The Coptic Secret by Gregg Loomis

Author:Gregg Loomis [Loomis, Gregg]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Suspense
ISBN: 9781428511408
Publisher: DP
Published: 2009-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIVE

I.

Alitalia Flight 171

Between Rome and Atlanta

Four Hours Later

Lang luxuriated in the first-class seat as he accepted his second glass of champagne. Well, Spumante, a discrepancy more than compensated for by being able to actually extend his legs while he enjoyed it. The past few days hadn’t exactly been the rehab his surgeon had recommended. Wriggling his toes in the thick airline-issue socks, he gazed down on the rugged Alpine region below, replaying his last hours in Rome.

After a hasty exit from Father Strentenoplis’s apartment building and shedding priestly garb, he had headed back toward the Vatican, stopping only long enough to dump the .45 from the Ponte Vittorio Emanuele into the sluggish green Tiber.

He had not even considered returning to Viktor’s to collect his passport. It was too likely the men he had encountered in the ghetto yesterday had observed him coming in or out of the building. That they knew about the priest only strengthened this supposition. He would need to find translation of the gospel elsewhere, preferably somewhere someone wasn’t trying to kill him.

He had used his BlackBerry as he walked to call up Delta’s stored number. With surprising accommodation, they booked him on that afternoon’s flight on Alitalia.

He had no sooner disconnected than the device buzzed, this time showing his office number.

“Sara?”

“It’s me, Lang. You all right?”

Just swell, Sara. Twice in as many days, somebody has tried to kill me. I’ve been forced to seriously burn one man, maybe crack the skull of another and shoot one more to death. I’m not forgetting being responsible for yet one more getting his throat slit and the disappearance of a priest. I’m a one-man plague, but I’m just peachy keen. “What’s up?”

“I thought you’d like to know, a Larry Henderson called last night. Says he knows you. He’s in the federal pretrial detention center in Macon on what I gather are a number of charges related to growing marijuana. He’s got an arraignment in front of a magistrate coming up.”

Larry Henderson.

The name was familiar but just out of his memory’s reach. Lang was puzzled for other reasons, too.

“I’m still on medical leave of absence from the various courts, I don’t practice outside the Atlanta area and I sure as hell don’t defend dope dealers. None of this is news. What’s special about this guy?”

“He said to remind you of your house in Lamar County.”

It all came back to Lang like a yo-yo on a string. Shit! A real pain in the ass when you owe someone, really owe them, and they come around to collect. Especially when your own plate is full of assassins who want you dead.

On the other hand . . .

“Have someone tell Mr. Henderson I’ll drive down to Macon tomorrow. Call and make arrangements with the Fed Bureau of Prisons people.”

Lang terminated the call and made another, this one to Gurt.

“There’s been a change of plans,” he told her.

When he got back to the Vatican to throw his few clothes into his single bag, Francis was waiting for him.

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