Around the time Grafton, Richie, and Charles had homed in on Sonya’s tracking device, a private jet with five of the more capable men in Grafton’s employ had landed at Chisinau International Airport. There were a couple of former RAF boys whom Grafton had drafted into his network when he discovered evidence they were part of a child pornography ring, one Royal Marine who’d killed a buddy in an incident of not-so-friendly fire, and two Army Reservists who’d found themselves on the wrong side of the law when they were accused—but never convicted because Grafton held the evidence against them—of sexually assaulting a female soldier.
Grafton loved it when Mother England spent the time, money, and resources training people he could then catch in his sticky web.
He watched as the quintet of disgraced military men fanned out around the old circus building. Along with Charles, they encircled Grafton’s prey, cutting off all avenues of escape. The beep, beep, beep of the receiver that Grafton had handed over to Harold Ellis, the team leader, grew quicker as the man climbed the steps toward the front door.
The night might be growing long in the tooth, but they still had time before morning’s first light to finish off that traitorous bitch and that murderous asshole who’d dared to defy him. And bonus! Angel and Sonya had picked a spot so far off the beaten path that Grafton needn’t worry about stealth or secrecy.
“That’s spooky,” Richie whispered.
Grafton blinked in confusion. “What is?”
“What you said about death.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “Well, I can’t take credit for it. It was Oppenheimer who said it. Although, if memory serves, he was quoting some sacred Hindu text.”
“Who’s Oppenheimer?”
“J. Robert Oppenheimer?” At Richie’s blank stare, he added. “The father of the atomic bomb?”
Speaking of atomic bombs…he looked forward to the devastation in Chicago that would show the world and, more importantly, his Al-Qaeda business partners that there was nothing on the planet Spider couldn’t procure and—
“I think they’re going inside now,” Richie cut into his thoughts.
Grafton rubbed his hands together. He couldn’t stop the smile on his lips or the anticipatory beat of his heart when he repeated, “I am become death, the destroyer of worlds.”
While Oppenheimer had eventually come to regret his role in the mass murder of so many, Grafton had never suffered any such misgivings. Death was a part of life. If he happened to help someone to an early grave, what did it matter in the grand scheme of things?
In fact, he kind of relished it. Maybe he had a God complex.
He chuckled at the thought, causing Richie to shoot him a wary glance.
Chapter 29
Sonya’s heart was in her throat when Angel ran from the front door back to where he’d stationed her by the entrance to the circus ring. It was lighter here in the foyer. The moonlight was bright enough to cut through the dingy windows and Coca-Cola signs and show the dark shadows moving around outside the building.
“You have a tracking device on you,” he accused.
“What?” She blinked at him. “No, I don’t. I—”
“Shhh.” He lifted a finger, cocking his head. “Listen.”
She heard a muffled beep-beep-beep. The sound seemed to be speeding up.
“Did Grafton give you something? Did he ever have access to your purse or—”
“No!” she hissed. “Nothing like that. I never—” She stopped and swallowed. Surely not. Surely not!
“What?” Angel demanded. “Sonya, hurry! What is it?”
“The bookmark Lou gave me.”
“The pink ribbon?”
She nodded. Since her heart was still in her throat, it made speaking difficult. Not to mention breathing.
“Give it to me,” he ordered.
