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While the little girl was going toward the doughnut stand in the center of the gate area.

It would not be easy, but it would be possible, he thought.

Train stations, bus stations, airports were all prime areas to make contact. Airports were a little harder, but that only made it more interesting. He usually preferred bus stations in European and Asian countries, but he couldn’t be choosy at the moment. He hadn’t had a kill in over a week.

The little girl had her doughnut and was coming back toward the flight attendant.

The woman barely glanced at the little girl when she sat down next to her.

Maybe it would be easier than he thought.

The mind-set of the people at travel centers was always different. Sometimes the travelers were nervous, excited, unhappy, but there was always a chance that their altered perception would lead them more easily to do things they wouldn’t ordinarily do.

He had read once that Andrei Chikatilo, the Soviet serial killer who had been convicted of killing at least fifty-three women and children, had made a habit of contacting his prey at train stations. It was a wonder the fool had not been caught before. Personally, Black preferred to be unpredictable. It was the only safe method and, combined with his clever acquisition of Queen as a protector, it had worked wonderfully well for him. He had stopped counting at sixty-two kills and, though he had occasionally skirted capture, he had never been really in danger.

Paul Black glanced up at the clock. He had forty minutes before he boarded the flight. Time to spend them doing something he’d enjoy. He took out his cell and dialed Nate Queen.

“I’m coming after you, Queen,” he said softly. “I just thought I’d let you anticipate a little.”

“Black?” Queen’s voice was hoarse. “What are you talking about? Why? Haven’t I protected you? Let’s talk.”

The bastard was scared shitless, Black thought. Good. Fear was power. It was as heady as straight vodka. “I don’t like to talk. That’s what’s made our relationship work so well. You give me an assignment, and I do it. I give you a bill, and you pay it.” He paused. “Benkman didn’t like to talk, either. He just wanted to kill me and walk away. You shouldn’t have sent him, Queen.”

“Why would I want to kill you? You’re valuable to me.”

“I think you’re playing both ends against the middle. You don’t care how faithful an employee I’ve been over the years.” His voice was mocking. “No gold watch. Just a bomb under the terrace. So I must have been more valuable to you dead than alive.”

“It wasn’t me.” Queen’s voice was panicky. “Maybe Gallo did it on his own. He doesn’t tell me everything.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll get to you both.”

“Look, we can work this out. You need me as much as I need you. They would have executed you years ago if I hadn’t protected you. You know that’s true.”

“And the reason you protected me is that you know the minute they catch me, I’ll tell everyone how you’ve constantly stolen evidence and whisked me away from the local police. In how many countries? At least a dozen.” Turn the screw. “And I’ll give details to the media. Ugly details horrify the media. You’re so comfortable in your cushy job, just waiting to retire and tap all the money you’ve stolen and go to some Caribbean island. That dream would be blasted to hell. They’ll start a witch hunt.”

“Maybe I made a mistake,” Queen said. “I admit I was getting nervous. I needed someone who would just do the kills I assigned, then go undercover until we needed him.”

“Oh, someone who didn’t like his job?”

He hesitated. “I may have thought that you were out of control.”

“I am. You’ve never been able to control me.”

The little girl at Gate 1 was wandering away from the flight attendant again. Black felt tension grip him. It was too tempting. The challenge, the possibility … the hunger.

“Give me another chance,” Queen said.

He jerked his attention away from the girl. “Why now? Why did you send Benkman now?”

“I told you that—” Queen stopped. “Gallo is becoming difficult. I’m tired of dealing with him. I needed a sacrificial lamb.”

Black burst out laughing. “And I was your lamb? What fools you are. You should have let me kill him when I wanted to do it.”

“We had our doubts whether you could do it. He’s as nasty a piece of work as you are.”

Black’s smile vanished. “I could do it.”

“Then maybe we could deal. You forget my lack of judgment. And I turn you loose on Gallo for a very substantial sum. Look on it as a challenge.”

The challenge was the little girl at Gate 1. Gallo would only be an amusement in comparison. “How much?”

“Double the last job.”

“You really are finding him difficult. Or me a threat.”

“A little of both,” Queen said. “I want information from him before he dies. I need a ledger he’s been holding.”

“How do you know I won’t take it?”

“You wouldn’t be interested. Blackmail requires a certain effort and restraint. You only want one thing from us.”

Freedom to keep doing what he loved best.

Queen knew him better than he’d thought.

“I might be interested. I’ve always hated Gallo’s guts.” He added, “As long as you understand, you won’t get another chance with me. Where is Gallo?”

“Mazkal, Utah.” He paused. “Where are you?”

“San Francisco.”

“Very close.”

“I’m close to you, too. Only a few hours away.”

“But you’d get nothing by killing me.”

“Except satisfaction.”

“Be reasonable.”

“But all the FBI profilers say that men of my persuasion are seldom reasonable.”

The flight attendant at Gate 1 was leaning on the departure gate desk and talking to the gate agent.

The little girl was standing several yards away looking out the huge window at the planes.

“Black, change your mind.”

“I may. Or I may not. If you’re not dead in the next twelve hours, then you’ll know that I’ve decided to forgive you and gone after Gallo instead.” He hung up.

He leaned back in his seat, his gaze on the little girl. Such shining brown hair, such a pretty little girl.

Her flight wasn’t due to board for another fifty-five minutes. That was enough time to lure her out of the airport.

If the flight attendant was as careless and self-centered as she appeared.

If the little girl was as innocent and eager as he judged.

If Black could use all his skill and cleverness to persuade her to come with him.

It would be difficult. It would be a challenge …

So should he accept that challenge? Should he forget her and get on his flight to Washington? Or should he catch a later flight to Utah?

Let the little girl decide.

He got to his feet and strolled casually toward the window.

If it proved too awkward or dangerous a task to take what he wanted, then he’d return to his own gate and continue to Washington.

If he was able to lure the little girl from the airport, then he’d come back after he’d sated himself and take the flight to Utah.

He stopped a good five feet from the child and gazed out the window, ignoring her. Never too close at the start. In the crowded airport, it would be better to use words rather than actions. And they must be the right words. But he would have no problem. He was an expert, a master, at this game.

Queen or Gallo?

Sweet little girl, you choose who is to die.

CHAPTER

11

“YOU’RE PROBABLY GOING TO be very angry with me, Eve.”

John’s voice. John Gallo’s dark eyes looking down at her.

She was lying on a couch. Red drapes at the window. Where were they? A motel…?

“It may help to know that I made sure that you wouldn’t have so much as a headache.”

Not a motel.