apartment, and he sat at the desk. He switched on his laptop and waited for the programs to boot. Pam had finally grabbed hold of her emotions. She was like that. Her moods ran in waves. Soaring highs and cavernous lows. She was a lawyer, like him, but where he'd worked for the government, she handled high-stakes trials for Fortune 500 companies that could afford to pay her firm's impressive fees. When she'd first gone to law school he'd thought the decision a reflection of him, a way for them to share a life together. Later he'd learned it was a way for her to gain independence.
That was Pam.
The laptop was ready. He accessed his mailbox.
Empty.
"Nothing here."
Pam rushed toward him. "What do you mean? He said to open your e-mail."
"That was two days ago. And by the way, how did you get here?"
"They had a ticket, already bought."
He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Are you nuts? What you did was give them a two-day head start."
"Don't you think I know that?" she yelled. "You think I'm a complete idiot? They told me my phones were tapped and I was being watched. If I varied from their instructions, even a little, Gary was dead. They showed me a picture." She caught herself and tears flowed anew. "His eyes...oh, his eyes." She broke down again. "He was scared."
His chest throbbed and his temples burned. He'd intentionally left behind a life of daily danger to find something new. Had that life now hunted him down? He grabbed the edge of the desk. It would do no good for both of them to fall apart. If whoever they were wanted Gary dead, then he was already. No. Gary was a bargaining chip-a way to apparently gain his undivided attention.
The laptop dinged.
His gaze shot to the screen's lower-right corner: RECEIVING MAIL. Then he saw GREETINGS appear on the FROM line and YOUR SON'S LIFE noted as the subject. He maneuvered the cursor and opened the e-mail.
YOU HAVE SOMETHING I WANT. THE ALEXANDRIA LINK. YOU HID IT AND YOU'RE THE ONLY PERSON ON EARTH WHO KNOWS WHERE TO FIND IT. GO GET IT. YOU HAVE 72 HOURS. WHEN YOU HAVE IT, HIT THE NUMBER 2 BUTTON ON THE PHONE. IF I DON'T HEAR FROM YOU AT THE END OF 72 HOURS, YOU WILL BE CHILDLESS. IF DURING THAT TIME YOU SCREW WITH ME, YOUR SON WILL LOSE A VITAL APPENDAGE. 72 HOURS. FIND IT AND WE'LL TRADE.
Pam was standing behind him. "What's the Alexandria Link?"
He said nothing. He couldn't. He was indeed the only person on earth who knew, and he'd given his word.
"Whoever sent that message knows all about it. What is it?"
He stared at the screen and knew there'd be no way to trace the message. The sender, like himself, surely knew how to use black holes-computer servers that randomly routed e-mails through an electronic maze. Not impossible to follow, but difficult.
He stood from the chair and ran a hand through his hair. He'd meant to get a haircut yesterday. He worked the sleep from his shoulders and sucked a few deep breaths. He'd earlier slipped on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt that hung open, exposing a gray undershirt, and he was suddenly chilled by fear.
"Dammit, Cotton-"
"Pam, shut up. I have to think. You're not helping."
"I'm not helping? What the-"
The cell phone rang. Pam lunged for it, but he cut her off and said, "Leave it."
"What do you mean? It could be Gary."
"Get real."
He scooped up the phone after the third ring and pushed TALK.
"Took long enough," the male voice said in his ear. He caught a Dutch accent. "And please, no if-you-hurt-that-boy-I'm-going-to-kill-you bravado. Neither one of us has the time. Your seventy-two hours have already started."
Malone stayed silent, but he recalled something he learned long ago. Never let the other side set the bargain. "Stick it up your ass. I'm not going anywhere."
"You take a lot of risks with your son's life."
"I see Gary. I talk to him. Then, I go."
"Take a look outside."
He rushed to the window. Four stories down Højbro Plads was still quiet, except for two figures standing on the far side of the cobbled expanse.
Both silhouettes shouldered weapons.
Grenade launchers.
"Don't think so," the voice said in his ear.
Two projectiles shot through the night and obliterated the windows below him.
Both exploded.
Chapter Two
TWO
VIENNA, AUSTRIA
2:12 AM
THE OCCUPANT OF THE BLUE CHAIR WATCHED AS ONE CAR DEPOSITED two occupants under a lighted porte cochere. Not a limousine or anything