FOURTEEN
COPENHAGEN
12:15 PM
DOMINICK SABRE KNEW THAT THE NEXT HOUR WOULD BE critical. He'd already watched on the Copenhagen television stations as the shooting at Kronborg Slot was reported. Which meant Malone and his ex-wife were now on the move. He'd finally heard from the man he'd dispatched to the castle and was glad he'd followed orders.
He checked his watch, then stepped from the front parlor to the back bedroom where Gary Malone was being held. They'd managed to take the boy at school, using official credentials and tough talk, all supposedly in the name of the U.S. government. Within two hours they'd left Atlanta on a charter flight. Pam Malone was approached while they were en route and told precisely what to do. All reports painted her as a difficult woman, but a photo and thoughts of harm coming to her son had ensured that she'd do exactly what they wanted.
He opened the bedroom door and crafted a smile on his face. "Wanted to let you know that we heard from your dad."
The boy was perched by the window reading a book. Yesterday he'd asked for several volumes, which Sabre had obtained. The young face brightened at the news about his father. "He okay?"
"Doing fine. And he was grateful we had you with us. Your mom is with him, too."
"Mom is here?"
"Another team brought her over."
"That's a first. She's never been here." The boy paused. "Her and my dad don't get along."
Knowing about Malone's marital history, he sensed something. "Why's that?"
"Divorce. They haven't lived together in a long time."
"That hard on you?"
Gary seemed to consider the inquiry. He was tall for his age, lanky, with a head of auburn hair. Cotton Malone was a study in contrast. Fair-skinned, thick-limbed, light-haired. Try as he might, Sabre could find nothing of the father in the boy's face or countenance.
"It'd be better if they were together. But I understand why they're not."
"Good you understand. You have a level head."
Gary smiled. "That's what my dad always says. You know him?"
"Oh, yes. We've worked together for years."
"What's happening here? Why am I in danger?"
"I can't talk about it. But some really bad guys have targeted your dad and they were going to come after you and your mom, so we stepped in to protect you." He could see that the explanation didn't seem to totally satisfy.
"But my dad doesn't work for the government anymore."
"Unfortunately his enemies don't care about that. They just want to cause him pain."
"This is all really weird."
He forced a smile. "Part of the business, I'm afraid."
"You have any kids?"
He wondered about the boy's interest. "No. Never been married."
"You seem like a nice man."
"Thanks. Just doing my job." He motioned and said, "You work out?"
"I play baseball. Season's been over awhile, though. But I wouldn't mind throwing a few."
"Hard to do in Denmark. Baseball is not the national pastime here."
"I've visited the past two summers. I really like it."
"That the time you spend with your dad?"
Gary nodded. "About the only chance we get together. But that's okay. I'm glad he lives here. It makes him happy."
He thought he again sensed something. "Does it make you happy?"
"Sometimes. Other times I wish he was closer."
"You ever thought about living with him?"
The boy's face scrunched with concern. "That would kill my mom. She wouldn't want me to do that."
"Sometimes you have to do what you have to do."
"I've thought about it."
He grinned. "Don't think too hard. And try not to be bored."
"I miss my mom and dad. I hope they're all right."
He'd heard enough. The boy was pacified. He wouldn't be a problem, at least not for the next hour, which was all Sabre would need.
After that, it wouldn't matter what Gary Malone did.
So he stepped toward the door and said, "Not to worry. I'm sure this is all going to be over soon."
MALONE STOOD ON THE STREETS OF HELSINGØR AND WATCHED the cafe. A steady stream of patrons had flowed in and out. His target was sitting at a window table, sipping from a mug. Pam, he assumed, was with the car, parked at the train station, waiting. She'd better be. When this guy made his move, they'd only have one chance. If his adversaries were somewhere nearby, and he firmly believed that to be the case, this might be his only route to them.
Pam's appearance in Denmark had rattled him. But then she'd always had that effect. Once, love and respect bound them, or at least he'd thought that the case; now only Gary drew them together.
His mind replayed what she'd said to him in August. About Gary.
"After years of lying to me, you want to be fair?"
"You were no saint yourself years ago, Cotton."
"And you made my life a living hell because of it."
She shrugged. "I had an indiscretion of my own. I didn't think you'd mind, considering."
"I told you everything."
"No, Cotton. I caught you."
"But you let me think Gary was mine."
"He is. In every way except blood."
"That the way you rationalize it?"
"I don't have to. I just thought you should know the truth. I should have told you last year when we divorced."
"How do you know he's not my son?"
"Cotton, run tests. I don't care. Just know you're not Gary's father. Do with the information what you please."
"Does he know?"
"Of course not. That's between him and you. He'll never hear it from me."
He could still feel the anger that had flooded him as Pam remained calm. They were so different, which might also explain why they were no longer together. He'd lost his father young but had been raised by a mother who adored him. Pam's childhood had been nothing but turmoil. Her mother had been a flighty woman with conflicting emotions who'd operated a day care center. She'd squandered the family savings not once but twice. Astrologers were her weakness. She never could resist them, eagerly listening as they told her exactly what she wanted to hear. Pam's father was equally troubling, a distant drifting soul who cared far more about radio-controlled airplanes than his wife and three children. He'd labored for forty years at an ice cream cone factory, a salaried employee who never rose above midlevel manager. Loyalty mixed with a false sense of contentment-that had been his father-in-law up to the day that a three-pack-a-day cigarette habit finally stopped his heart.
Until they met, Pam had known little love or security. Miserly with emotion but exacting in devotion, she'd always given far less than she demanded. And pointing out that reality brought only anger. His own mistake with other women, early in their marriage, merely proved her point-that nothing and no one could ever be counted on.
Not mothers, fathers, siblings, or husbands.
All of them failed.
And so had she.
Having a baby out of wedlock and never telling her husband he was not the father. She seemed to still be paying the price of that failure.
He ought to cut her some slack. But it took two to make a bargain, and she wasn't willing-at least not yet-to deal.
The shooter disappeared from the window.
Malone's attention snapped back to the cafe.
He watched as the man exited the building and headed toward his parked car, climbed in, and left. He abandoned his position, raced through the alley, and spotted Pam.
He crossed the street and jumped into the passenger seat. "Crank it up and get ready."