Matarese Dynasty 2 - The Matarese Countdown by Ludlum Robert

Author:Ludlum, Robert [Ludlum, Robert]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-01-21T03:00:00+00:00

and we've got kind of a thing going, if you know what I mean."

"I'll try to remember.. .. And?"

"Well, she knew it was me, and I asked her if my mother had tried to

call me-the switchboard keeps records. She said Mom hadn't, so I

pretended I was talking to Cousin Kevin and hung up. I'll have to

apologize to Livvie for that."

"Do so," said Considine, his fingers massaging his forehead.

"That's also another phone call you didn't tell me about."

"I guess I forgot. But I told you all about that big house over the

bridges, and the guards, and how I couldn't call anybody and how I was

kept in a room with bars on the windows and everything."

"And how you escaped," agreed the pilot, "which was remarkable in

itself. You must be a tough kid; your hands were a mess but you kept

going."

"I don't know about tough, I just knew I had to get out of there. The

things my warden, Amet-I called him a warden-kept repeating sounded

like a broken record and about as convincing. After all those days

nobody could figure out how to get my mother and me on the phone

together. That's bullshit!"

"And undoubtedly timed down to hours, if not minutes," mused Luther

Considine, abruptly standing up.

"What do you mean?"

"If you're straight-arrow, and I'm pretty well convinced you are, the

bad guys had to get you out of the country before your momma joined

this undercover operation, said operation probably the only truthful

thing your kidnappers told you."

"I don't get it, Luther." Jamie frowned in bewilderment.

"It's the only thing that does make sense," said the pilot, glancing at

his watch.

"Whatever your mother's involved in concerns the maggots who snatched

you, and it's got to be mighty heavy."

"Come again?"

"Kidnapping's big-time anytime, and kidnapping the kid of an Army

officer attached to government security is executioner's meat. They

took you out of the loop and pulled you into another. Theirs."

"But why?"

"So they've got a hook into Mother Montrose." Considine walked toward

the door.

"I'll be back in a few hours. Get some rest, some sleep, if you can.

I'll keep the red letters on, no one'll bother you."

"Where are you going?"

"You've described the place where they kept you in damn clear detail,

and I've wandered all over the Bahrainian territory. I've got several

ideas where it could be; there aren't too many areas where estates like

that are built. I'll bring along a Polaroid with a dozen or so

cartridges of film. Maybe we'll get lucky."

Julian Guiderone was relaxing alone in his Lear 26 jet on the way to

his home in Bahrain, in many ways the seat of his immense financial

empire.

He always enjoyed Bahrain, its comforts and its lifestyle. Manama was

hardly as enticing as Paris or as civilized as London, but if there was

ever a place on earth where the term laissez-faire was purely applied,

it was Bahrain. Noninterference was its credo, and went beyond

economics and the marketplace to the soul of the individual, even more

so, of course, if he was among the rich.

Julian had friends there, though not close friends-he had no close

friends; they were an impediment-and he considered having several small

dinner parties, inviting a few royal pretenders, but mainly bankers and

oil barons, the true royalty.

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