people lining up to support him. Alex had no doubt that the cable news shows would be full of pundits talking about all those crazy gun nuts down in Texas. If they could get in a few jabs at organized religion, they would do that, too. And all too many of the viewers would sit there, openmouthed, ready to be spoon-fed that poisonous claptrap.
Maybe someday things would settle down. Maybe someday the world would be right again, and people wouldn’t be punished for being hardworking and honest.
But as she stood there watching through the glass doors as the private ambulance drove away with its lights flashing, Alex wasn’t sure if that would ever happen. She wasn’t sure at all.
C HAPTER 10
Two months later
“Who’s this guy supposed to be, anyway?” Brad Parker asked as he sat at the umbrella-shaded table and watched the bikini-clad lovelies strutting their stuff around the pool.
“Hell if I know,” Lawrence Ford replied. Like Parker, he wore sunglasses, a Hawaiian shirt, and lightweight trousers. Also like Parker, the long tails of the shirt Ford wore served to conceal the butt of the flat, deadly little automatic that was holstered at the small of his back.
A mandatory accessory for the well-dressed tourist in Corpus Christi, Texas, Ford had called the weapon earlier.
The warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico rolled up on a beautiful white sand beach on the other side of a strip of lush green lawn dotted with palm trees. Despite the nearness of the Gulf, the pool here at the hotel was doing a brisk business. It didn’t have any sand or fish in it, and besides, a lot of the beautiful young people gathered around the pool were more interested in being seen and in hooking up with somebody than they were in actually swimming.
“My God, we’re a couple of dirty old men,” Ford said as two lovely twenty-year-olds in tiny bikinis strolled past their table.
“Speak for yourself, Fargo,” Parker said. “I’m still young.”
“You just keep on deluding yourself that way.” Ford took a sip of his drink. It had a tiny umbrella in it, which he tried to ignore. It was embarrassing for a grown man to drink a drink that had an umbrella in it, he thought. But he and Parker were supposed to look like typical tourists, which meant they were beyond embarrassment.
Both men were in their forties. The tall, burly Ford was from Fargo, North Dakota, hence the nickname, and despite being raised in such a cold climate, since going to work for the Company he had most often found himself on assignment in hot places: Pakistan, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Central America, now Texas…. He had thought more than once that his bosses were engaged in some bizarre conspiracy to make him sweat.
Parker, on the other hand, had been born and raised in Southern California and had the blond good looks to prove it. His face had a rough-hewn quality that kept him from being too pretty, though. A few years earlier, he had been hurt badly during a mission in Afghanistan, and even though he had fully recovered and gone back on active duty, the carefree look he’d had in his eyes as a young man was gone forever.
Nobody who knew the truth of what really went on in the world could be carefree. And nobody knew that truth better than these shadow warriors.
“So what are we supposed to do here?” Parker pressed.
“Find the guy, grab the guy, hold on to him until somebody picks him up,” Ford replied with a shrug of his brawny shoulders. He had a little paunch he struggled with, but like the shorter, more slender Parker he was a very dangerous man in a fight.
“Then he must be somebody important.”
“Importance is in the eye of he who pays the bills.”
“Don’t you ever get tired of putting on that cynical act?”
“Who says it’s an act?” Ford smiled lazily. “Don’t look now, but there’s our pigeon.”
Parker didn’t react other than to ask, “Where?”
Smiling and nodding, Ford said, “Sixth floor balcony.” He counted the
Maybe someday things would settle down. Maybe someday the world would be right again, and people wouldn’t be punished for being hardworking and honest.
But as she stood there watching through the glass doors as the private ambulance drove away with its lights flashing, Alex wasn’t sure if that would ever happen. She wasn’t sure at all.
C HAPTER 10
Two months later
“Who’s this guy supposed to be, anyway?” Brad Parker asked as he sat at the umbrella-shaded table and watched the bikini-clad lovelies strutting their stuff around the pool.
“Hell if I know,” Lawrence Ford replied. Like Parker, he wore sunglasses, a Hawaiian shirt, and lightweight trousers. Also like Parker, the long tails of the shirt Ford wore served to conceal the butt of the flat, deadly little automatic that was holstered at the small of his back.
A mandatory accessory for the well-dressed tourist in Corpus Christi, Texas, Ford had called the weapon earlier.
The warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico rolled up on a beautiful white sand beach on the other side of a strip of lush green lawn dotted with palm trees. Despite the nearness of the Gulf, the pool here at the hotel was doing a brisk business. It didn’t have any sand or fish in it, and besides, a lot of the beautiful young people gathered around the pool were more interested in being seen and in hooking up with somebody than they were in actually swimming.
“My God, we’re a couple of dirty old men,” Ford said as two lovely twenty-year-olds in tiny bikinis strolled past their table.
“Speak for yourself, Fargo,” Parker said. “I’m still young.”
“You just keep on deluding yourself that way.” Ford took a sip of his drink. It had a tiny umbrella in it, which he tried to ignore. It was embarrassing for a grown man to drink a drink that had an umbrella in it, he thought. But he and Parker were supposed to look like typical tourists, which meant they were beyond embarrassment.
Both men were in their forties. The tall, burly Ford was from Fargo, North Dakota, hence the nickname, and despite being raised in such a cold climate, since going to work for the Company he had most often found himself on assignment in hot places: Pakistan, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Central America, now Texas…. He had thought more than once that his bosses were engaged in some bizarre conspiracy to make him sweat.
Parker, on the other hand, had been born and raised in Southern California and had the blond good looks to prove it. His face had a rough-hewn quality that kept him from being too pretty, though. A few years earlier, he had been hurt badly during a mission in Afghanistan, and even though he had fully recovered and gone back on active duty, the carefree look he’d had in his eyes as a young man was gone forever.
Nobody who knew the truth of what really went on in the world could be carefree. And nobody knew that truth better than these shadow warriors.
“So what are we supposed to do here?” Parker pressed.
“Find the guy, grab the guy, hold on to him until somebody picks him up,” Ford replied with a shrug of his brawny shoulders. He had a little paunch he struggled with, but like the shorter, more slender Parker he was a very dangerous man in a fight.
“Then he must be somebody important.”
“Importance is in the eye of he who pays the bills.”
“Don’t you ever get tired of putting on that cynical act?”
“Who says it’s an act?” Ford smiled lazily. “Don’t look now, but there’s our pigeon.”
Parker didn’t react other than to ask, “Where?”
Smiling and nodding, Ford said, “Sixth floor balcony.” He counted the
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