Will stood on the hillside looking down at Zagreb. It was nearly midday, and a bright blue sky shone over the snow-clad city.
Roger walked up to him and stood by his side. “I got in this morning.”
Will nodded but did not look at the man. “You’ve received an update from Laith?”
“I have. He told me what you did to the remaining members of the hit squad.”
Will rubbed a hand over facial stubble. “Has Laith disposed of the vehicle and weapon?”
“Don’t worry about that. None of us can be linked to what happened. But we’ve got to tread very carefully now. The Croatian police will be on high alert, and in all probability they’ll soon link what happened here with what happened in Austria.”
Will exhaled slowly. “Megiddo should have Lana’s letter now. It should give him a new perspective on her. It should stop him from making extreme attempts against me.” He studied Roger. The man looked exhausted. “But that does not mean we can slow down. I need one of your men to go to Sarajevo and watch the Human Benevolence Foundation building and the movements of its occupants.”
“Sure. I’ll send Julian Garces. The man can be a ghost when it comes to surveillance.”
“Good. Julian’s got twenty-four hours to understand everything about the exterior of that building, because tomorrow night he’s going to watch my back while I burgle the HBF place.”
At 1:00 A.M. Will was on rue Sainte-Croix-de-la-Bretonnerie in Paris. He turned into the side street containing Lana’s house and pulled out an envelope while standing at her front door. He knew that he could have mailed the envelope or sent it by courier, but he’d wanted to deliver it in person. He took out a pen and addressed the envelope to Lana’s mother, then pushed the package containing thirty thousand CIA dollars and nothing else through the mail slot.
He stepped back and looked at the house door. All around him was silent.
He thought about Lana’s mother. He wondered if she was sleeping. Or maybe she was lying awake, hoping for her daughter’s return.
He closed his eyes and allowed his worst recollection to come searing into his mind.
The teenage Will Cochrane threw his school bag onto the kitchen table, smiled nervously, and called to his mother. No response. He heard nothing.
He kept going as he wondered if his mother would hug him when she read his school report and saw that his exam grades would take him to England and Cambridge University. He wondered if she would cook him his favorite meal of roast chicken. He wondered if she would even allow him a small glass of wine as she sometimes did these days.
He entered the living room.
The four men looked at Will but did not move much when they saw him. Instead they remained standing and glanced at his bound and gagged mother before looking back at him. One of them smiled and spoke.
“Where is the money?”
Will felt sick, giddy, and overwhelmingly confused. He looked at his mother. Tape had been wrapped around her head and body. She was sitting on a chair, her eyes rolling in their sockets. He had never seen a human being look so ill and so odd.
“Where is the money, boy?”
He looked at his sister. She was curled into a ball on the floor, sobbing. One of the men had a large-booted foot planted on her head.
Will looked at the man who spoke and answered him with a voice that did not seem his own.
“What money?”
The men laughed loudly and then went silent. Their spokesman pointed a finger at Will.
“Big houses like this mean big money.”
Will shook his head and felt as if he’d done something wrong. He tried to make his voice strong and measured, but instead he just blurted the truth.
“We have no money. This house belongs to the government. My daddy used to work for them before he died. All the rich people around here know that we have nothing.”
Two of the men laughed again, but two of them did not. The spokesman was one of those who remained impassive and suddenly looked very scary. He took a step toward Will.
“Find us money, or we’ll kill your mother and your sister.”
Will looked at his mother. Her eyes were now closed, and her head had slumped down. He called to her.
“Mother?”
The scary man’s eyes widened.
“She can’t breathe. The clock is ticking, boy.”
Will felt a burning sensation in his brain and eyes and knew that it was the sensation that preceded tears. He looked at all the men. Even though Will was easily as tall as they were, they looked so big and strong and like nothing else he had seen.
He slowed his breathing. He saw his mother starting to twitch. He wanted to run to her. Words came from him without any evident thought behind them.
“I’ve told you the truth. But we have some cash in a drawer. If I get it for you, will you help my mother?”
The men glanced at one another. Three of them shrugged and nodded at their spokesman. That man then stepped closer to Will. His breath smelled bad.
“Get it. But if you run, we’ll kill her. Then we’ll do worse to your sister.”
Will’s mother was now no longer twitching or even moving at all. Will imagined that she was pretending to sleep. But he knew she was not. He turned and walked out of the living room. He walked into the kitchen and looked around. He walked to a drawer. He opened it and instantly thought about lemonade, as this was the drawer that contained the bottle opener to the glass-bottled brand of lemonade his mother bought for him. He brushed his fingers over the bottle opener and then moved them toward the carving knife that his mother used when slicing his favorite roast chicken.
He had always been scared of this knife, but now that he held it for the first time it felt so light and innocent in his hand. He convinced himself that it would not be scary enough for the big men in the other room. He decided it wasn’t the knife that mattered but the hand carrying it.
He walked back into the room. He felt energized but no longer himself. He felt as if everywhere around him was on fire but only he could feel no heat or pain. He felt a blackness descend upon his mind.
He looked at the men and smiled.
And then he destroyed them.
Will looked up at the star-filled sky and exhaled. He shook his head and closed his eyes. He gripped his fist tight and felt his heart pounding strong and fast. He breathed rapidly before holding his breath and then exhaling again. He felt his heartbeat slow. He felt his body and mind calm. He opened his eyes, glanced at the stars again, and looked down at Lana’s mother’s door. He nodded toward it and whispered, “I’ll bring your daughter home soon. I swear.”
He turned back toward Central Europe and the perils it held.