"Maybe not. I've yet to be convinced of that. But I'm not giving it to you for protection against rakoshi."
Kolabati pulled her eyes away from the weapon in her hand to look at him.
"Then what...?" His grim expression provided a chilling answer to her question. "Oh, Jack. I don't know if I could."
"You don't have to worry about it now. It may never come to that. On the other hand it may come down to a choice between being dragged off to that ship again or shooting your brother. It's a decision you'll have to make at the time."
She looked back at the gun, hating it and yet fascinated by it—much the same as she’d felt when Kusum had given her that first look into the ship's hold last night.
"But I've never..."
"It's double-action: You've got to cock it before you can fire." He showed her how. "You've got five shots."
He began to undress and Kolabati put the gun aside as she watched him, thinking he was about to join her on the bed. Instead he went to the bureau. When he turned to face her again he had fresh underwear in one hand and in the other a long-barreled pistol that dwarfed hers.
"I'm taking a shower," he said. "Stay alert and use that"—he gestured to her pistol on the nightstand—"if you have to. Don't start thinking of ways to get your brother's necklace. Shoot first, then worry about the necklace."
He stepped out into the hall and soon she heard the shower running.
Kolabati laid back and pulled the sheet over her. She moved her legs, spreading and closing them, enjoying the touch of the sheets on her skin. She needed Jack very much tonight. But he seemed so distant, immune to her nakedness.
Another woman. Kolabati had sensed her presence in Jack the very first night they met. Was it the attractive blonde she’d seen him talking to at the UK reception? It had not concerned her then because the influence had been so weak. Now it was strong.
No matter. She knew how to have her way with a man, knew ways to make him forget the other women in his life. She’d make Jack want her and only her. She had to, for Jack was important to her. She wanted him beside her always.
Always...
She fingered her necklace.
She thought of Kusum and looked at the pistol on the nightstand. Could she shoot her brother if he came in now?
Yes. Most definitely, yes. Twenty-four hours ago her answer would have been different. Now...the loathing crawled up from her stomach to her throat...
Kaka-ji!...the rakoshi called her brother Kaka-ji!
Yes, she could pull the trigger. Knowing the level of depravity to which he’d sunk, knowing that his sanity was irredeemable. She could almost look on killing Kusum as an act of compassion, done to save him from any further acts of self-degradation. More than anything she wanted his necklace. Possessing it would end his threat to her forever, and allow her to clasp it about the throat of the only man worthy to spend the rest of his days with her—Jack.
She closed her eyes and nestled her head deeper into the pillow.
Tired…she’d had only a few minutes of fitful slumber on that wafer-thin mattress in the pilot's cabin last night. She'd close her eyes for just a few minutes…just until Jack came out of the shower. Then she would make him hers again.
He'd soon forget the other woman.
19
Jack lathered himself vigorously in the shower, scrubbing his skin to cleanse it of the stink of the hold. His Glock was wrapped in a towel on a shelf within easy reach. His eyes repeatedly wandered to the outline of the door, hazily visible through the light blue translucency of the shower curtain. His mind's eye kept replaying a variation on the shower scene from Psycho. Only here it wasn't Norman Bates in drag coming in and slashing away with a knife—it was the Mother rakosh using the built-in knives of her taloned hands.
He rinsed quickly and stepped out to towel off.
Everything was okay in Queens. A call to Gia while Kolabati was in the shower had confirmed that Vicky was safe and asleep. Now he could get on with business here.
Back in the bedroom he found Kolabati sound asleep. He grabbed some fresh clothes and studied her sleeping face as he dressed. She looked different in repose. The sensuousness was gone, replaced by a touching innocence.
Jack pulled the sheet up over her shoulder. He liked her. She was lively, she was fun, she was exotic. Her sexual skills and appetite were unparalleled in his experience. And she seemed to find things in him she truly admired. They had the basis for a long relationship. But...
The eternal but.
...despite the intimacies they’d shared, he knew he was not for her. She would want more of him than he was willing to give. And he knew he would never feel for her what he felt for Gia.
Closing the bedroom door behind him, Jack went into the front room and prepared to wait for Kusum. He pulled on a T-shirt and slacks, white socks and tennis shoes—he wanted to be ready to move at an instant's notice. He put an extra handful of hollow-point bullets in his right front pocket and, on impulse, stuck the remaining lighter in the left. He set his wing-backed chair by the front window and faced the door. He pulled the matching hassock up and seated himself with the Glock in his lap.
He hated waiting for an opponent to make the next move. It left him on the defensive, and the defensive side had no initiative.
But why play defensively? That was just what Kusum expected him to do. Why let crazy Kusum call the shots? Vicky was safe. Why not take the war to Kusum?
He snatched up the phone and dialed. Abe answered with a croak on the first ring.
"It's me—Jack. Did I wake you?"
"No, of course not. I sit up next to the phone every night waiting for you to call. Should tonight be any different?" Jack didn't know whether he was joking or not. At times it was hard to tell with Abe.
"Everything okay on your end?"
"Would I be sitting here so calmly talking to you if it wasn't?”
"Vicky's all right?"
"Of course. Can I go back to sleep on this wonderfully comfortable couch now?"
"You're on the couch? There's another bedroom."
"About the other bedroom I know. I just thought I should maybe sleep here between the door and our two lady friends.”
Jack felt a burst of warmth for his old friend. "I really do owe you for this, Abe."
"I know. So start paying me back by hanging up."
"Unfortunately, I'm not finished asking favors yet. I got a big one coming up.”
“Nu? What’s this latest toiveh I should do you?”
"I need some equipment: incendiary bombs with timers and incendiary bullets along with an AR to shoot them."
The Yiddishkeit disappeared; Abe was abruptly a businessman. "Those I don't have in stock, but I can get them. You need them when?"
"Tonight.”
"Seriously—when?”
"Tonight. An hour ago."
Abe whistled. "Oy, that's going to be tough. Important?"
"Very."
"I'll have to call in some markers on this. Especially at this hour."
"Make it worth their while," Jack told him. "The sky's the limit.”
"Okay. But I'll have to leave and make the pickups myself. These boys don't deal with anybody they don't know."
Jack didn't like the idea of leaving Gia and Vicky without a guard. But since there was no way for Kusum to find them, a guard was superfluous.
"Okay. You've got your truck, right?"
"Right."
"Then make your calls, make the pickups, and I'll meet you at the store. Call me when you get there."
Jack hung up and settled back in his chair. Comfortably dark here in the front room with only a little indirect light spilling from the kitchen area. He felt his muscles loosen up and relax into the familiar depressions of the chair. He was tired. The last few days had been wearing. When was the last time he’d had a good night's sleep? Saturday? Here it was Wednesday morning.
He jumped at the sudden jangle of the phone and picked it up before it finished the first ring.