Fault Line by BARRY EISLER

Author:BARRY EISLER [EISLER, BARRY]
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-345-51309-0
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2009-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

19 RITUAL

They drove in silence through Menlo Park, onto Sand Hill Road, and then onto 280. Ben watched the rolling green hills pass, the sky above hard blue and studded with bright white clouds. It was surreal.

He rarely had to deal with the aftermath of a job. Ordinarily he just walked away, instantly severing the connection with what was left behind. But now he had … all of this. The crazy thing was, a part of him was enjoying it. Maybe it was the giddy aftereffects of what had just happened, but the whole situation was a hell of a challenge, and he’d managed it pretty well so far.

They passed Crystal Springs Reservoir, a stretch of sparkling blue. Ben had chosen 280 over 101 because its slightly more meandering route would give him more time to think on the way to the city. But he was glad now for the views, as well. He’d forgotten how beautiful a highway this was. Even when he had been a kid here, 101 had been an eyesore— an unending stretch of billboards and sound walls and industrial buildings backed up ass-forward to the very edge of the highway.

“Why the city?” Sarah asked. “Why not an airport hotel? That would be anonymous, right? And there are dozens up and down 101.”

“You just said why,” Ben told her.

“Because it’s the first thing I thought of?”

“That’s right. It’s the first thing someone will key on if they start widening their search.”

There was a second, more important reason, but Ben didn’t mention it. San Francisco would give him better opportunities to test the girl and surprise anyone who acted on the information he was going to feed her.

“I don’t know about anyone else,” Alex said, “but I haven’t had breakfast. Can we stop somewhere for a cup of coffee, maybe a muffin?”

“Whatever you want,” Ben said.

“I know a place,” Sarah said. “Ritual Coffee Roasters, on Valencia, in the Mission. Take the San Jose Avenue exit, then bear left on—”

“I know how to get to the Mission,” Alex said. “Just tell me the cross street.”

“Between Twenty-first and Twenty-second.”

Ben didn’t like that Sarah had just selected the place they were going, but he couldn’t find a tactical reason to object. She didn’t have a cell phone. She couldn’t warn anyone of anything. So unless Ritual Coffee Roasters was in fact a front for some diabolical organization of which Sarah was a secret member, they would probably be okay there.

Briefly.

Ben noticed the place first from the crowd in front of it—a line stretching twenty feet out of the store, mostly twentysomething hipsters with facial hair or piercings or both. Overhead was a red sign punctuated by the white outline of a coffee cup with a star above it that reminded Ben vaguely of the flag of communist China. It took them ten minutes to find a place to park because the street was jam-packed and Ben refused to let Alex park the car illegally, even if they were just running inside.

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