“Because we don’t yet know all their secrets, Sam. Lucy’s and Howell’s. Maybe even yours.”
“I don’t have secrets.”
“Sometimes you don’t know… what you don’t know,” she said.
“What does that mean?”
“You need to find your son. We need your talents, from time to time. You need a cover. So, I propose this: to the public, you will be given the ownership of the bars. All of them. Run them, keep them profitable.” She smiled. “The bars give you a reason to go wherever your search for your son, or wherever our assignments, take you. A cover that the Company cannot question. You do, after all, have a background in working in bars, and you need gainful employment. You will do jobs for us when needed. Jobs that require your skill set, your vision, your sense of action.”
It was a profound compliment. “They’ll still suspect. And now you’re saying I’m working against the CIA.”
“No. Against someone—probably several—inside it, who have no loyalty to the CIA, or to your government, or to humanity, for that matter. Have you not wondered if Howell had a master?” Only Mila could say the word master and have it sound cruel rather than funny. “This Novem Soles, Howell was their boy. Even with his high rank, he must have been nothing to them, just a flunky being paid. Worse will come, I think.”
I studied the bottom of my whisky glass.
“We will help you. I swear to you, Sam. Please say yes. Here.” She slipped me a DVD. “Security tape from the clinic Lucy said she had the baby at. You will see a tall, dark woman leaving Lucy’s room, carrying a baby, the day after your child was born.”
I didn’t dare to breathe.
“We can help you ID this woman. Pick up the thread.”
Find the line, I thought, just as I had raced to find it in the parkour run on that long-ago morning in London, the last normal morning of my life. Find the line.
To have a life again, I could take this secret life, for a while, to find my son. I felt the old tickle of adrenaline begin again, along my spine, curling into my brain.
I stood, turned to face the small scattering of customers in the Bluecut. I jumped, without a wobble, onto the fine leather bar stool and cleared my throat. The elegant piano player stopped. The sparse but cool midday crowd looked up at me, startled.
I put on my host’s smile and held my whisky glass up in a toast. “Ladies and gentlemen, I just acquired this bar. The drinks are on the house.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Many thanks to the amazing people who helped me, in different ways, with this book:
Mitch Hoffman, Jamie Raab, David Shelley, Ursula Mackenzie, Thalia Proctor, Daniel Mallory, Kim Hoffman, Nathalie Morse, Kati Nicholl, Richard Collins, Sean Garrehy, Sarah Jones, Shirley Stewart, Peter Ginsberg, Nathan Bransford, Dave Barbor, Holly Frederick, Sarah LaPolla, Carolyn Nordstrom, Steve Basile, Kevin Casey, Dan Edwardes, James Whitaker, Georgina Tripp, Tracy Edmonson, Wesley Skow, Jurgen Snoeren, Marc van Biezen, Judith van Doorn, Johnny Zhao, Janice Gable Bashman, Sam Bashman, JT Ellison, and, as always, William, Charles, and Leslie.
Contents
FRONT COVER IMAGE
WELCOME
DEDICATION
PART ONE: NOVEMBER 14–APRIL 10
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
PART TWO: APRIL 10–14
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
CHAPTER 52
CHAPTER 53
CHAPTER 54
CHAPTER 55
CHAPTER 56
CHAPTER 57
CHAPTER 58
CHAPTER 59
CHAPTER 60
CHAPTER 61
CHAPTER 62
CHAPTER 63
CHAPTER 64
CHAPTER 65
CHAPTER 66
CHAPTER 67
CHAPTER 68
CHAPTER 69
CHAPTER 70
CHAPTER 71
PART THREE: APRIL 14–21
CHAPTER 72
CHAPTER 73
CHAPTER 74
CHAPTER 75
CHAPTER 76
CHAPTER 77
CHAPTER 78
CHAPTER 79
CHAPTER 80
CHAPTER 81
CHAPTER 82
CHAPTER 83
CHAPTER 84
CHAPTER 85
CHAPTER 86
CHAPTER 87
CHAPTER 88
CHAPTER 89
CHAPTER 90
CHAPTER 91
CHAPTER 92
CHAPTER 93
CHAPTER 94
CHAPTER 95
CHAPTER 96
CHAPTER 97
CHAPTER 98
CHAPTER 99
CHAPTER 100
CHAPTER 101
CHAPTER 102
CHAPTER 103
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ALSO BY JEFF ABBOTT
COPYRIGHT
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JEFF ABBOTT is the internationally bestselling author of twelve novels, which are published in twenty languages. He is a three-time nominee for the Edgar Award. He lives in Austin with his family.
ALSO BY JEFF ABBOTT
A Kiss Gone Bad
Black Jack Point
Cut and Run
Panic
Fear
Run
Trust Me
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2011 by Jeff Abbott
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
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First eBook Edition: July 2011
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ISBN: 978-0-446-57519-5
