Cross Country Part 6

Chapter 118.

THE TV WAS tuned to CNN. A British reporter was speaking over an image of an upscale housing complex-white two-story buildings in neat rows, shot from high above.The overlay read "Breaking News-Summit Oil Residential Compound, Bonny Island, Nigeria.""Never before have families been taken," the reporter was saying, "and certainly never this number of live hostages. In an e-mail to the international press, People for the Liberation of the Niger Delta now have claimed responsibility for the incident-with these shocking images attached to their message."The screen switched to grainy infrared video.Dozens of people sat along the floor of a dark hallway. Their heads were covered and hands tied, but it was easy to tell there were men, women, and children on the film. Some of them were crying, others moaning piteously."Those are British and American citizens," Amba.s.sador Oweleen informed me. "Every one of them. Consider yourself lucky to get a flight out of here at all.""What flight? When?"He held up a hand, looking back at the TV. "Look at this, will you? Do you see what's happening?" Armed troops were streaming out of a truck single file.The British reporter went on: "Government forces have established a perimeter around the entire complex, while economic pressure mounts internationally."With more attacks promised, oil-production facilities are shutting down regionwide, approaching an unprecedented seventy percent slowdown, which is considered to be catastrophic.""Chinese, French, Dutch, and of course US interests in particular are at stake. Under normal trade conditions, Nigeria provides about twenty percent of American oil."A phone buzzed on the desk. Amba.s.sador Oweleen picked it up. "Yes?" he said, and then, "Send them in.""Sir," I tried again. "I'm not asking for much. I just need to make one phone call-""We'll get you a shower and some fresh clothes right away. And we'll take care of any immigration issues. We can get you a new pa.s.sport right away. But then you're gone. Forget about your manhunt. As of right now, it's over."I finally snapped at him. "I don't need a shower! Or fresh clothes. I need you to listen to me. I just witnessed a reporter named Adanne Tansi being murdered at the Kirikiri Prison. She was writing an important story that has relevance to the violence near the oil fields."The doors to the office opened, and Oweleen's eyes s.h.i.+fted right past me. It was as though the moment I raised my voice, I'd lost him. He didn't even respond to what I'd said.He spoke directly to the double marine escort waiting there. "We're all done here. Take Detective Cross downstairs and get him cleaned up for travel back to the US."

Chapter 119.

THE TWO MARINES were polite and respectful enough but very mission oriented as they escorted me to a subbas.e.m.e.nt locker room.It had tall wooden lockers and a faded carpet, a tiled steam room and whirlpool, and a small area for showering. As promised, I was given a fresh towel.One of the marines asked me my trouser, s.h.i.+rt, and shoe size and then left. The other marine told me I had about ten minutes to shower and dress, so I ought to get started. Both of the marines were black-probably no coincidence there.There were four stalls, each with a curtained changing cubicle in front. I stood inside the last one, my mind racing while the clock ran down on my time in the country.What was I going to do? There were no windows in the room, and there was only one exit. I turned on the water, just to sound busy.Then I leaned in and let it pour over my head.Suddenly my whole body was shaking. I was remembering Adanne, and that had to stop, for now, anywayA minute later, I heard someone moving around outside. A curtain slid open and closed. One of the other showers was turned on.Someone was humming that James Blunt ballad that was always on the radio, the one where he keeps repeating the word beautiful.I took off the remnants of my s.h.i.+rt. Then I stuck my head under the water again, and leaned back out, dripping on the floor."Hey, can you get me another towel?" I asked the guard.I had noticed there were stacks of them by the entrance when we'd come in."Why do you need two?" he leaned inside the shower and said."Are you kidding? You saw the way I look. And smell."He shook his head but went to get the extra towel."Thanks," I called.I immediately stepped over to the other cubicle, holding the curtain rings to keep them from singing on the bar.Whoever was showering next to me had hung his clothes on a hook in the changing stall.I rifled through the pants pockets and found just what I was hoping for-a cell phone.Seconds later, I was back in my own stall-just before the marine looped a white terry towel over the top of the bar. "You'd better pick up the pace," he said from outside the curtain.I turned the shower up as hard-and as loud-as it would go.Then I dialed Ian Flaherty's number.He answered himself.

Chapter 120.

"FLAHERTY," I SAID. "It's Alex Cross.""Cross? Where are you?""I'm at the consulate. I'm in Africa. They're sending me out of the country. It's going down right now. I need you to talk to someone and get it stopped. I'm close to the b.a.s.t.a.r.d, the Tiger."He didn't even pause before he answered. "No can do. I can't cover for you anymore.""I don't need you to cover for me. Adanne Tansi is dead-he killed her. I need you to make a call or two. I can break this case now.""You don't get it," Flaherty said. "You're done over here. Game over. Go home and stay there. Forget about Abi Sowande. Or whatever his name is now."The water in the other shower stopped. The man in there started whistling. I hit the heel of my hand against my forehead, putting it all together. Flaherty hadn't been covering for me at all. 1 had this all wrong, right from the beginning."I was covering for you, wasn't I?" I said.The whistling in the next stall stopped for a second and then continued."That's why you wanted people thinking I was CIA. I was out in the open. While you played covert, I was a useful distraction.""Listen." I could hear in Flaherty's voice that he was done. "I've got to run. We saved your bacon a couple of times. Be thankful. There's a war going on here. Get the h.e.l.l out of Dodge-call me from the States.""Flaherty!"He hung up at the same time that the shower curtain flew open.The marine who'd fetched the towel was there and looking totally p.i.s.sed off. He pushed me into the wall and pinned my wrist. I didn't struggle with him. For one thing, my shoulder was howling with pain. When he reached for the cell phone, I just opened my hand and let him take it.Game over, all right.I was going home.Whether I wanted to or not.Honestly, I had mixed feelings.

Chapter 121.

I LEFT THE consulate pretty much the way I'd left Kirikiri-as a captive. This time, of the American government. I wondered if I could possibly get away again. And did I really want to?One of the marine escorts drove, while the other sat in back with me. Worse, they had handcuffed me to him. I guess they'd decided I wanted to do this the hard way.The main gates to the consulate were closed as we drove toward them. No one was waiting to get in anymore.The demonstrators had swollen in number, though. They were lined along the fence, holding on to it like they would jail bars, cursing against all things American, as well as the life that fate had dealt them.Once we were through the main gates, the crowd closed in around us.Bodies pressed against the car windows, palms slapped on the gla.s.s, and fists beat the roof. I could see anger and fear in their eyes, the frustration of lifetimes of injustice and misery."What do these people want?" the young marine in back with me asked. His name tag said Owens. "Those hostages in the Delta are Americans and Brits. They're probably going to die.""What do they want?" the marine at the wheel said. "They want us not to be here."And n.o.body wants me here, I was thinking, not even the Americans. n.o.body wants to hear the truth either.

Chapter 122.

THE ROADWAYS TO Murtala were even more crowded and bustling than the last time I'd been here-if that was possible. We parked at the very same air base Adanne and I had used to go to Sudan. We had to take a shuttle from there.The bus was jammed with American families presumably headed home or at least out of Nigeria. Everyone was talking nonstop about the terrifying hostage drama in the Delta. No one had been freed yet, and everybody was afraid the hostages would be killed soon.The surprise to me was how little attention anyone gave to two men handcuffed together. I guess these people had other things on their minds besides me and my marine guard.The terminal at the airport was overflowing, noisy, and as chaotic as the scene of a bombing. We burrowed our way in to a security office to arrange a walk-through to the plane.Apparently the handcuffs weren't coming off until I was buckled in tight and pointed toward home.The waiting area was packed, like everywhere else, with all eyes turned toward a single TV. It was tuned to an African channel.The female reporter had a Yoruban accent, just like Adanne's, and it was the strangest thing, but that's what finally put me over the edge. Tears started to roll down my cheeks, and I began to shake as if I had a fever."You okay, man?" the marine cuffed to me asked. He seemed like a good man, actually. He was just doing a job, and doing it well."Yeah, yeah," I said. "I'm fine."Still, I wasn't the only one crying in the room. With good reason. Nigerian troops had moved in on the Bonny Island complex in what was supposed to be a "rescue mission." Instead, all thirty-four hostages were now dead. Open fighting had broken out all through the Delta region. Riots were reported in at least two other states in the south.The images of the slaughtered hostages were shocking by American news standards. The hostages were lying on the floor of the corridor, adults and children both. The bodies were slumped and fallen, draped over one another, with bloodstained clothes, and hoods still over their heads.One woman near me let out a piercing scream. Her family was still down in the Delta. Everyone else was quietly fixated on the screen."Governors' offices in Rivers, Delta, and Bayelsa states have issued warnings," the reporter went on. "Local citizens are urged to avoid all but the most necessary travel for at least the next twenty-four hours. Full curfew is in effect. Violators will be arrested, or possibly shot."The marine cuffed to me, Owens, spoke. "Your plane is boarding. Let's go, Detective Cross. h.e.l.l, I wish 1 could go with you. I'm from DC myself. I'd like to go home. I miss it. You have no idea."I took a number from Owens and promised to call his mother when I got back.A few minutes later we were all being led out to the airplane. I heard someone call my name and I looked to one side, toward the terminal building.What I saw there froze my blood and seemed to change everything.Father Bombata was looking right at me, and he raised his small hand and waved.Standing beside him, towering over the priest-if he was indeed a priest-was the Tiger. Abi Sowande. The monster ran his thumb across his throat.What was that supposed to mean-that this wasn't finished?h.e.l.l, I knew that.It wasn't over by a long shot. I had never given up on a case yet.But maybe the Tiger already knew that.

Part Four

HOME AGAIN, HOME AGAIN.

Chapter 123.

I KNEW I had failed.And I knew, and had known for a long time, that I'd already witnessed and investigated enough murders and bloodshed to last me for a couple of lifetimes. Nothing had prepared me for the insane mayhem and horrors of the past few weeks: torture and episodes of genocide; suffering by innocent women and children; finally, the senseless murders of Adanne Tansi and her family.I wanted nothing more than to escape into sleep for a few hours on the plane to London, where I would eventually connect with a flight to Was.h.i.+ngton.But I couldn't stop the terrible nightmare images from my time in Africa: Again and again I saw Adanne's murder and rape by the monstrous Tiger.And what had come of the murders of Adanne and her family? What had been accomplished beyond a failed chase after the killer called Tiger? Wliai of all the other deaths here that would never be avenged, or even properly memorialized? What of the secrets Adanne had shared with me?I woke with a s.h.i.+ver as the flight descended into London's Gatwick. I had slept some and now I felt groggy and had an upset stomach and a splitting headache.Maybe it was just my paranoia, but the Virgin Nigeria flight attendants seemed to have avoided me for most of the trip.I needed water now and an aspirin. I signaled the attendants, who were collecting cups and soda cans before we landed. "Excuse me?" I called out.I was certain the women had seen me signal, but I was ignored by them again.Finally, I did something I don't remember ever having done on a flight. I hit the "Attendant" b.u.t.ton. Several times. That got me a stern look from the closer of the flight attendants. She still didn't come to see what I needed.I got up and went to her. "I don't know what I've done to offend you-," I began.She cut me off."I will tell you. You are a most ugly American. Most Americans are that way, but you are even more so. You have caused suffering to those you came into contact with. And now you want my help? No. Not even a cold drink. The seat belt light is on. Return to your seat."I took her arm and held it lightly but firmly. Then I turned and looked around toward the cabin.I was hoping to see someone watching us, someone who had spoken to the flight attendants about me.No one seemed to be looking our way. Nor did I recognize anyone."Who told you about me?" I asked. "Someone on the plane? Who was it? Show me."She shook herself loose. "You figure it out. You are the detective." Then she walked away and didn't look back. That angry face of hers and the mystery of her anger toward me followed me all the way home.

Chapter 124.

THE NEXT TWELVE hours of the trip pa.s.sed very slowly, but finally I arrived in Was.h.i.+ngton. I wasn't able to reach Nana to tell her I was home. So I just grabbed a taxi waiting at Reagan International and headed to Fifth Street.It was a little past nine and the nighttime traffic was heavy, but I was glad to be in DC again. Sometimes it feels that way when I come home after a long, hard trip, and this time certainly qualified. I couldn't wait to be in my own house, my own bed.Once I was in the cab, I got lost in a kind of jet-lagged reverie.No one had any idea about the carnage and suffering until they actually visited parts of Nigeria, Sudan, Sierra Leone-and there were no easy answers or solutions either. I didn't believe that the violence I had seen came from regular people being evil. But those at the top were, at least some of them.And then there were psychopaths on the loose, like the Tiger and the other killers for hire, the wild boys. The fact that terrible conditions might have made them killers hardly seemed to matter.The irony that kept jabbing at me was that I'd spent the last dozen years chasing murderers in the States, and it seemed like child's play now, nothing compared with what I'd seen in the past weeks.I was shaken out of my reverie when the cab slid over to the side of the road. What was wrong now? I was home, and still misfortune followed me? What-aflat tire?The driver peered back and nervously announced, "Engine trouble. I am sorry. Very sorry." Then he pulled a gun and yelled, "Traitor! Die!"

Chapter 125.

SOMEBODY WAS STUBBORNLY ringing the front-door bell at the Cross house. Ringing it again and again and again.Nana was in Ali's bedroom, putting him down the way he liked her to, lying in bed next to him until the sweet boy drifted off to sleep as she whispered the words of a favorite story.Tonight the book was Ralph S. Mouse, and Ali wouldn't stop giggling at every page, often a couple of times on the same page, saying, "Read it again, Nana. Read it again."Nana waited patiently for Jannie to get the front door. But it rang again, and then again. Persistent and rude and maddening. Jannie had been making a cake in the kitchen. Where was that girl? Why didn't she answer the door?"Now who can it be?" Nana mumbled as she pushed herself up and out of Ali's bed. "I'll be right back, Ali--Janelle, you are trying my patience, and that's not a good idea."But when she got to the living room, Nana Mama saw that Janelle was already at the door-which was flung wide open.A strange boy in a red Houston Rockets basketball s.h.i.+rt was still ringing the bell."Are you some kind of a crazy person?" Nana called out as she hobbled quickly across the foyer. "Stop that bell ringing this instant! Just stop it now. What do you want here so late? Do I know you, son?"The boy in the Rockets jersey finally took his hand off the bell. Then he held up a sawed-off shotgun for Nana to see, but she kept coming forward until she protectively held Jannie."I will kill dis stupid girl in a second," he said. "And I will kill you, of woman. I will not hesitate jus' 'cause you de detective's family."

Chapter 126.

IT ALL HAPPENED so fast in the taxi and caught me completely off guard and unprepared, but I saw a chance, and I had to take it.I didn't think the cab driver was an experienced killer. He'd hesitated instead of just pulling the trigger and shooting me.So I lurched forward and grabbed the gun and his hand at the same time.Then I smashed his wrist against the taxi's metal part.i.tion. I smashed it again as hard as I could.The man yelped loudly and he let go of the gun. I pulled it away and swung it toward him.Suddenly he ducked low and then flung himself out the front door.I jumped out the back door, but he was already scampering down a gra.s.sy hill. Then he disappeared into a thicket of woods off to the side of the highway.I had a shot with his gun, but I didn't take it. He'd called me "traitor." Just like the flight attendant.Did he believe that, or was he doing what he'd been told?I pictured the man's face, gaunt, a goatee, maybe in his midtwenties. A soldier? A thug? His accented English showed hints of a Nigerian dialect. So Who had sent him after me-the Tiger? Somebody else? Who?I tried not to speculate on conspiracy theories right now. Not here, not yet.The keys were still in the ignition, and without much deliberation 1 decided to drive the taxi home. I'd call Metro once I was there.But what would I tell them-how much of this strange and disturbing story?And how much would I tell Nana? She wouldn't be happy to see me like this: driving a cab-taken from the driver, who had wanted to kill me.

Chapter 127.

IT TOOK ONLY a few minutes for me to get to the house on Fifth Street.I parked the cab out on the street. Suddenly I was sprinting toward the house. On the way home, I had started to worry about Nana and the kids.Was everyone all right? Maybe this was just more paranoia on my part. But maybe it wasn't. The Tiger went after families, didn't he? And someone had just tried to kill me. I wasn't making that up.I was startled by Rosie the cat, who snuck up behind me on the front lawn.Who had let Rosie out? She was a committed indoor cat. 1 could see she was highly agitated. Why was that? What had happened? What had Rosie seen?"Nana," I called as I ran up the front steps. "Nana!"I turned the k.n.o.b-and the door wasn't locked.That wasn't right either. n.o.body left their doors unlocked in Southeast, especially Nana."Nana!... Kids!" I called as I let myself in and began hurrying though the downstairs part of the house. I didn't want to scare them just because I was frightened out of my skull.Still?I stopped in the kitchen because it was a complete disaster area. I'd never seen it like this. It looked like someone had been making a cake and had stopped in the middle of things.But that wasn't all that had happened here. Chairs had been turned over. Plates and gla.s.ses were broken on the floor.So was a mixing bowl that looked like it had held vanilla frosting. Nana had been making a cake-lucky for me.I pulled out the gun I'd taken from the taxi driver.Then I started upstairs, unable to get my breath. I tried not to trample on Rosie as we hurried up there together.Quietly.And quickly.

Chapter 128.

I CHECKED ALL the bedrooms on the second floor. Then my office in the attic. Finally I went down to the cellar.There was nothing, no one, anywhere in the house.Finally, I called Metro and reported the possible kidnapping of my family.Within minutes, three cruisers pulled up in front. Their roof lights were flas.h.i.+ng ominously. I came outside just as Sampson arrived.I explained to John what I knew so far. He stood with me on the porch, where I was holding Rosie, holding on to her for support, really. Everything felt unreal and I was numb from my head to my feet."It's the Tiger, has to be him. Something about what happened in Africa," I said to John. "I almost got shot on the way from the airport." I pointed toward the taxi sitting on the street. "Cab driver pulled a gun on me.""They're alive, Alex," Sampson said and put an arm around me. "They have to be.""I hope you're right. Otherwise, they would have killed them here, like Ellie and her family""They must think you know something. Do you, Alex?""Not very much," I told Sampson. But it was a white lie.I heard a woman's scream then. "Alex!... Alex!"Bree! She was running down the block from where she'd had to leave her car. The police had completely blocked off Fifth Street now. It was starting to look like one of those gruesome crime scenes that I hated to be called in on. Only this time, it was my house, my family."What is it, Alex? I just got the call. Saw the address. What happened?""Somebody took Nana, Ali, and Jannie," Sampson told Bree. "That's what it looks like."Bree came into my arms and held me tight. "Oh, Alex, Alex, no." She made no empty promises, just gave me the only comfort she could. Her embrace, a few whispered words."No note, no message?" she finally asked."I didn't find anything. We should look again. I don't think I was too clearheaded the first time I looked. I know I wasn't.""You think you ought to go back in there right now?" she said and took my arm."I have to. Come with me. Both of you, come."We all went back into the house.

Chapter 129.

WHILE BREE AND Sampson started looking around, I called Damon's school and talked to the headmaster, then got Damon on the line. I told him to pack some things. We would be moving him soon. Sampson had already made the arrangements for him to be picked up. "Why do I have to come home?" Damon wanted to know."You're not coming home right now. Not yet. It isn't safe here. Not for any of us."I joined Bree and Sampson and we searched the house for several hours, but there was nothing for us to find. No message left anywhere. The only evidence of a struggle was the mess in the kitchen and a tangled runner in the foyer.I thought to check my computer, but there was nothing there either. No messages had been left anywhere. No threats. No explanation of any kind. Was that the message?I decided to place a call to Lagos next. It was eight a.m. there.I reached lan Flaherty's office, but he didn't pick up himself this time."Mr. Flaherty is not here at the moment," said his a.s.sistant. She sounded nervous."Do you know where he is or when he's expected back?" I asked her. "It's important that I talk to him.""I'm sorry, I don't. There is a lot going on here, sir. It's a very bad situation.""Yes, I know. May I leave a message for him?""Of course.""Tell him that Alex Cross is back in Was.h.i.+ngton. They've taken my family. I think it's the Tiger or his people who did this. I need to talk to him. Please make sure that he gets this message. It could be a matter of life or death.""Yes, sir," said the a.s.sistant, "it always is."

Chapter 130.

SAMPSON, BREE, AND I stayed in the house another hour or so. We searched every room again, looking for anything to work with.But I understood that the two of them were here to make sure I was all right, especially since I was showing a few cracks.Finally I told John to go home to his family and get some sleep.No one had called or tried to get a message to me."There are two squad cars outside," Sampson said. "They'll stay here the rest of the night. Don't argue with me about it.""I know. I can see them.""That's the idea, sugar. They're supposed to be seen.""Make sure they're on their toes," Bree said. "I'll be here too. Tell them I'll be checking."Sampson hugged Bree, then did the same with me. There was no cop humor tonight, no making light of this. "Anything-you call," he told me.Then he started out the kitchen door. He stopped and turned back. "I'll talk to the men outside. Maybe put on one more car."I didn't bother to agree or disagree. I was in no shape to make decisions right now. "Thank you.""We'll be fine," Bree said."I have no doubt," Sampson said and nodded. "Call me if anything happens!" Finally he shut the door behind him.I went over and locked the door, which would give us an extra few seconds if somebody tried to come in. Maybe we'd need it."You all right with this?" Bree asked.I nodded. "You staying with me? Of course I am."She drifted over and hugged me again. "Let's go upstairs, then." She took my hand. "Alex, come."I let Bree take me upstairs. I was numb and in a faraway dreamscape anyway."There's a phone in here," she said as we entered the bedroom. Then she hugged me again and reached down and started to unhook my belt. I didn't think that was what I needed, but I was wrong about that.Until the phone in the bedroom rang.

Chapter 131.

THE CALLS TO the house started at a few minutes past four in the morning. Hang-ups, one after the other, virtually nonstop.The calls were emotional torture for me, but I answered every time; and I didn't dare take the phone off the hook. How could I? The phone was my lifeline to Nana and the kids. Whoever was calling had them. I had to believe that.Bree and I held each other through the night, probably the worst night of my life.I told her some of what I'd done and seen in Africa-about the horrors and Adanne and her family-their senseless murders. But I also talked about the goodness and naturalness of the people; their helplessness, caught in a nightmare they hadn't created and didn't want."And this Tiger, what more did you learn about that b.a.s.t.a.r.d, Alex?""Terrorist, a.s.sa.s.sin-seems to work both sides of the street.Anyone who pays him. He's the most violent killer I've ever seen, Bree. He likes to hurt people. And there are others like him. It's a name they have for killers for hire: Tiger.""So he took Nana and the kids? He did this? You're sure about that?""Yes," I said as the phone rang again. "And that's him."The phone kept ringing-and I began to pace around the house, going from room to room, thinking about my family all the while. Rosie followed me everywhere.In the kitchen, Nana's favorite cookbook was still out-The Gift of Southern Cooking. I checked and saw it was open to a starred recipe for chocolate-pecan cake.Nana's famous gabardine raincoat was draped over the back of a kitchen chair. How many times had she told me, "I don't want another raincoat. It took me half a century to get this one worn in right"?I walked around Ali's room.I saw his Pokemon cards laid out carefully on the floor. His beloved plush toy Moo. A hand-painted T-s.h.i.+rt from his fifth birthday party. A copy of Ralph S. Mouse spread open on the night table.When I got to Jannie's room, I sat down heavily on the bed. My eyes ran over her precious collection of books. And the wire baskets br.i.m.m.i.n.g with hair accessories, lip glosses, fruit-scented lotions. Then I spotted her reading gla.s.ses, prescribed only a month or so ago. That got to me. There was something so vulnerable and telling about her new gla.s.ses sitting on the desk.I sat there holding Rosie and heard the phone ring again. Bree picked it up.She said, very quietly, "f.u.c.k you."And she hung up on whoever it was this time.

Chapter 132.

I WAS GOING to get my family back. I had to believe that. But was it true? What were the real odds that I would? They were definitely getting worse.From six-thirty until close to seven that morning, I sat out on the front porch and tried not to go completely crazy. I thought about taking a drive, to see if it would relax me.But I was afraid to be away from the house for any length of time.At a little past seven, the phone hang-ups stopped and I got about an hour of sleep.Then I showered and dressed and called in one of the patrolmen from the street. 1 told him to take any calls for me and gave him a cell number where I could be reached.At nine, Bree and I attended an emergency meeting at the Daly Building.I was surprised to find about a dozen officers inside the conference room. These were top people too, the best in Was.h.i.+ngton. I understood that it was a show of support and concern for me. Most of the detectives were people I'd worked with on other cases. Chief of Detectives Davies, Bree, and Sampson had reached out to officers with street connections who might help locate my family.If anyone could.

Chapter 133.

FROM THERE, THE day got stranger and stranger for me.At eleven o'clock, I faced a smaller group inside a win-dowless conference room at CIA headquarters out at Langley. The atmosphere in the room couldn't have been more different from the one at Daly. Everyone except me wore a suit and tie. The body language was stiff and uncomfortable. No one wanted to be there except me - I needed their help.A case officer from the National Clandestine Service * named Merrill Snyder greeted me with a firm handshake and the unpromising line "Thanks for coming to see us, Dr. Cross.""Can we start?" I asked him."We're just waiting for one more," Snyder said. "There's coffee, soft drinks.""Where's Eric Dana?" I asked, remembering the leader's name from the last time I'd been out to Langley."He's on vacation. The man we're waiting on is his superior. Sure you don't want some coffee?""No, I'm fine. I don't need any more caffeine this morning, trust me.""I understand. You still haven't heard from whoever abducted your family?" Snyder asked. "No communication?"Before I could answer him, the door to the conference room swung wide open. A tall, dark-haired man in his early forties, wearing a gray suit and silver-and-red-striped tie, entered. He carried himself like someone important, which he probably was.And right behind him came... Ian Flaherty.

Chapter 134.

THE MAN EVERYONE had been waiting for introduced himself as Steven Millard. He said he was with National Clandestine Service but gave no rank. 1 remembered now that Al Tunney had mentioned his name before I went to Africa. Millard was the group chief, who'd been involved from the start.All Flaherty said was, "Dr. Cross.""Has there been any word about your family?" Millard wanted to know right off.Snyder cut in. "No word so far. They haven't contacted him.""There are cops from Metro at my house now," I told them."They'll answer my phone and call me.""That's good. About all you can do," said Millard. I couldn't figure out what to make of him. I was sure he knew about my meeting with Eric Dana before I'd left for Africa, but how much more did Millard know?"I need whatever help you can give me," I finally said. "I really need some help.""You can count on it," said Millard. "But I have a couple of questions you might be able to help us out with first. Detective Cross, why did you go to Africa in the first place?""A friend of mine and her entire family were killed. I had a lead that the killer fled to Lagos. It was my homicide case."Millard nodded and seemed to understand. "Tell me this, then, what did you learn in Africa? Something useful, I a.s.sume? Otherwise, why would this professional killer want to come after you and your family in Was.h.i.+ngton?""I was hoping maybe you could help me out with that. What's going on in Nigeria and here in Was.h.i.+ngton too? Can you tell me?"Millard clasped, then unclasped, his hands. "Did you see anything unusual or unsettling in Nigeria? We need to figure out why this killer would want to come after you here. You're a well-known police officer. This Tiger, or whoever it is, wouldn't want to take the risk unless he had to. I can't imagine that he would. Unless you really p.i.s.sed him off.""You know it's him, then?""No, no, I don't know for sure. It just makes sense. Ian agrees. So what do you know, Dr. Cross?"I looked at Flaherty, then back at Millard. "You're not going to help me find my family, are you? You just want to pump me for information again?"Millard sighed, took a beat and then said, "Dr. Cross, regretfully, we think your family is dead."I stood up much too quickly from my chair, almost tipping it over."How can you say that? What do you know? What aren't you telling me? Why would they call me all night if my family's dead?"Millard stared into my eyes, then rose from his seat too. "You were advised not to get involved in this. I'm sorry for your loss. We'll help if we possibly can."Then he felt compelled to add, "We're not the bad guys here, Detective. There is no big conspiracy at work."If that was true, why did everybody have to keep saying it?

Chapter 135.

THOSE CIA b.a.s.t.a.r.dS! Even though they had been a little more human this time, I knew they were hiding something.Maybe that's why I didn't tell them what Adanne had revealed after the slaughter of her family. The meeting had been typical of my experience with them over the years.And Flaherty? After the meeting, he had gone to Langley for a "previously scheduled series of meetings." No way that was the whole truth, or anything close to it. At least I didn't think so.That night, I went home to an empty house. I'd told Bree that it might be better if I was in the house alone. I was so desperate, I was ready to try anything now.Millard's words kept coming back. Dr. Cross, regretfully, we think your family is dead.I fixed a sandwich but only nibbled the corners away. Then I watched the news stations-CNN, CNBC, FOX-but there was almost nothing about the civil war in the Delta.Unbelievable. A Hollywood actress had killed herself in LA, and that was the big story; it was being covered on every station-almost as if they all had the same news source and used the same journalists.Finally, I switched the story about the dead actress off, and the silence wasn't a good thing either. I was nearly overwhelmed by sadness and fear that I had lost Nana, Ali, and Jannie.For a long time I stayed in the kitchen, holding my head in my arms and hands. I remembered certain images, and feelings, and sensations from the past: Ali, just a little boy, and such a sweetheart; Jannie, still my "Velcro" girl, my living memory of her mother; Nana, who had saved me so many times since I'd come to DC at ten after both my parents had died.I didn't see how 1 could continue to live without them. Could I?The phone began to ring again and I s.n.a.t.c.hed up the receiver. I hoped it was the Tiger, wanting something, wanting me.But it wasn't."It's Ian Flaherty. I just wanted to check on you. See if you're all right. See if you remembered anything that could help.""Help you?" I said in a tight voice. "My family's been ' taken. My family. Do you have any idea what that's like?""I think I do. We want to help you, Dr. Cross. Just tell us what you know.""Or what, Flaherty? What else can they do to me?""The proper question is... what can they do to your family?"Flaherty left me a number where I could reach him at any time of the day or night.At least the b.a.s.t.a.r.d was staying up late too.

Chapter 136.

THE SOUND OF a ringing telephone woke me from a shallow snooze on the living room couch. I picked the phone up, still half asleep, my extremities tingling."Cross.""Go to ya moto car now. We watchin' ya house, Cross. Lights on upstairs and in di kitchen. You was sleepin' in living room."A male speaking. English with a pidgin accent. I'd heard a lot of it in the past few weeks, but I was particularly tuned into it now-every syllable."Is my family all right?" I asked. "Where are they? Just tell me that.""Bring your cell phone wit you. We have numba and we wan ya follow directions. And don't call no one or your family dead. Go now, Cross. Listen up."I was sitting up now, staring out the window in the living room, sliding my feet into my shoes.I didn't see anyone outside. No cars or lights were visible from where I was."Why should I listen to you?" I asked the caller.A second voice cut in. "Because I say you should!"The phone at the other end clicked off. The second voice had been gruff, older than the first. And I recognized it instantly.The Tiger. He was here in Was.h.i.+ngton. He had my family.