Assassin Eighteen by John Brownlow

Author:John Brownlow [Brownlow, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-09-01T04:00:00+00:00

92

‘She’s pretty,’ says Hipkiss. Her voice is older, harder. ‘The girl, I mean. Sweet disposition, considering everything she’s been through. She’s your daughter, no?’

‘She’s alive?’

‘Of course she is.’

‘And I’m just supposed to take your word for that?’

‘People have called me many things in my life, but nobody has ever accused me of being a liar.’

‘You lied to me. The deal was you didn’t touch Gracious.’

‘Harkonnen wouldn’t have touched her if she’d given him what he wanted. Instead, she gave it to the girl. Who no longer has it. Which means either you have it, you know where it is, or you can find it.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘And I think you’re lying. But it makes no difference. All you have to do is deliver it to us, and the girl will be released.’

‘You killed somebody I loved. And you still think I’m going to play ball?’

‘Either you do, or your daughter dies. It’s very straightforward.’

‘I didn’t even know she existed until a few days ago. Do I strike you as the family type?’

She laughs, a mirthless nasal drone. ‘No. I think you’re a romantic. That’s why you came to me to save her mother all those years ago. And you wouldn’t still be talking to me if you didn’t care.’

‘Let’s say I can somehow find what you’re looking for. I’m going to need some time. Ten days, at least.’

‘Out of the question.’

‘For Christ’s sake,’ I say. ‘What do you think I am? Houdini? I’m wanted for four murders and a child abduction. The CIA and FBI are all over my old house right now. They know who I am and that I’m back in action. Now add the shit that went down in Manhattan yesterday, and the fact I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be looking for. Either you want me to find it or you don’t.’

‘Three days,’ she says finally. ‘For a man of your abilities it should be plenty. I’m going to give you a number to call when you have it. If I don’t hear from you, I hand your daughter over to Mr Harkonnen. He has some . . . difficult memories of your time in Africa. I’m sure you understand what I’m saying.’

Static crackles through the silence between us.

‘I want you to understand something,’ I say, finding my voice. ‘If anything happens to her—’

‘Oh, please,’ she says. ‘Handler’s dead. Osterman’s dead. Sixteen’s dead. The girl’s mother is dead. You have no meaningful allies and few resources. Whereas I have a great deal of money, my brother’s security organisation, and sources at the highest level in the world’s most capable intelligence agencies. You’d survive a few weeks, at best.’

‘It would be long enough,’ I say.

‘Perhaps,’ says Hipkiss. ‘But your daughter would still be dead.’

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