The air was sharp, in spite of its being July. I heard the clinking of broken cement on twisted, exposed rebar as rats slithered in the darkness. I wanted to find him right away. I was going to kill Arje Dekker if I had to do it with my bare hands. Fortunately, I could do that. It was simple leverage, really.

I heard footsteps off to my left. They were moving quickly in my direction, so I ducked into a broken entryway. The darkness smothered all light. The steps grew louder and I tightened my grip on one of the knives. Suddenly, the footsteps stopped, then started running in the opposite direction.

Lunging from my doorway, I flipped on my flashlight, only to see a shadow ahead round the corner. I was so busy concentrating on what was in front of me, I failed to look down. Something large tripped me. I fell, immediately twisting to my right. Pulling out the knife, I hurled myself at the body. It didn’t move.

I shined the flashlight and found the unconscious form of Veronica Gale on the ground in front of me. This left me with a dilemma: I could run after Dekker, or get this woman to safety. This wasn’t her fight. She wasn’t supposed to be here. The choice was clear.

I carried her back to the truck over my good shoulder and placed her gently in the passenger seat. I started the car and drove to the ruins, honking the horn again and again. Chudruk and Sansar-Huu emerged from the darkness and climbed in.

“He drove off.” Chudruk pointed toward the airport.

“She’s bleeding,” Sansar-Huu said. “She’s been hit in the head. Her breathing is shallow.”

I wasn’t even surprised to see Dr. Baatar at the hospital. He admitted Veronica and me, giving us both CT scans and thoroughly checking us out. He assigned us to a room for the night, and Chudruk stayed to stand guard while Sansar-Huu went back to the ger. I passed out once the doctor convinced me Ronnie was all right. I slept like a stone.

Chapter Twenty-three

I’d been around a lot of dirtbags in my life. And I’d gotten to kill most of them. But none of them had ever been a real threat to me before. Maybe partly because I’d been younger, but mostly because I had been unattached. Bad guys had no leverage, nothing to threaten me with that would actually scare me in any way. Some of my cousins had been through rough times with either their kids being kidnapped or the people they loved threatened in some way. But not me.

This was new. Veronica was in danger. Because of me. And my vic had escaped his sentence because of my mistakes. This was unheard-of. I didn’t think anyone in the Bombay tribe had ever had to chase a vic. We always took them out where they stood.

My confidence, for the first time in my life, was shaken. I couldn’t just walk away from this one. And I didn’t know what to do. My number one task was to hunt down Arje Dekker and kill him so that Veronica was safe.

“Uh…” Veronica shifted on the hospital bed.

“Veronica?” I asked gently, closing the gap between our beds.

“Cy?” She looked up at me and frowned, then closed her eyes.

“You’re all right. The doctor says you are fine. We’re booked on the next flight home.” There was no reaction. But even if she was unconscious, it made me feel good to tell her that she was safe. Of course, I left out that the next flight home was on the Bombay family’s private plane, but I figured she didn’t need to hear that.

My biggest concern was Dekker. He was gone, and I was convinced that he knew that I was going to kill him. And I would kill him. There was no doubt about that.

Chudruk and Sansar-Huu went back to get Veronica’s and my things. I stepped out of the room to make a phone call.

“Missi?” I said quietly as my cousin answered. “I’m going to need the family jet and some information on Dekker’s whereabouts.”

“Hey, Coney!” came a voice that was not Missi’s. “It’s Monty. Mom’s on assignment.”

Damn. I really needed her. She was the one person who could get me what I needed. Leave it to the Bombay Council to send her out when she was our best techie.

“The jet will be there tomorrow morning.” Monty’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Who’s Dekker?”

Montgomery Bombay was one of Missi’s twin teenage sons. “Look, Monty, I appreciate the help. But you don’t have the chops yet to-”

“Okay, got it. Arje Dekker, on a flight to Berlin, then on to London. I can have you two land at Heathrow at the same time.”

“Um, okay.” You know, I shouldn’t be surprised by anything that happens in this family.

Monty sighed on the other end. “I just hacked into the system. It’s not like it was hard.”

“Sorry, kid. I underestimated you.”

“And I’m not a kid. You guys should figure that out. Mom trained me. ”

“Sorry, Monty.” And I meant it. Underestimating any Bombay was a dangerous venture. “So what’s my ETA in London?”

A few minutes later I hung up with everything I needed to know.

By the time Chudruk and the boys showed up, Ronnie was sitting up and eating. An hour later, she was moving around the room. She made it clear that she didn’t want to talk about what had happened. I could give her that. But once we got on the plane, I would have to know. Which meant I would also have to give her some insight into who Dekker was.

We slept hard that night. And in the morning Sansar-Huu and the others met us with the pickup and all of our gear.

“Thanks, Chudruk.” I hugged my friend and shook hands with Zerleg, Zolbin and Yalta. I would truly miss them.

“It has been good to see you.” Chudruk smiled.

I turned to Zerleg and held out a slip of paper. “The dean at Yale is a good friend of mine. He owes me money. He is expecting your call.”

Zerleg looked at me, then at his uncle. He took the paper with a nod and flung his arms around me.

“You have a full scholarship, if you want it,” I wheezed as the boy crushed me to him. I didn’t tell him that the scholarship was from the Bombay Trust I had established at the Ivy League school. He didn’t really need to know that.

Veronica stared at me, but said nothing. She continued her silence as we made our way to the airport and onto our private jet. It wasn’t until we were seated and I pulled Sartre out that she finally spoke.

“You have a private jet? And how did you get Zerleg into Yale?”

“Ah. She speaks. There must be intelligent life in that body after all.”

Sartre sank her teeth into my finger. Apparently she was on Ronnie’s side.

“Don’t give me that crap, Cy.” She gripped the armrests as the plane taxied down the runway. “When are you going to tell me who you really are?”

I gave her a look. “Who I really am? You mean I still don’t fit neatly into one of your stereotypes?”

“I’m not sure you’re even human!” she shouted. “How is this possible? How does a carney have a private plane at his beck and call?”

I pulled a carrot out of my pocket and gave it to the guinea pig on my lap. She took it as if she were the queen of Sheba and deserved such things.

“My family owns this jet. We are independently wealthy.”

Ronnie sat back and chewed her lip. “I guess that explains how you got into Yale and your connections for Zerleg.”

“Don’t piss me off, Veronica. I got into Yale because of my brains. My family doesn’t believe in undue influence over things like that.” And that was sort of true. Undue influence to get your kid into a good school…no. Undue influence to use the CIA to bail your kid out of a minor skirmish in Botswana…yes. It just depended on how you looked at it.