“What about British Petroleum, then? Prudhoe Bay?”
He looked at me. “How do you know about that?”
“What difference does it make?”
There was a pause, and I thought he would refuse. But I’d told him I might let him live. No matter how tough you are, in extremis, it doesn’t take much for a drop of hope to blossom into a full-blown mirage of salvation.
“Prudhoe Bay was a test of the new treatment,” he said. “On the one hand, it was a failure because it didn’t have the desired effect. But it was successful, too, because it demonstrated that for the patient to get well a higher dose was needed. There were other possibilities, including Ras Tanura in Saudi Arabia. But…”
“You had an unwitting access agent in Rotterdam. Boezeman.”
“That’s right. And I wanted to keep casualties to a minimum. The layout at Rotterdam is good for that.”
“So with Rotterdam inoperable…”
“Right. The price of oil would spike, demand would slacken, and I would single-handedly have hastened the advent of a post-oil, post-OPEC world economy. You get it now? Do you understand what’s at stake? We live in perilous times. We’re battling a new kind of enemy. An enemy that can’t be deterred. What do we do to fight him? Become like him?”
“Haven’t you?”
“I didn’t say ‘me.’ I said ‘we.’ Someone has to do what needs to be done, Rain. Someone has to live in the shadows so others can enjoy the light. Someone has to sin so others can enjoy innocence. Now, if you don’t understand my reasons, go ahead. Do the only thing you’re good for. You beat me. You won. Again.”
I didn’t say anything. The only thing you’re good for. It was stupid, but the words cut into me.
“But grant me a last request,” he said. “Let me call my sister. She’s the only one I have to say goodbye to. Or is a small mercy against your code of killing?”
I watched him, the front sight of the pistol even with his forehead. I thought about how easy it is to retract a fingertip, how easy to take a life.
It had always been easy for me. What others could accomplish only with the greatest encouragement, with fear and regret and swallowed revulsion, I could just…do. And I’d kept on doing it. There would always be a reason, it seemed. And if there weren’t, maybe I would invent one.
“My mobile phone is over there,” he said, inclining his head toward the dead guy by the tree. “My knee is broken, I can’t get to it. Would you lend me yours? Please?”
What difference did it make? A small mercy, like he said. I pulled my mobile out and tossed it to him.
“Thank you,” he said. He grimaced and flipped it open with his good hand.
If I was going to stop, I had to find a way to stop, a time and place to stop. I would have to make a decision to stop. The decision would carry risks, it was true. But so, always, would the alternative.
Maybe this was what Delilah had been talking about, when she told me about choices, and how I would make the right one.
Hilger was supporting himself on his left elbow, inputting his sister’s number with his left thumb. It embarrassed me to have to hear whatever he might say to her.
Yes, that was it. I’d been telling myself for so long I had no choice, that maybe my choice reflex had atrophied. But I could reawaken it. I could let him live. By walking away, I would prove that Dox and I were no threat to him. He’d have no incentive to come after us after that.
It made sense. I could do this. It was up to me. My choice. Everything would be possible. A thousand new directions. I thought about how I would tell Delilah, how she had been right, and how much her confidence had meant to me, how much it had helped me. I would tell her…
The phone! Not his sister, he’s detonating the bomb!
Without any other thought, I brought the gun up and shot him in the face. Again. Three times. He jerked and twitched and dropped the phone.
I sat there dumbly for a long moment in the sudden silence, the rain beating a steady drumbeat on my arms and shoulders. A tendril of smoke curled coyly from the muzzle of the gun.
I stood and picked up the mobile. I checked the screen. An access code, then 1, for America, 212, for New York…and six more digits. Christ, he’d been one digit away.
But was it the bomb? Or did he really have…
It didn’t matter. For all I knew, Boaz was elbow deep in the device right now. If Hilger had detonated it, Boaz would have died. Even if I was wrong, I had no choice.
The rain beat harder. And through the echo of that sodden drumbeat, I thought I heard a whispered voice, at once familiar and distant.
No choice.
I stood there in the cold and dark and rain. I’d known, at some level, of the possible danger if he made a call. But I’d let him make it anyway. Because once he had the phone in his hands, I had…
No choice.
My mobile buzzed. I looked and saw that it was Boaz.
I picked up. “You okay?” I asked.
“Did you hear a boom?”
“No, I didn’t. But I wasn’t listening closely.”
He laughed. “I have a simple rule. If there’s no boom, it’s good news.”
“You disarmed it.”
“Disarmed and disabled. We’ll need experts to handle the radioactive material and make sure it’s disposed of properly, but that’s someone else’s concern.”
I started walking toward the car. Jesus, I didn’t know I had so many places that could hurt. “Whose?” I asked.
“Let’s just say Mister Boezeman is very eager for no one ever to learn of this incident. And my organization is very eager to own a Rotterdam port official. It’s going to be a beautiful friendship.”
“You’re going to bring the organization in on this?”
“Of course. With results like these, a little-what do you call it, moonlighting?-is easily forgiven. But enough about me. I’m so relieved not to be blown into a million pieces that I’m forgetting to ask you about Hilger.”
“He’s dead.”
“How?”
“How do you think? Bullets.”
“And you’re okay? You’re not hurt, you’re out of danger?”
“I’m okay.”
“Fantastic! Naftali will be so pleased he might talk again. He was hoping to do it himself, but he’s a big boy, he understands that what matters is, it’s done.”
“Where are you?”
“On the train, on the way back to Amsterdam. Let’s have a beer. Debrief, decompress.”
“I’ve…got a lot to think about.”
“Bullshit. No one should be alone after something like this. Besides, you have our car and all our shiny toys. You have to give them back or we’ll get in trouble.”
I tried to smile, but I felt sick. “I’ll meet you at the station and give you the keys. But I can’t stay long.”
I PARKED NEAR Centraal Station, took my bag from the trunk, and locked the car. As I walked along one of the canals, I dropped Hilger’s gun over the side. I had left the USP in Vondelpark. I didn’t have time to search for it in the mud, but it was okay. I hadn’t even fired it, and if Boaz was using it, it must have been sterile.
I met them inside the station, as they came down the stairs from the Rotterdam train. Naftali shook my hand. “I owe you, Mister Rain,” he said.
“No, you don’t. You had my back. That’s good enough.”
He shook his head. “I know my brother was sent to kill you. I’m glad now he didn’t succeed.”
“Yeah, me too,” I said, and Naftali actually smiled.
“I told you he would be excited,” Boaz said.
I laughed weakly, then grimaced. My chest felt like I’d stopped a truck with it.
“Where will you go now?” Boaz asked. “To Delilah?”
I couldn’t have fooled him even if I’d been inclined. “Yeah.”
“I didn’t call her, you know. After Singapore. It was up to you.”
“Well, do you want me to go see her?” I said, handing him the car keys. “Or do you want to stand here talking?”