Текст книги "Cold Vengeance"
Автор книги: Lincoln Child
Соавторы: Douglas Preston
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Текущая страница: 22 (всего у книги 24 страниц)
CHAPTER 74
PENDERGAST BEGAN RUNNING TOWARD THE BOW as soon as he heard her cries. As he sprinted along the walkway, he glimpsed a flash of white plummeting into the water and saw Constance sweep past, then disappear in the darkness behind the wake.
For a moment he was paralyzed with shock. Then he understood.
He heard a voice coming from the forward deck: Esterhazy. “Aloysius!” it called out. “You hear me? Come out with your hands up. Surrender. You do that and we’ll turn the boat around. Otherwise we keep going. Hurry!”
Pendergast, his.45 drawn, didn’t move.
“If you want us to turn around, come into the open with your hands up. It’s November – you know better than anyone how cold the water is. I give her fifteen minutes, twenty at most.”
Again, Pendergast did not move. Could not move.
“We’ve got a waypoint of her location on the GPS,” Esterhazy called out. “We can find her in minutes.”
Pendergast hesitated for a final, excruciating moment. He could almost admire Esterhazy’s brilliant ploy. Then he raised his hands over his head and walked slowly forward. He came around the forecabin to see Esterhazy and two other men standing on the forecastle, weapons drawn.
“Walk toward us, slowly, hands over your head.”
Pendergast obeyed.
Esterhazy came forward, took the.45 out of his hands, and stuck it in his own waistband. Then he searched him. The search was thorough and professional. Esterhazy removed his blades, a.32 Walther, packets of chemicals, wire, and various tools. He groped through the jacket lining and found other tools and items loosely sewed up inside.
“Take your jacket off.”
Pendergast removed his jacket and dropped it on the deck.
Esterhazy turned to one of the others. “Cuff, secure, and tape him. Completely. I want him immobile as a mummy.”
One of the men came forward. Pendergast’s hands were cuffed behind his back with plastic straps. His mouth was sealed with duct tape.
“Lie down,” said the third man, speaking with a German accent.
Pendergast complied. They cuffed his ankles, then taped his wrists, arms, and legs, leaving him prone on the deck and unable to move.
“All right,” Esterhazy said to the German. “Now tell the captain to turn the boat around and pick up the girl.”
“Why?” said the man. “We achieved our objective – who cares?”
“You wanted him to talk, right? Isn’t that why he’s still alive?”
After a brief hesitation, the German spoke to the captain through his headset. A moment later, the boat slowed and began to turn.
Esterhazy checked his watch. Then he turned to Pendergast. “It’s been twelve minutes,” he said. “I hope you didn’t hesitate too long.”
CHAPTER 75
ESTERHAZY TOOK UP A DOCK LINE. “Help me tie him to these cleats,” he told Schultz.
His mind was working a mile a minute. He’d been faking bravura and an aura of command, but right below the surface he was almost beside himself with fear. He had to figure out a way to save his own skin now. But nothing came to mind. What’s the matter, Judson?Falkoner had said. You suddenly don’t trust us? I’m surprised – and hurt.
Esterhazy realized that the chances were good he was as dead as Pendergast.
The boat had come around and was now slowing as they neared the waypoint. Esterhazy moved to the bow, searching for the young woman while two spotlights from the bridge scanned the heaving sea.
“There!” said Esterhazy as one spotlight picked up a flash of reflecting tape from the life preserver.
In a moment the yacht had reached her, slowing still further and turning. Esterhazy jogged aft and snagged the life preserver with a mooring hook, hauling Constance around to the stern. Falkoner came aft and together they pulled her onto the platform, then carried her through the transom and into the main saloon, where they laid her on the carpeted floor.
She was semi-conscious but still breathing. Esterhazy quickly felt her pulse: slow and thready.
“Hypothermia,” he said to Falkoner. “We’ve got to bring her core temperature up. Where’s the woman?”
“Gerta? She locked herself in the crew quarters.”
“Have her run a lukewarm bath.”
Falkoner disappeared while Esterhazy removed the life preserver, unbuttoned and slipped off her soggy dress and underclothing, then wrapped her in a dry afghan that was folded on a nearby chair. He put plastic cuffs on her wrists and a much looser set around her ankles, leaving just enough slack for her to walk.
A moment later, the woman arrived with Falkoner. Her face was pale but she was composed. “The bath is running.”
They carried Constance through the saloon to the forward stateroom master bath, where they lowered her into the lukewarm water. She was already reviving, murmuring something as she went in.
“I’m going forward to watch Pendergast,” Esterhazy said.
Falkoner looked at him for a moment – a searching, calculating look. Then he smiled crookedly. “When she’s revived, I’ll bring her – and we’ll use her to make Pendergast talk.”
Esterhazy felt himself shudder.
He found Pendergast where he had left him, Schultz watching over him. He pulled up a deck chair and sat down, cradling the gun and looking carefully at Pendergast. This was the first time they had been face-to-face since he’d left the agent, critically wounded and sinking, in the quicksand of the Foulmire. The man’s silvery eyes, barely visible in the dim light, were, as usual, unreadable.
Ten minutes passed as Esterhazy went through every scenario, every possible plan to get himself off the Vergeltung—to no avail. They were going to kill him – he’d seen it in the look Falkoner had given him. Thanks to Pendergast, he’d caused the Covenant too much trouble, too many men, to remain alive himself.
He heard raised voices and saw Constance being pushed along the port-side walkway by Gerta, the redheaded woman, the threatening murmurs of Falkoner following. In a moment they emerged on deck. Zimmermann had joined them. Constance was wearing a long white terry-cloth bathrobe, with a man’s jacket over it. Falkoner gave her one last shove and she fell to the deck in front of Pendergast.
“Feisty bitch,” said Falkoner, dabbing at a bloody nose. “No problem reviving her. Tie her to that post.”
Schultz and the redheaded woman pushed her toward a lifeline stanchion, then tied her to it. She did not struggle, instead remaining strangely silent. When they had secured her, Falkoner straightened up, dabbed his brow, and cast a cool, triumphant expression at Esterhazy. “I’ll handle this,” he said in a clipped tone. “This is, after all, my area of expertise.”
He ripped the tape from Pendergast’s mouth. “We wouldn’t want to miss a word the man says – would we?”
Esterhazy casually glanced up at the bridge, a row of faintly glowing windows on the upper deck above and aft of the forecastle. He could see the captain behind the wheel, Gruber the mate to one side. Both were absorbed in their work, paying no attention to the drama playing out on the foredeck below. The vessel was now heading northeast, paralleling Long Island’s South Shore. Esterhazy wondered where they were going – Falkoner had been more than a little vague on that point.
“All right,” said Falkoner, taking a swaggering turn in front of Pendergast. He holstered his weapon and slid the combat knife out of its scabbard. Standing in front of the agent, he fondled it in the dim light, tested the edges, knelt, then pierced Pendergast’s flesh with the tip and drew a thin line down the cheek. Blood welled up.
“Now you have a Heidelberg dueling scar, just like my grandfather’s. Lovely.”
The red-haired woman watched, a look of cruel anticipation gathering on her face.
“See how sharp it is?” Falkoner continued. “But that sharpness isn’t for you. It’s for her.”
He strolled over to Constance and stood over her, playing with the knife, speaking to her directly. “If he doesn’t answer my questions promptly and fully, I’m going to cut you. Rather painfully.”
“He won’t say a word,” Constance replied, her voice low and steady.
“He will when we start chumming the water with bits of your body.”
She stared at him. Esterhazy was surprised at just how little fear he saw in her eyes. This was one scary human being.
Falkoner merely chuckled and turned back to Pendergast. “Your little quest, which we’ve only recently become aware of, has been most instructive. For example, we had thought Helen was dead these long years.”
Esterhazy felt his blood run cold.
“Right, Judson?”
“It’s not true,” Esterhazy said weakly.
Falkoner waved his hand as if it was a trifling matter. “At any rate, here’s your first question: what do you know about our organization, and where did you learn it?”
But Pendergast did not answer. Instead, he turned to Esterhazy, a strangely sympathetic look in his eyes. “You’re next, you realize.”
Falkoner strode over to Constance and grabbed her hands, which were cuffed behind the stanchion. He took his knife and sliced slowly and deliberately into her thumb. She stifled a cry, turning her head sharply to one side.
“Next time, speak to me and answer my question.”
“Don’t speak!” Constance said, hoarsely, not looking back. “Don’t say anything. They’re going to kill us anyway.”
“Not true,” said Falkoner. “If he talks, we’ll drop you off alive on shore. He can’t save his own life, but he can save yours.”
He turned back to Pendergast. “Answer the question.”
The special agent began to talk. He told – briefly – of discovering that his wife’s gun had been loaded with blanks, and realizing that meant she had been murdered in Africa twelve years before. He spoke slowly, clearly, and utterly without inflection.
“And so you went to Africa,” said Falkoner, “and discovered our little conspiracy to get rid of her.”
“Your conspiracy?” Pendergast seemed to consider this.
“Why are you talking?” asked Constance suddenly. “You think he’s going to let me go? Of course not. Cease speaking, Aloysius – we’re both dead anyway.”
His face alight with arousal, Falkoner reached down, grasped her hand, and took the knife, slowly cutting into her thumb again, much more deeply this time. She grimaced and writhed in pain, but did not cry out.
From the corner of his eye, Esterhazy noted that Schultz and Zimmermann had holstered their weapons and were enjoying the show.
“Don’t,” Esterhazy said to Falkoner. “You keep doing that, he’ll stop talking.”
“Damn you, I know what I’m doing. I’ve been at this for years.”
“You don’t know him.”
But Falkoner had stopped. He held up the bloody knife, waved it in front of Pendergast’s face, wiped the blood off on the agent’s lips. “The next time, her thumb comes off.” He smiled crookedly. “Do you love her? I suppose you must. Young, beautiful, spirited: who wouldn’t?” He straightened up, took a slow turn around the deck. “I’m waiting, Pendergast. Go on.”
But Pendergast did not go on. Instead, he was looking at Esterhazy intently.
Falkoner paused in his circuit, cocked his head to one side. “All right. I always keep my promises. Schultz, hold her hand steady.”
Schultz grasped Constance’s hand as Falkoner brandished the knife. Esterhazy could see he was, indeed, going to cut off her thumb. And if he did there would be no going back – not for Pendergast, and not for him.
CHAPTER 76
JUST A MOMENT,” ESTERHAZY SAID.
Falkoner paused. “What?”
Esterhazy quickly stepped over to Falkoner and leaned in to his ear. “There’s something I neglected to tell you,” he murmured. “Something you must know. It’s very important.”
“Damn it, I’m in the middle of this.”
“Step over to the rail. They mustn’t hear. I’m telling you, it’s of the utmostimportance.”
“This is a hell of a time to be interrupting my work!” Falkoner muttered, the smile of sadistic pleasure giving way to a scowl of frustration.
Esterhazy led Falkoner over to the port rail and walked him slightly aft. He glanced up: the view from both the bridge and the foredeck was blocked.
“What’s the problem?” Falkoner demanded.
Esterhazy leaned over to whisper in his ear, placing a hand on his shoulder. As they drew together, heads bowed, Esterhazy brought his pistol up and fired a bullet into the German’s cranium. A cloud of blood, gore, and bits of bone jetted out the far side, the blowback spraying Esterhazy directly in the face.
Falkoner jerked forward, eyes wide and astonished, and he fell into Esterhazy’s arms. Esterhazy grasped him by the shoulders and, with a brusque movement, heaved the body up onto the rail and tipped it over.
At the report of the gun, Zimmermann came tearing around the corner. Esterhazy shot him between the eyes.
“Schultz!” he cried out. “Help us!”
A moment later Schultz appeared, gun in hand, and Esterhazy shot him as well.
Then Esterhazy backed away, sputtering and spitting, wiping his face clean with a handkerchief and returning to the small group, pistol drawn. Gerta stood there, staring at him, paralyzed.
“Walk over here,” he told her. “Slow and easy. Or you’re dead, too.”
She obeyed. As she reached the edge of the cabin he grabbed her and, with the same tape used to tie Pendergast, bound her ankles, wrists, and mouth. He left her on the walkway where she wasn’t visible from the bridge, then strode back to the aft deck, where Hammar was slowly regaining consciousness, groaning and muttering. Esterhazy bound him securely. He made a quick tour of the upper decks, found the wounded Eberstark, and bound him as well. Then he walked forward again to where Pendergast and Constance were restrained.
He looked at the pair. Both had witnessed what he’d done. Constance was silent, but he could see blood dripping from her injured finger. He knelt, examined it. The second, deeper cut went to the bone but not through it. He fumbled in his pocket, brought out a clean handkerchief, and bound the finger. Then he stood up and faced Pendergast. The silvery eyes glittered back. Esterhazy thought he could detect – barely – lingering surprise.
“You once asked me how I could kill my own sister,” Esterhazy said. “I told you the truth then. And I’ll tell you the truth again now. I didn’t kill her. Helen’s alive.”
CHAPTER 77
ESTERHAZY PAUSED. A NEW LOOK HAD COME into Pendergast’s eyes; a look he didn’t fully understand. And yet the man said nothing.
“You think your fight’s just with me,” Esterhazy went on rapidly. “But you’re wrong. It’s not just me. It’s not just this boat and this crew. The fact is you have no idea, no idea, of what you’re dealing with.”
No response from Pendergast.
“Listen. Falkoner was going to kill me, too. As soon as you were dead, he was going to do the same to me. I realized that just tonight, on this boat.”
“So you killed him to save yourself,” Constance said. “Is that supposed to solicit our trust?”
Esterhazy did his best to ignore this. “Damn it, Aloysius, listen to me: Helen is alive, and you need me to bring her to you. We don’t have the time to stand around talking about it now. Later, I’ll explain everything to you – not now. Are you going to cooperate with me or not?”
Constance laughed mirthlessly.
Esterhazy stared into Pendergast’s frozen, unreadable eyes for what seemed a very long time. Then he took a deep breath. “I’m going to take a chance,” he said. “A chance that somewhere in that strange head of yours, you might just believe me – about this, if nothing else.” Taking out a knife, he leaned over to cut Pendergast free, then hesitated.
“You know, Aloysius,” he said quietly, “what I’ve become was what I was born to be. It’s what I was born into—and it’s something beyond my control. If you only knew the horror that Helen and I have been subjected to, you’d understand.”
He sliced through the lines holding Pendergast to the stanchion, cut through the tape, and freed him.
Pendergast slowly stood up, massaging his arms, face still unreadable. Esterhazy hesitated a moment. Then he slipped Pendergast’s.45 from his own waistband and handed it to the FBI agent, butt first. Pendergast took it, tucked it away, and without a word went over to Constance and cut her free.
“Let’s go,” said Esterhazy.
For a moment, nobody moved.
“Constance,” said Pendergast, “wait for us at the tender in the stern.”
“Just a minute,” Constance said. “Surely you aren’t going to believe—”
“Please go to the tender. We’ll join you in a moment.”
With a single, lingering stare at Esterhazy, she turned and walked aft, disappearing into the dark.
“There are two men on the bridge,” Esterhazy said to Pendergast. “We have to neutralize them and get off this boat.”
When Pendergast did not reply, Esterhazy took the lead, pushing open a cabin door and stepping over a motionless body. They passed through the main saloon and then ascended a stairway. Arriving at the sky deck, he opened the sliding glass doors and crossed the sky lounge. Pendergast took up a position next to the bridge door, drawing his weapon. Esterhazy knocked.
A moment later the captain’s voice came over the intercom. “Who is it? What’s happening? What was that shooting?”
Esterhazy put on his calmest voice. “It’s Judson. It’s all over. Falkoner and I have got them immobilized in the saloon.”
“The rest of the crew?”
“Gone. Most of them killed or incapacitated – or overboard. But everything’s under control now.”
“Jesus!”
“Falkoner wants Gruber below for a few minutes.”
“We’ve been trying to raise Falkoner on the radio.”
“He ditched his radio. That man Pendergast got his hands on a headset and was listening in on our chatter. Look, we don’t have a lot of time, Captain, Falkoner wants the mate below. Now.”
“How long? I need him on the bridge.”
“Five minutes, tops.”
He heard the bridge door being unbolted, then unlocked. It opened. Immediately, Pendergast kicked it back, knocking the mate senseless with the butt of his handgun while Esterhazy rushed the captain, jamming his weapon into his ear. “Down!” he shouted. “On the floor!”
“What the—?”
Esterhazy fired the pistol to one side, then put the muzzle back against his head. “You heard me! Face down, arms spread!”
The captain dropped down to his knees, then lay prone, stretching out his arms. Esterhazy turned in time to see Pendergast tying up the mate.
He walked over to the helm, keeping his pistol trained on the captain, and throttled the twin diesels back into neutral. The boat slowed on its way to coming to rest in the water.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the captain cried. “Where’s Falkoner?”
“Tie this one up, too,” Esterhazy said.
Pendergast stepped over and immobilized the captain.
“You’re a dead man,” the captain told Esterhazy. “They’ll kill you for sure – you of all people should know that.”
Esterhazy watched as Pendergast went to the helm, scanned it, lifted a cage enclosing a red lever, and pulled the lever. An alarm began to sound. “What’s that?” he asked, alarmed.
“I’ve activated the EPIRB, the emergency position-indicating radio beacon,” Pendergast replied. “I want you to go below, launch the tender, and wait for me.”
“Why?” Esterhazy was disconcerted at how suddenly Pendergast had taken control.
“We’re abandoning ship. Do as I say.”
The flat, cold tone of his voice unnerved Esterhazy. The agent disappeared off the bridge, heading to the lower decks. Esterhazy went down the stairs to the main saloon and to the stern. He found Constance there, waiting.
“We’re abandoning ship,” said Esterhazy. He pulled the canvas from the second tender. It was a 5.2-meter Valiant with a seventy-five-horsepower Honda four-stroke outboard. He opened the stern transom and threw the windlass into gear. The boat slid off its cradle into the water. He cleated it at the stern, climbed inside, started the engine.
“Get in,” he said.
“Not until Aloysius returns,” Constance replied.
Her violet eyes remained gazing at him, and after a moment she spoke again in that curious, archaic way. “You will recall, Dr. Esterhazy, what I told you earlier? Let me reiterate: at some point in the future, in the fullness of time, I will kill you.”
Esterhazy snorted in derision. “Don’t waste your breath on empty threats.”
“Empty?” She smiled pleasantly. “It is a fact of nature as ineluctable as the very turning of the earth.”
CHAPTER 78
ESTERHAZY TURNED HIS THOUGHTS TO PENDERGAST and what he was up to. He had his answer when he heard a muffled explosion below. A moment later Pendergast appeared. He helped Constance into the tender, then leapt in himself as another explosion shook the yacht. A smell of smoke suddenly filled the air.
“What did you do?” Esterhazy asked.
“Engine fire,” said Pendergast. “The EPIRB will give those still alive on board a sporting chance. Take the helm and get us out of here.”
Esterhazy backed the boat away from the yacht. A third explosion erupted, sending a ball of fire into the sky, streamers and burning bits of wood and fiberglass raining down around them. Esterhazy turned the boat and throttled up as much as he dared in the ocean swell. The boat pitched and yawed, the engine rumbling.
“Head northwest,” said Pendergast.
“Where are we going?” Esterhazy said, still nonplussed at Pendergast’s tone of command.
“The southern tip of Fire Island. It will be deserted this time of year – the ideal place to land unnoticed.”
“And then?”
The boat ploughed through the medium sea, up and down, riding the swells. Pendergast didn’t say anything, did not answer the question. The yacht disappeared in the darkness behind them, even the flame and black smoke that poured from it growing indistinct. It was dark all around, the faint lights of New York City a distant glow as a low-lying mist covered the waters.
“Throttle down to neutral,” Pendergast said.
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
Esterhazy did as ordered. And then, suddenly, just when a swell swayed him off balance, Pendergast seized him, slammed him to the floor of the tender, and pinned him. Esterhazy had a moment of déjà vu, when the agent had done the same to him at the Scottish churchyard. He felt a gun barrel press against his temple.
“What are you doing?” he cried. “I just saved your life!”
“Alas, I am not a sentimental man,” said Pendergast, his voice low and menacing. “I need answers, and I need them now. First question: why did you do it? Why did you sacrifice her?”
“But I didn’tsacrifice Helen! She’s alive. I could never kill her – I love her!”
“I’m not talking about Helen. I’m talking about her twin. The one you called Emma Grolier.”
Esterhazy felt sudden, massive surprise temporarily overpower his fear. “How… how did you know?”
“The logic is inescapable. I began to suspect it as soon as I learned the woman in the Bay Manor Nursing Home was young rather than old. It was the only explanation. Identical twins share identical DNA – that’s how you managed a deception that could persist even past death. Helen had beautiful teeth, and her twin obviously did as well. Giving her twin the one filling – matching it to Helen’s – what a work of dental art.”
“Yes,” said Esterhazy after a moment. “It was.”
“How could you do it?”
“It was either her or Helen. Emma was… very damaged, profoundly retarded. Death was almost a release. Aloysius, please believe me when I tell you I’m not the evil man you think I am. For God’s sake, if you knew what Helen and I survived, you would see all this in a completely different light.”
The gun pressed harder. “And what is it that you survived? Whydid you arrange this mad deception?”
“Somebody had to die – don’t you see? The Covenant wanted Helen dead. They thought I killed her in that lion attack. Now they know differently. And Helen is in extreme danger as a result. We’ve gotto go to ground – all of us.”
“What is the Covenant?”
Esterhazy felt his heart pounding. “How can I make you understand? Longitude Pharmaceuticals? Charlie Slade? That’s just the beginning. What you saw at Spanish Island was a mere sideshow, a footnote.”
Pendergast remained silent.
“The Covenant’s rolling up their New York operation, erasing their U.S. footprint. The big boys are coming into town to supervise. They may be here already.”
Still Pendergast did not reply.
“For the love of God, we have to get moving! It’s the only way Helen will survive. Everything I’ve done has been to keep Helen alive, because she…” He paused. “I even sacrificed my other sister, damaged as she was. You have to understand. This is not just about you, or about Helen, anymore. It’s bigger than that. I’ll explain all, but right now we need to save Helen.” His voice broke into a sob, quickly suppressed. He seized Pendergast’s jacket. “ Can’t you see this is the only way?”
Pendergast rose, put the gun away.
But Constance, who had been silent, now spoke. “Aloysius, don’t trust this man.”
“The emotion is genuine. He’s not lying.” Pendergast took the wheel, throttled up, and directed the boat northeastward, toward Fire Island. He glanced toward Esterhazy. “When we land, you will take me directly to Helen.”
Esterhazy hesitated. “It can’t work like that.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve taught her over the years to – take extreme precautions. The same precautions that saved her life in Africa. A phone call won’t do, and surprising her with you would be too dangerous. I have to go to her myself – and bringher to you.”
“Do you have a plan?”
“Not yet. We must find a way to expose and destroy the Covenant. It’s either them or us. Helen and I know a great deal about them, and you’re a master at strategy. Together we can do this.”
Pendergast paused. “How long do you need to get her?”
“Sixteen, maybe eighteen hours. We should meet in a public place where the Covenant won’t dare act, and from there go directly underground.”
Another low murmur from Constance. “He’s lying, Aloysius. Lying to save his own beggarly self.”
Pendergast laid a hand on hers. “While you are right that his instincts for self-preservation are excessive, I believe he is telling the truth.”
She fell silent. Pendergast went on, “My apartments at the Dakota contain a secure area, with a secret back door to get out when necessary. Across Central Park from the Dakota is a public area called Conservatory Water. It’s a small pond where they sail model boats. Are you familiar with it?”
Esterhazy nodded.
“It isn’t that far from the zoo,” Constance observed acidly.
“I’ll be waiting in front of the Kerbs Boathouse,” Pendergast said, “at six o’clock tomorrow evening. Can you get Helen there by then?”
Esterhazy glanced at his watch: just past eleven. “Yes.”
“The transfer to me will take five minutes. The Dakota is just across the park.”
Ahead, Esterhazy could see the faint blinking of the Moriches Inlet light and the line of the Cupsogue Dunes, white as snow under a brilliant moon. Pendergast turned the tender toward it.
“Judson?” Pendergast said quietly.
Esterhazy turned to him. “Yes?”
“I believe you’re telling the truth. But because the matter is so close to me, I might have misjudged you. Constance seems to think I have. You will bring Helen to me as planned – or, to paraphrase Thomas Hobbes, your remaining existence on this planet will prove nasty, brutish, and short.”