Alexandria Link by Steve Berry Page A

long ago not to waste emotion on things he could not change.
    He slackened his pace and yanked Pam alongside him. “We need to stay back. He isn’t paying attention, but he could still spot us.”
    They crossed the street and clung to an attractive row of buildings that fronted a narrow walk facing the sea. The shooter was a hundred feet ahead. Malone watched as he turned a corner.
    They reached the same corner and peered around. The man was plowing ahead down a pedestrian-only lane lined with shops and restaurants. A clutter of people milled about, so he decided to risk it.
    They followed.
    “What are we doing?” Pam asked.
    “The only thing we can do.”
    “Why don’t you just give them what they want?”
    “It’s not that simple.”
    “Sure it is.”
    He kept his gaze ahead. “Thanks for the advice.”
    “You’re an ass.”
    “I love you, too. Now that we’ve established that, let’s focus on what we’re doing.”
    Their objective turned right and disappeared.
    Malone hustled forward, glanced around the corner, and saw the shooter approach a dirty Volvo coupe. He hoped he wasn’t leaving. No way to follow. Their car was a long way off. He watched as the man opened the driver’s-side door and tossed something inside. Then he closed the door and started back their way.
    They ducked into a clothing shop just as the shooter passed in front, heading back in the direction from which they’d come. Malone crept to the door and watched the man enter a café.
    “What’s he doing?” Pam asked.
    “Waiting for the commotion to die down. Don’t force the issue. Just sit tight, blend in. Leave later.”
    “That’s nuts. He killed a man.”
    “And only we know that.”
    “Why kill him at all?”
    “To rattle our nerves. Silence any information flow. Lots of reasons.”
    “This is a sick business.”
    “Why do you think I got out?” He decided to use the interlude to his advantage. “Go get the car and bring it around to over there.” He pointed through an alley at the seaside train station. “Park and wait for me. When he leaves, he’s going to have to go that way. It’s the only route out of town.”
    He passed her the keys and, for an instant, memories of other times he’d handed her car keys rattled through his brain. He thought of years past. Knowing she and Gary were waiting at home, after an assignment, had always brought him a measure of comfort. And as much as neither of them wanted to admit it, they’d once been good for each other. He remembered her smile, her touch. Unfortunately, her deceit about Gary now colored all that pleasantness with suspicion. Made him wonder. Question whether their life together had all been an illusion.
    She seemed to sense his thoughts and her gaze softened, like the Pam before bad things changed them both. So he said, “I’ll find Gary. I swear to you. He’ll be all right.”
    He actually wanted her to respond, but she said nothing.
    And her silence stung.
    So he walked away.

Malone 2 - Alexandria Link

TWELVE
    OXFORDSHIRE, ENGLAND
    10:30 AM
    GEORGE HADDAD ENTERED BAINBRIDGE HALL. FOR THE PAST three years he’d been a frequent visitor, ever since he’d convinced himself that the answer to his dilemma lay within these walls.
    The house was a masterpiece of marble pavings, Mortlake tapestries, and richly colored decorations. The grand staircase, with elaborately carved floral panels, dated from the time of Charles II. The plaster ceilings from the 1660s. The furnishings and paintings were all eighteenth and nineteenth century. Everything a showpiece of English country style.
    But it was also much more.
    A puzzle.
    Just like the white arbor monument in the garden where members of the press were still gathered, listening to the so-called experts. Just like Thomas Bainbridge himself, the unknown English earl who’d lived in the latter part of the eighteenth century.
    Haddad knew the family history.
    Bainbridge had been born to the world of privilege and high