Patterson, James - Alex Cross 14 - Cross Country

He was either scared or a good little actor-or maybe he was both.

Sampson was in the bedroom behind her now. Neither of them drew a weapon; not that they trusted the boy for a second.

Bree had a hand on her piece.

“Tell me what you know about this,” she said.

She and Sampson approached the window from opposite angles. Bree moved in first. She had to duck her head to get inside the dormer alcove.

From here, she could see that the boy had his feet on a lip of decorative brickwork outside.

Beneath that was the roof of the back porch, and a small, November-dead garden maybe ten feet below.

“No further,” the boy warned, “or I run away. I can run very fast. You never catch me.”

“Okay. Let me get this out of the way, though.”

The old rope-and-pulley window sash took some coaxing, but finally Bree forced it up about six inches.

“What are you doing out there?” she asked.

“I know how it happened. They kill the girl and boy in dis very room. The others down de hall.”

His accent was African. Nigerian was Bree's guess.

“How do you know so much?” she asked. “Why should I believe you?”

“I am the lookout, but soon they will make me go with them to kill others.” He looked past Bree and Sampson to the scene inside. “I do not want to do dis. Please-I am Cat'lie.”

“It's all right,” Bree told him, “You don't have to hurt anyone. I'm Catholic too. Why don't you come down from there, and we can-”

“No” He took a hand off again, threatening to jump and run. “Don't try nah tricks on me!”

“Okay, okay.” Bree held up her hands, palms out. Then she knelt down a little closer. “Just talk to me. Tell me more. What's your name?”

“Benjamin.”

“Benjamin, do you know anything about a man they call the Tiger? Was he here?” Alex had told her about the Tiger during their phone call. Supposedly the killer was in Africa now, but maybe Alex's information was wrong.

The boy nodded slowly. “I know, yes.” Then he said, “More than one, though. Not just one Tiger.”

That certainly stunned Bree-and she assumed it would surprise the hell out of Alex too.

“Many men are called the Tiger?” she asked. “You're sure about that?”

Another nod from the boy.

“Here in Washington?”

“Yes. Maybe two or three.”

“And in Nigeria?”

“Yes.”

“How many Tigers, Benjamin? Do you know?” “They do not tell me, but there are many. Bosses of gangs are all Tigers.”

Bree looked over her shoulder at Sampson, then back again at the boy. “Benjamin, do you want to hear a secret?”

The question seemed to confuse him. His eyes went from side to side; he looked down again, checking his escape route.

And when he did that, Bree moved. Fast! Much faster than Benjamin thought she could.

Cross Country

Chapter 65

SHE REACHED IN through the bars and got her hand around the lookout's skinny wrist.

“Sampson, go!”

“Let go of me!” the boy yelled at her.

He tried to step away, and his weight wrenched her arm against the bar. There was no leverage from this angle. She could only try to ignore the pain, and hold on until Sampson got to the boy from below. Hurry, John, I'm losing him!

“Benjamin, we can keep you safe. You need to come with us.”

He screamed at her. “No, fuckin' bitch! You lied to me!”

His transformation was startling. The scared eyes had gone fierce. He clawed at her hand and drew blood. Had he lied to her? Was he one of the killers?

Finally, Bree could hear Sampson's feet pounding somewhere outside. Faster, John!

Just when she thought her arm might break-the kid twisted free. He dropped to the porch roof and all but bounced another eight feet to the ground.

Two quick strides and then he was scrambling up a small ash tree, barely big enough to support his weight, much less an adult's.

Just as Sampson came running around the back, the boy flipped sideways over the top of a high cedar fence into a service alley beyond.

Seconds later, Bree came out the front door.

There was no gate to the alley. They had to sprint back through the house, out another door, and around the block, Just to find out what they already knew: The boy named Benjamin was long gone.

The so-called lookout for the murders had gotten away from them.

Five minutes later, they had an APB out, but Bree wasn't holding her breath. Her thoughts had already turned to Alex, and how to reach out to him.

“He needs to know about this. Like, last week. Only I don't know how to reach him. I don't even know where he is now.”

Cross Country

Chapter 66

THIS PART OF Africa wasn't recommended for backpacking or camera safaris. The yowl of hyenas was a constant reminder of where I was now. So were the road signs that said things like warning-lions-crocodiles!!

Getting out of Sierra Leone and back to Nigeria was proving to be even more complicated than I had expected. And dangerous too, treacherous at almost any curve.

Like right now. Two military-issue jeeps sat nose-to-nose across the road, blocking our way. This was no ordinary border crossing, though. We were less than an hour outside Koidu.

“Are these guys actually government?” I asked Moses. “Any way to tell?”

He shrugged and shifted uncomfortably on the seat of the Drifter. “Could be RUF.”

There were six of them by my count, all wearing a mix of fatigues and street clothes and the familiar flip-flops. All of them were armed, including a mounted gunner in the back of one of the jeeps.

A lanky guy in a maroon beret came striding over to my window. His eyes were bloodshot, like he might have been stoned. He raised his rifle with one arm and held out the Other hand.

“Papers.”

I played it cool for now and showed him the police clear-ance and my passport.

He barely looked at them. “Fifty dollars. To pay for your visa.”

Whether these men were government officers or not, I knew right then that this was grift, pure and simple. A holdup.

I raised my gaze and looked into his red eyes. “I just spoke with the US embassy in Freetown this morning. Deputy Ambassador Sassi assured me himself that my papers were in good order. So what's the problem here?”

He stared back hard at me, but I didn't flinch. Two of the other guards started over from the side of the road, but he held up a palm to save them the trouble.

“Still, it is ten for the passenger. Twenty, if it's in leones.”

Somehow, we both knew I'd pay that one. I didn't want to push my luck. I gave him two American fives and we were on our way-to the next roadblock anyway.

We hit four of them before the actual border crossing. Each rite of passage went about the same. It got easier as we went, cheaper anyway, and by the time we finally crossed at Bo Waterside to Liberia, I'd paid out only another fifteen bucks or so.

The precious thing we did lose was time.

We didn't get into Monrovia until after dark, and with no guarantee of supplies east of there, we had to spend the night.

I worried through the night and didn't sleep very well.

We were safe so far, but the speed we were traveling was no Tiger's pace.

He was getting away again.

Cross Country

Chapter 67

WE DROVE ALL the next day and into the second night, alternating at the wheel, trying to make up time. As we traveled, Moses told me that he was representative of most people here-not the RUF, and certainly not the Tiger and his murderous gang.

“There are many good people in Africa, sah, and no one to help them fight back against the devils,” he said.