A group of young guys, probably athletes judging from the letter jackets, sat at the bar and flirted with her. She seemed to enjoy the attention, but she kept working.

One of the seats near the end was free. Dawson sat and reached for the bowl of nuts on the bar. He shelled the nuts and ate them, building a pile of fibrous hulls in front of him.

‘Hey,’ Brigid greeted him a few minutes later. Her skin glowed from the fast-paced work she’d been doing. Her smile was almost electrifying.

‘Hey,’ Dawson said and smiled. ‘You’re working too hard.’ He flattened out his ‘A’s to mimic the Boston dialect.

Brigid jerked a thumb over her shoulder to indicate a short, squat man in his forties. The guy had forearms as big as Popeye’s.

‘Tell that to my boss,’ she said.

‘Real slave driver?’

Brigid nodded, then asked, ‘What can I get you?’

‘Sam Adams.’

‘Want a glass?’

Dawson waved the offer away.

Brigid reached below the bar and pulled up a bottle of beer. She set it down and opened it, then moved it onto a napkin in front of Dawson. He slid a twenty-dollar bill across the bar.

‘Keep the change,’ he said.

The kitchen and supply room were directly behind the bar. With the crowd on hand, Dawson felt certain Brigid would have to go back there soon.

He was right.

When she did, he followed her into the short hallway. The kitchen was to his right and the supply room was to the left. Bathroom and the back exit were in the rear.

Brigid stepped into the supply room and turned on the light. She took down an armload of packages of napkins and two bags of unshelled peanuts. When she turned around to leave, Dawson blocked the way.

She tried the smile first. Girls her age always did. But she caught on quick that approach wasn’t going to fly. So she tried authority.

‘You’re not supposed to be back here.’

Dawson kept his face expressionless. ‘Do you know where your sister is?’

That caught her attention, but she tried to bluff her way through it. ‘I don’t have a sister. I have two brothers.’

‘You have zero brothers,’ Dawson told her. ‘You have one sister. Cleena MacKenna.’

‘You need to get out of here.’ She took a step forward as though she were going to bull her way past him. But he didn’t move and she stopped short of touching him. All her bravery evaporated.

‘I know where your sister is,’ Dawson said in a flat tone. ‘But I don’t have a way of getting in touch with her.’

‘If you don’t leave, I’m going to scream.’

Dawson slapped her face with his open hand, hard enough to knock her back on her heels. She dropped the packages she’d been holding.

‘You need to shut up,’ he stated, ‘and listen to me. If you scream, you’ll never see your sister again. I promise you that.’ He moved his jacket enough to show her the pistol holstered at his hip.

Brigid held her face in her hands. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She shivered in fear.

‘You’ve got a way to contact your sister when she’s out of town,’ Dawson said. ‘Just nod your head. If you try to play me, I’m going to put you in the hospital.’

She closed her eyes fearfully and nodded.

‘Good.’ Dawson reached into his shirt pocket and took out a business card that only had a phone number handwritten on it. The writing wasn’t his. ‘I need you to call her now.’

Trembling, Brigid wiped blood from her mouth and nodded.

Dawson smiled to show there were no hard feelings. ‘If she’s not there, leave her a message. I want her to call me back at this number.’ He stuck the card on top of a box of bottled beer. ‘Tell her if I don’t hear from her in the next couple of hours, she’s never going to see you again.’

Brigid shook as she cried silently, but she nodded in understanding.

‘Hey, Brigid,’ a deep voice said. ‘What’s taking so long? Those bums are outta nuts and they’re startin’ to get rowdy.’

The man with the Popeye arms came round the corner and looked at Dawson and Brigid. Dawson turned to face him.

‘Hey, what’s goin’ on here?’ he demanded.

Dawson hit the man in the throat with the Y of his hand, then drew his pistol and whipped the man down to the floor with three blows. The man didn’t even have a chance to cry out before he was an unconscious heap.

Breathing hard from the exertion, Dawson wiped blood from his face and turned back to Brigid. She finally found her voice.

‘Help! Someone help!’

Dawson grinned at her, flipped the safety off his pistol, and raised it into position beside her head. ‘You shouldn’t have done that.’

The young men who had been flirting with Brigid ran to the doorway. Dawson met them with the pistol in his fist.

‘Get back,’ he ordered coldly. ‘Get back or I’ll kill you.’

The would-be heroes griped and cursed, but they backed away before the pistol.

‘Your sister,’ Dawson said, as he eased out of the supply room and forced the young men backward. ‘Have her call me as soon as she gets your message. Understand?’

‘Yes.’

Casually, Dawson stepped over the unconscious man, held the would-be heroes at bay with the pistol, and went through the security door at the back of the bar. The alarm blatted loudly and the sound rolled through the alley.

He stepped his pace up to a jog. A full run would have inspired some of the young guys to chase after him. Young guys were wired like that. But a lope told them he wasn’t afraid. He also kept the pistol in his hand. Luck was with him at the other end of the alley. A cab coasted up the street. At this time of night, a driver could make good money running people between bars and homes. He changed cabs three more times before he headed back to the airport. By that time, with all the walking and changing bars, he was certain the police wouldn’t be able to pick up his trail.

Back aboard the private jet, Dawson settled into the comfortable seat and poured himself a glass of expensive bourbon. His heart rate was back to normal, but he kept thinking of how frightened Brigid MacKenna had been of him. A dark part of him liked that a lot. He sipped the bourbon as they waited for tower clearance, then called the vice-president.

‘It’s done, sir.’

‘Good, Jimmy. I take it you’re all right?’

‘Right as rain, sir. Couldn’t be better. There are times like this when I really regret leaving the field.’

Webster chuckled. ‘I’m glad you’re all right. And I understand completely. When something needs doing, there’s nothing like getting your hands dirty to make sure it’s done properly.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘You’re certain Miss MacKenna will be calling?’

‘Absolutely, sir.’ In his mind Dawson saw Brigid’s face etched with fear. ‘I’d say once Cleena gets the message, calling that number will be the first thing on her mind.’

‘Now then, we need to talk about what we next have on tap for Professor Lourds. We’re going to need to expose him as an enemy of our great country.’

Dawson took in a breath. ‘Sir?’

‘It’s true, Jimmy. There are some things that I haven’t yet told you, and I’m going to tell you some of them now. We’re going to need a team in Istanbul to pick the professor up as soon as he surfaces. This is a dangerous thing we’re working on, Jimmy. A lot is riding on our success. We have to be slicker than we’ve ever been before. But you and I can do this.’

Catacombs

Yesilkoy District

Istanbul, Turkey

17 March 2010

‘You’re going to kill me? If they don’t kill me, you’re going to kill me? That’s your plan?’

Cleena thought she heard anger in Lourds’ words, but it might only have been hysteria. Though either emotion would have been understandable.

‘Shut up,’ she whispered as she held tightly to Lourds. ‘I’m trying to save your life.’

‘My life?’ Lourds sounded as though he couldn’t believe it. ‘They didn’t start shooting until you grabbed me. I’d already saved my life.’