I started to speak, but she went on.
“And you know why I don’t buy your arguments now, Alex? Because sometimes in your position, I’d lie. I don’t know how many times I’ve told my family there was nothing to worry about, or how safe I was going to be, when really I had no idea. You have no idea what you’ll find in Africa.”
“You’re right,” I said, and not just to get her to stop pacing. “I won’t try to sell you some bill of goods here, Bree. But I will tell you that I’m not going to do anything stupid over there.”
It was about eight hours after my confrontation with Eric Dana and my subsequent conversation with Tunney. Tunney had gone as far as setting me up with a CIA officer stationed in Nigeria—just before he told me never to call him again.
I had the frequent-flier miles, so that wasn’t a problem. I had vacation time banked with the MPD. Now I just had to convince two of the strongest women I’d ever known that it made sense for me to do this—Bree tonight, Nana Mama tomorrow.
The air, the tension, between Bree and me was as thick as I’d ever felt it.
“What exactly are you hoping to accomplish over there?” she finally asked me.
“Ultimately? Use Tunney’s guy to set up some local cooperation. Then steer the killer into custody if I can. I can get this guy, Bree. He’s arrogant, thinks he can’t be caught. That’s his weakness.”
“Kyle Craig was a lifer, several times over. It’s no guarantee, Alex. That’s if you catch him.”
I allowed myself a sheepish grin. “And yet we keep doing our jobs anyway, don’t we? We keep trying to catch these killers.”
I finally reached out and took her hand. Then I pulled her over to sit next to me on the bed.
“I have to go, Bree. He’s already killed more people in Washington than anyone I’ve seen. Eventually he’ll come back and start up again.”
“And he killed your friend.”
“Yes, he killed my friend. He killed Ellie Cox and her entire family.”
Finally Bree shrugged. “So, go. Go to Africa, Alex.” And we hugged each other for a long time, and I was reminded again of why I loved her. And maybe why I was running away from her now.
Chapter 26
HE MET UP with the white devil in a wood-paneled cigar bar just off Pennsylvania Avenue, half a dozen blocks from the White House. They ordered drinks and appetizers, and the white man selected a Partagás cigar.
“Cigars aren’t a vice of yours?” the white man asked.
“I have no vices,” said the Tiger. “I am pure of heart.”
The white man laughed at that.
“The money has been transferred, three hundred and fifty thousand. You’re going back now?”
“Yes, later tonight, in fact. I’m looking forward to being home in Nigeria.”
The man nodded. “Even in such troubled times?”
“Especially now. There’s lots of work for me. I like being lazy. Oil rich. Getting there anyway. By my standards.”
The white man clipped
his expensive cigar and the Tiger sipped his cognac. He wasn’t certain, but he thought he knew who his employer was. It wouldn’t be the first time. This group’s contractors in Africa weren’t always reliable—but he was. Always.
“There’s something else.”
“There always is,” said the Tiger, “with you people.”
“You’re being followed by an American policeman.”
“He won’t go to Africa after me.”