The feeling had come back to him—cold, creeping dread in the swirling mists before dawn in Vietnam.
They’d rolled out at four-thirty in pitch blackness and the first words out of Lockington’s mouth had been, “No lights!”
They’d showered in the dark, dressed in the dark, sat on the edge of their badly rumpled bed in the dark, smoking, conversing subduedly, waiting—waiting. Natasha had said, “You’re certain of this?”
Lockington had said, “As certain as I’ve been of anything.” He’d considered the statement. “Which isn’t saying much.”
At five-thirty he said, “Okay, let’s have some light—I’m out of bed now, getting ready to grab the manuscript and start the run to Chicago.”
Natasha reached to switch on the nightstand lamp, squinting against its sudden glare. Lockington studied her—she was unruffled. With a few more like her, he could have ruled the world, he thought.
It was five-forty. Dawn was graying the Ohio sky, leaking into the room through the tattered paper window blinds.
The silence was dense. Lockington stared at his twenty-dollar Japanese wristwatch. By that unpredictable timepiece it was five fifty-two when they heard it—a faraway rattle of gunfire sounding like a string of tiny firecrackers. Lockington slammed the mattress with his fist. “Sonofabitch, what are they doing? It sounds like the fucking Battle of the Marne!”
Natasha made no response—she was on her feet, heading for the door. Lockington grabbed her arm, spinning her heavily onto the bed. He said, “Not yet, for Christ’s sake!” Natasha kissed him. Upwards of fifty shots, he figured. Too many. He rasped, “Something’s wrong out there!”
Another thirty seconds and they went out, dog-trotting across the graveled expanse of the New Delhi Motel parking area. The manager was in his nightshirt, standing wide-eyed in his office doorway. He said, “Mr. Lockington, Your Excellency, what is it, sir?”
Lockington snapped, “Take cover—a Sikh regiment has penetrated our southwestern perimeter!”
The manager wailed, “Aaa—iii—eeeee!” He scooted into the office, slamming its door.
They plunged into the forest, Lockington leading the way, making for the little clearing they’d found. They reached it, scrambling through dewy thickets. Steve Dellick and Kevin Mahoney stood over the bullet-mangled body of a big man clad in blood-splotched black. He lay face down on the damp leafy floor of the clearing. There was a long brown leather case at his side. Lockington snarled, “This is murder—you were instructed to take him alive!”
Steve Dellick said, “Jesus Christ, Lockington, we didn’t fire a shot! He came from the south through the woods—we were waiting for him to open his case before we accosted him! He’d just unsnapped it when the fusillade decked him—AK-47’s, sure as hell!”
Lockington said, “From where?”
“Two locations!” Dellick pointed into the trees behind them. “We were there, completely out of sight! The shots came from there and there!” He was indicating positions considerably to the left and right of the area they’d occupied. “The first couple of rounds took him out, but they kept blazing away—he’s gotta have five pounds of lead in him!”
Lockington said, “Did you see them?”
Dellick shook his head. “Not so much as a shadow—top-drawer talent!” He was peering at Natasha Gorky. “Lockington, who the hell is this woman?”
Lockington snapped, “Lieutenant Yulebell, Salvation Army—she’s on our side.” He turned to the dead man’s leather case, raising its lid with the toe of his shoe, kneeling to study its contents. After a while he said, “Swiss—Mannerhorst Three-oh-three—telescopic sight—tripod—all the gingerbread.”
Kevin Mahoney said, “He had an excellent field of fire—he’d have nailed you the moment you opened your motel room door!”
Natasha Gorky had dropped to her haunches beside Lockington. She said, “He was good—very good—but you were better. Devereaux ran second.”
Lockington’s stare would have withered fifty acres of ragweed. “No, Devereaux ran third—I ran second—a scheming little Russian minx won it going away!”
She spread her hands helplessly. In a small voice she said, “That was her job.”