end, he gave Edger the job, and was given no cause to regret it any day since. Edger proved himself to be as capable as he came across in that interview, as well as hard working, loyal and dependable. In fact, Edger was one of the best operatives Rankin had ever had the pleasure of working with, either in the military or outside of it.
After Edger informed Rankin about the kidnapping, Rankin wondered once more what kind of secrets Edger was hiding. He got a sinking feeling in his stomach and he couldn't help fretting slightly that he was going to live to regret employing the man. Still, if Edger was in trouble, Rankin would try not to let him down, for he knew Edger would unhesitatingly do the same for him.
So when Edger finally walked into the office on Donegal Square, Rankin gave him his full attention as Edger went to the window that overlooked the city hall and lit a cigarette. Normally he would have admonished Edger for smoking in the office, but he let it go this time. Rankin lifted a pen of his desk and took a notepad from out of one of the drawers, which he placed on the desk, then he turned in his chair to look at Edger, who seemed even more haunted than usual. "Tell me what happened," Rankin said.
Edger took a long pull on his hand rolled cigarette and blew the smoke out the open window, the wind sucking the smoke out like a vacuum. Then he proceeded to tell Rankin everything that happened in the cafe that morning. Rankin listened intently, taking notes as he did so. When Edger finished recounting his story, Rankin sat in silence for a moment while Edger rolled himself another cigarette. "What aren't you telling me, Harry?" Rankin asked eventually. "People are kidnapped for a reason. You know that as well as anyone. Normally, it's money, but as you have none—that I know off anyway—it has to be something else, like a personal vendetta."
"I think whoever did it has been watching me for a while," Edger said, tapping ash out the window.
"Well, they would have been. They would have tracked your movements beforehand. They expected you to be in that cafe. You never saw anyone before today?"
"No. I just had a feeling I was being watched. I could never see anyone though, which means they were good, whoever they were."
"Well, they took Kaitlin out from under you," Rankin said, causing Edger to flash him a look of anger. "Relax. I'm just saying, whoever that guy was, he knew what he was doing. He's probably a pro, an operator of some kind."
"He is. I don't doubt that."
"So why, Harry? I can't help you unless you tell me why you think they did it. You must have made an enemy somewhere in the world."
"I've thought about that. I've done a lot of missions in my time. You know the score, John. This could be related to any one of them."
Rankin shook his head. "It doesn't feel that way to me, Harry. This feels personal to me."
Edger stared out the window in silence for a minute, his face conflicted like he was deciding whether or not to disclose something to Rankin.
"Whatever it is, Harry, tell me. You want Kaitlin back, I need full disclosure from you."
Edger took a last drag from his cigarette and tossed the butt out the window. "Something happened to me when I was kid," he said quietly.
I knew there was something.
"Go on." Rankin put his pen down and listened.
"I had a brother named Declan. He was a year older than me."
"Yes," Rankin said. "It's in your records. Your brother went missing and was declared dead seven years later, having never been found."
"That's right. The records don't show what really happened though."
"So what did happen?"
"The two of us were walking home one night from the boxing gym where Declan trained. I liked to go and watch him train, and he usually took time at the end to show me some stuff. He taught me how to punch, how to defend, how to work the bag and the mitts. He was always asking me to join full time, but I just liked watching him train. He was talented. Never lost a
After Edger informed Rankin about the kidnapping, Rankin wondered once more what kind of secrets Edger was hiding. He got a sinking feeling in his stomach and he couldn't help fretting slightly that he was going to live to regret employing the man. Still, if Edger was in trouble, Rankin would try not to let him down, for he knew Edger would unhesitatingly do the same for him.
So when Edger finally walked into the office on Donegal Square, Rankin gave him his full attention as Edger went to the window that overlooked the city hall and lit a cigarette. Normally he would have admonished Edger for smoking in the office, but he let it go this time. Rankin lifted a pen of his desk and took a notepad from out of one of the drawers, which he placed on the desk, then he turned in his chair to look at Edger, who seemed even more haunted than usual. "Tell me what happened," Rankin said.
Edger took a long pull on his hand rolled cigarette and blew the smoke out the open window, the wind sucking the smoke out like a vacuum. Then he proceeded to tell Rankin everything that happened in the cafe that morning. Rankin listened intently, taking notes as he did so. When Edger finished recounting his story, Rankin sat in silence for a moment while Edger rolled himself another cigarette. "What aren't you telling me, Harry?" Rankin asked eventually. "People are kidnapped for a reason. You know that as well as anyone. Normally, it's money, but as you have none—that I know off anyway—it has to be something else, like a personal vendetta."
"I think whoever did it has been watching me for a while," Edger said, tapping ash out the window.
"Well, they would have been. They would have tracked your movements beforehand. They expected you to be in that cafe. You never saw anyone before today?"
"No. I just had a feeling I was being watched. I could never see anyone though, which means they were good, whoever they were."
"Well, they took Kaitlin out from under you," Rankin said, causing Edger to flash him a look of anger. "Relax. I'm just saying, whoever that guy was, he knew what he was doing. He's probably a pro, an operator of some kind."
"He is. I don't doubt that."
"So why, Harry? I can't help you unless you tell me why you think they did it. You must have made an enemy somewhere in the world."
"I've thought about that. I've done a lot of missions in my time. You know the score, John. This could be related to any one of them."
Rankin shook his head. "It doesn't feel that way to me, Harry. This feels personal to me."
Edger stared out the window in silence for a minute, his face conflicted like he was deciding whether or not to disclose something to Rankin.
"Whatever it is, Harry, tell me. You want Kaitlin back, I need full disclosure from you."
Edger took a last drag from his cigarette and tossed the butt out the window. "Something happened to me when I was kid," he said quietly.
I knew there was something.
"Go on." Rankin put his pen down and listened.
"I had a brother named Declan. He was a year older than me."
"Yes," Rankin said. "It's in your records. Your brother went missing and was declared dead seven years later, having never been found."
"That's right. The records don't show what really happened though."
"So what did happen?"
"The two of us were walking home one night from the boxing gym where Declan trained. I liked to go and watch him train, and he usually took time at the end to show me some stuff. He taught me how to punch, how to defend, how to work the bag and the mitts. He was always asking me to join full time, but I just liked watching him train. He was talented. Never lost a
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