-born: if Mo wasn’t in the mood for something, she wouldn’t hide it. And right now, all she wanted was to be on a plane to Los Angeles.

“Eight,” Jessie replied. “He said he’d be here at eight. Right, Jack?”

I nodded. Jessie had been at my side for much of the past two weeks, helping coordinate our response with federal law enforcement. The implications of what we’d discovered on Roslov’s Bull were profound.

The technology alone was priceless, and so, it seemed, were the secrets it contained. Sci had only been able to decipher a tiny fraction of the data stored on the bronze, but it was enough. His refrain for weeks had been, “Heck of a thing.”

He said it now. “Heck of a thing. I wish I could have had it a little longer.”

I’d insisted on handing it to the one man I believed I could trust — the man we were about to meet — Secretary of State Eli Carver.

Justine squeezed my hand and I smiled at her. She responded with a sweet grin. We’d hit some turbulence following the car chase with Andreyev. She felt it was an unnecessary risk — Floyd, Beth and the children were all safe, and we had the original Bull — why risk my life capturing Andreyev? But I couldn’t let him get away, not after all the pain he’d caused. For Roni Alvarez, for Jim Taft, I had to get justice. I think she accepted that I’d never be one of those guys who could sit back and let others deal with problems. I had to get involved, and when I did, I would give it my all.

“He’s here,” Justine said, and I looked at the door to the Library Bar. A squad of Secret Service agents entered and fanned out as they scoped the place out. Conversation hushed and the patrons of the split-level bar watched to see what would happen next. Moments later, Eli Carver strode in. If he was aware every eye in the place was on him, he seemed unfazed by the attention.

He slid onto the bench seat opposite me.

“Jack Morgan. I just want to shake your hand,” he said, leaning across the table.

I took his hand and he wrapped both of his around mine for a warm, clasped shake.

“Where do I begin? This country owes you and your team a great debt. Rick Ferguson led us to two double agents he’d recruited within the Pentagon. You were right to be paranoid, Jack. There were more moles. Victor Andreyev has offered to turn on his former employers. He’s probably the highest-value asset we’ve flipped since Maxim Yenen.”

He looked at my team and held their gazes one by one. This guy was a master politician. He knew how to make people feel important.

“And the bull, the Charging Bull. The technology... I mean, wow! But the data — Roslov was running a huge network. Political interference, financing radical groups, bribing officials, buying influence around the world. We found three senators on his list and the details of every single payment he’s ever made to them. No wonder the Russians were prepared to go to such lengths to get it back. We’re in the process of dismantling or monitoring what we believe to be somewhere in the region of half their foreign intelligence activity.”