“You just need him eliminated? I was expecting something more complicated than this after Mr. Laurent’s phone call.”
“Yes, well, this assassin is no slouch.”
“The trouble with private killers is all in the identification. If you know who he is, I’ll have him found and dead within twenty-four hours.”
“That would be ideal.”
“I mean, unless we’re talking about the Gray Man. He’s a couple of cuts above the rest.”
Lloyd said nothing.
After the American’s long hesitation, Riegel said, “Ach, so! Wearetalking about the Gray Man, aren’t we?”
“Is that going to be a problem?”
It was Riegel’s turn to pause. Finally he said, “Certainly a complication... but not a problem. He is extremely good at keeping a low profile, hence his moniker. He’ll be hard to find, but the good news is he will have no reason to expect we are coming after him.”
Lloyd remained silent yet again.
“Or will he?”
“I arranged an attempt on his life last night. It failed. He survived.”
“How many men did he kill?”
“Five.”
“Idiot.”
“Mr. Riegel, the Gray Man is clearly no idiot. His history shows us—”
“Heis not the idiot!Youare the idiot! A damn lawyer who tries to orchestrate a hit on the greatest alpha killer in the world. Some poorly planned, cobbled-together, hurriedly executed disaster of an operation, no doubt! You should have come to me immediately. Now he will be on guard, expecting whoever it was who organized the attempt on his life will just try again.”
“I am no idiot, Riegel. I have his handler in my custody. I have persuaded him to help us locate Gentry.”
“Who’s Gentry?”
“Courtland Gentry is the Gray Man.”
Riegel sat up as erect and broad and square as the desk in front of him. “How is it you know his identity?”
“I am not at liberty to say.”
“Who’s his handler?” Riegel did not like being the one on the receiving end of such information inside LaurentGroup. He had his own intelligence network for that. That some shit American barrister was passing this intel around like it was common knowledge made Riegel ball his fists in anger.
“His handler’s name is Don Fitzroy. He’s a Brit, has a straight operation here in London, even does some work for us occasion—”
Riegel’s balled fists closed together tighter. “Tell me,Lloyd from Legal, that you have notkidnappedSir Donald Fitzroy!”
“I have. And I have his son and his son’s family held at a LaurentGroup property in Normandy.”
Riegel dropped his huge shoulders and put his head in his hands. After several seconds he looked to his speakerphone. “I have been notified, in no uncertain terms, thatyouare in charge of this operation. I am to provide you men, matériel, intelligence, and any advice I have.”
“That’s correct.”
“Then why don’t I start with some advice?”
“Excellent.”
