London Bridges: A Novel by James Patterson Page B

why I'm here. To listen.”
    Actually, Shafer was already a little concerned; he was surprised that Nikki Williams had let herself go so much since the last time they'd worked together. He doubted that she was five foot six, but she must have weighed close to two hundred pounds now.
    Still, Nikki Williams exuded the confidence of the highly skilled professional Shafer knew she had always been. They'd worked together for six months in Angola, and Captain Williams was very good at her specialty. She'd always delivered what was asked of her before.
    He told Nikki Williams only her part of the job and repeated the fee, which was fifty thousand dollars for less than an hour's work. The thing he liked best about Nikki was that she never complained about the difficulty of any job, or even its risks.
    “What's the next step for me? When do we go?” were her only two questions after he had detailed the basics, though not the actual target.
    “Tomorrow at one you'll to be at Manassas Regional Airport in Virginia. An MD-530 helicopter will set down there at five past the hour. We'll have an HK PSG-1 on board for you.”
    Williams frowned and shook her head. “Unh-uh. If you don't mind, I'll bring my own. I prefer the Winchester M70, with 300 Win Magnum hollow-point boattails. I've field-tested them, know they're best for this kind of job. You said that glass has to be penetrated, right?”
    “Yes, that's right, Captain. You have to shoot into an office building.”
    Shafer didn't object to the change in weapons. He had worked with plenty of snipers and knew they were always idiosyncratic, had their own peculiar way of doing things. He'd expected modifications from her and was surprised there weren't more, actually.
    “So who's going to die tomorrow?” Nikki Williams finally asked. “I need to know that, of course.”
    Shafer told Captain Williams the target, and to her credit, she never raised an eyebrow. Her only reaction was “My price just went up. It just doubled.”
    Shafer nodded slowly. “Agreed. That will be just fine, Captain.”
    Then Nikki Williams smiled. “Did I settle too low?”
    Shafer nodded again. “Yes, you did. But I'm going to give you one-fifty anyway. Just don't miss him.”

Alex Cross 10 - London Bridges

Chapter 29
    We might have gotten a decent break in the case—finally, something, and it had started with a tip from me. The wheelchair! We had a lead.
    At ten in the morning, I raced across Washington to the Farragut apartment building on Cathedral Avenue. Three years before, a partner of mine named Patsy Hampton had been murdered in the underground garage of the Farragut. Geoffrey Shafer had killed her. The Farragut was where his old therapist lived.
    We'd had Dr. Elizabeth Cassady under surveillance for the past thirty-six hours, and it seemed to have paid off. The Weasel had shown up. He parked in the underground garage near where Patsy had been brutally killed. Then he went upstairs to the penthouse apartment, 10D, where Dr. Cassady still lived.
    He'd come in a wheelchair.
    I boarded an elevator with four other agents. We had our guns drawn and ready. “He's extremely dangerous. Please take what I'm saying seriously,” I reminded them as we stepped from the elevator on the therapist's floor.
    It had been painted since the last time I was there. So much of this was familiar, hauntingly so. I was getting angry all over again about Patsy Hampton's death, about the Weasel.
    I pressed the bell at 10D.
    Then I called out, “FBI, open the door. FBI, Dr. Cassady.”
    The door opened, and I was staring at a tall, attractive blond woman whom I recognized.
    Elizabeth Cassady recognized me, too. “Dr. Cross,” she said. “What a surprise. Well, no, it isn't really.”
    As she spoke I heard a wheelchair rolling up behind her. I raised my gun, pushing Dr. Cassady out of the way.
    I aimed my weapon.
    “Stop right there! Stop!” I shouted.
    The wheelchair, and the man seated in it, came into full view.