In fact, if Luca wasn’t so sure it was impossible, he’d think someone had grabbed Ricker and Green by their necks and smashed their heads together…like a bully brother breaking his sister’s dolls. But who could manhandle two guys as fit and jacked as Ricker and Green like that?
An icy length of barbed wire dragged along Luca’s spine.
“According to what you’ve told me,” Lister said, “Ricker and the team didn’t know where they were going until less than an hour before they hit the road. Even you didn’t know. So how did whoever took them out know? Sounds to me like they were already there waiting.”
“Or they were followed.”
“But why follow them at all? Unless…shit! The Japs! I bet it’s the Japs! That goddamn Kaze Group has been sticking its dirty fingers deeper and deeper into the biotech pie, and now—”
“I doubt it’s the Japs,” Luca said. “They’ve got no reason to protect Sullivan.”
“Maybe they just want to keep us off balance.”
Luca began to feel an unsettling suspicion. He hesitated, as if uttering the words might turn the possibility into a reality. But Lister—and SIRG—had to know.
“I think there’s a new player in the game.”
“Where’d you get an idea like that?”
“A gut feeling. And the fact that we’ve never had to deal with a countermove like this.”
A pause while Lister digested that. “Who on earth…?”
“I have no idea—yet. But I’m going to find out.”
“You do that. But don’t lose us any more men in the process. Whoever these people are, they play rough.”
“Rough,” Luca said, clamping his jaw. “They don’t know rough. Not by half.”
“And somethingyou should know,” Lister said. “Word from upstairs is that this was a bad idea.”
“Bad?” Anger dueled with a sudden stab of cold fear. “It was approved! What the hell are they trying—?”
“Careful what you say, Portero. The wrong people might hear and you could find yourself back where you came from, living on your pension while pimping for your mother—and happy to be allowed to do so. Comprende?”
Lister’s unexpected attack rocked Luca. “What?What did you just say?”
Rage flared through him, making him want to reach through the phone and kill. He didn’t care about the swift and inevitably deadly reprisal from SIRG, he wanted to crush Lister’s larynx, wanted to see his eyes bulge, his face turn purple while Luca screamed in his ear that yes, my mother was a whore, but only because she had to be and she’s not anymore, and yes, she doesn’t know who my father was, but…
“Sorry,” Lister said. “That was uncalled for. I’m just…you wouldn’t believe the pressure that’s coming down.”
Luca said nothing. All right, so SIRG was squeezing Lister, big time. That still didn’t give him the right…
“Look,” Lister said. “Whatever you thought they said before, they now say the lawyer is not key. If he goes, he can be replaced in minutes by another lawyer, maybe a better one, who might cause even more problems.”
Lister paused, as if expecting a comment. They’re right, Luca grudgingly admitted. No shortage of lawyers. But he said nothing.
Lister went on: “The sims—thisparticular group of sims—are key. No other group has come forward looking to unionize, only these. Why, we don’t know. Why, we don’t care. Point is, SIRG wants the focus of your efforts from now on to be the Beacon Ridge sims. Are we clear on that?”
“Completely.”
Calmer now, Luca already was germinating an idea. A simple plan. A one-man job. And he knew just the man.
This time there’d be no slip-ups because he’d take care of it himself.
Because this had become personal.
Romy Cadman had made him look bad. Hurt his reputation. Now she was going to hurt.
12
WESTCHESTER COUNTY, NY
“I’m fine, really,” Romy said.
She stood in an empty ladies’ room speaking to Zero on the secure PCA he’d given her. It was clear after last night that she was under surveillance, so she’d picked a spot at random and wound up in a coffee shop not far from the federal district courthouse in White Plains. At this hour—10:32A .M.—the dining area contained only a handful of late breakfasters, and the ladies’ room was empty; she’d checked all the stalls before calling.
“You’re sure? Absolutely sure?”
The concern in his voice touched her. “Absolutely. Those martial arts lessons you made me take came in handy.”
“I never thought you’d be in physical danger, but I felt it best you be prepared for it.”
“If nothing else, it’s helped me keep my cool.”
Relative cool, she thought. Her nerves were still jangled. She’d tried to rest at the motel—in her own room, much to Patrick’s dismay—but sleep had remained steadfastly out of reach; so she’d compensated this morning by drinking too much coffee, which did nothing to settle her nerves.
She caught sight of herself in one of the mirrors. A little haggard looking, but not half bad for someone who’d ducked an attempt on her life just a few hours ago.
“But murder?” she said. “Somehow I don’t see the brothers Sinclair sitting around and deciding to have us killed.”
“That decision was reached elsewhere, I’m sure. By someone connected to the company but with his own best interests at heart.”
“Someone also connected to Manassas Ventures, perhaps?”
“Perhaps. Our investigation into that little company keeps coming up empty. It seems to exist in a vacuum. We’ve avoided direct inquiries, keeping everything back door because we don’t want to let them know anyone’s interested. But if nothing pans out soon we may have to arrange a little accident.”
“Accident?”
He went on without elaborating. “In the meantime we want to keep you and Patrick alive and well. Connecting SimGen to the vans was a brilliant stroke. Your idea?”
“No. Patrick’s.”
“Clever fellow. The Beacon Ridge sims could do a lot worse.”
“I’m beginning to see that.” After last night, despite his tough talk, she’d half expected him to wake up this morning and run off with his tail tucked between his legs. But he was in court now, arguing motions. “What I don’t see is how you managed to be down in that ravine with us.”
“Iwasn’t there.”
“I don’t mean you personally—the organization.”
“We had a tail on Portero.”
That startled her. “For how long?”
“Long enough to see him rent a couple of vans. After that, we kept an eye on the vans. When some mercenary types became attached to the vans, I suspected strong-arm tactics were in the works. Some of our people followed one van to that ravine and you-know-who intervened.”
“I’m glad.”
“So am I. I’d never forgive myself if…” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, the gloves are off, I’m afraid. The organization is going to mount its own surveillance on you and Patrick. The Beacon Ridge barrack as well.”
Romy’s stomach turned. “Oh, no. You don’t think—”
“Anything is possible. And we must be prepared for it.”
13
THE BRONX
NOVEMBER 6
Meerm not hungry. Get good food in Meerm room, special food, come on own plate. Meerm not have get self from pot like down in sim big room. Meerm room food better. Yum-yum. Meerm wish she feel better so she like food more.
Meerm lonely sometime in own room. But Meerm not downstair where Needle Lady and Needle Man stick sharp thing in sim, take blood. Take-take-take. And hair face man do very bad hurt thing to Meerm and other sim. But not here Meerm room. No sharp stick here. No one hurt Meerm in own room.