Page 44 of Circle of Death
“From the inside,” adds Tapper. “Switzerland. Then Tibet. Saudi Arabia. Senegal. Working our way up. Gaining their trust. Getting the assignment to kill you. The Command sent us. They think we’re mercenaries, out for a buck.”
I reach over and grab him by the hair. “How do I know you’renot?” I jerk his head around toward the mantle, where the single brandy snifter is still sitting. “See that? It’s a memorial. One of us got blown to bits yesterday. And I’m ready to kill both of you right now. I won’t like it. But I’ll do it.”
“Moe Shrevnitz,” says Tapper. “We know. Look. We’ve lost people, too. Buddies, relatives. We understand what the Command is doing. We’ve seen it. Smelled it. That’s why we’re in this fight. We’rewithyou. Not against you.”
I catch Hawkeye looking over my shoulder. I turn. Margo is standing in the entryway. She walks across the room slowly in her bare feet, stopping right in front of the prisoners.
“Holy shit, it’s her,” mutters Tapper.
“Hello, Margo,” says Hawkeye.
Margo reaches out and places two fingers under Hawkeye’s chin. She tilts his face up to the light. Then she does the same with Tapper. “Amazing,” she says. “You’re carbon copies of your ancestors.”
I pull her back by the arm. “One big difference. I knew I could trust the originals.”
Margo stares at the prisoners for a few seconds. I can see her taking command of their minds. “My husband sometimes jumps to conclusions,” she says. “If you’re telling the truth, prove it.”
Tapper nods. “My vest. Inside pocket.”
Margo reaches in with two fingers and pulls out a video stick.
I nod to Jericho and Burbank. The three of us herd Hawkeye and Tapper upstairs to the comms center after untying them. I slide the stick into the console. Burbank takes over the controls. The first few scenes are of men in ratty uniforms stacking piles of ammunition.
Another scene shows a row of dust-covered military vehicles under camo netting. The next shot is sunny bright, like a vacation photo.
“Freeze it,” says Hawkeye.
This is no war scene. It looks like paradise. We’re looking at a gorgeous villa with marble columns and a massive fountain in front. Seventeenth-century vintage or earlier. Stately. Magnificent. It looks twice as big as my house. Maybe three times.
“What’s this?” I ask.
“Headquarters,” says Hawkeye. “For the Command.”
Tapper nods at the screen. “That’s where the Destroyer of Worlds is hiding out. It’s as close as we could get.”
Burbank extracts the coordinates from the image and converts them to a map.
In a second, we’re looking at a satellite view of France.
“It’s in the countryside near Chartres,” says Hawkeye. “Security is unbreachable.”
I glance at Margo. I can tell she already knows what I’m thinking. So do Hawkeye and Tapper.
“Look,” says Hawkeye. “We can get you a plane.”
“And I can fly it,” says Tapper.
Based on what I know about their skills, it could all be true. Or it could be a trap.
It’s possible the Command has managed to warp their minds—to make fiction seem like fact.
I look over. Margo nods. Decision made. We’re going.
I grab Tapper by the throat. “If I find out you’re double-crossing us…”
Tapper twists away. “You’re the goddamn Shadow,” he says. “If we’re not on the level, you’ve got plenty of ways to kill us.”
I relax my hand and let it drop to my side.
