Mind Game by Iris Johansen
“Do you?” Caleb crossed his arms over his chest. “If I had time, we’d discuss it. Or maybe we do, because I’m not moving until you do what I want.”
Santara cursed, reached for Jane’s cuffs, unlocked them, and threw the cuffs at Caleb.
He caught them and dropped them in his jacket pocket. “Now sit still, Jane, and let me see if they’ve done any damage.” He moved her head back and forth, examining her face and head for bruises. Then his hands were lifting her hair and gently moving her neck back and forth. “This strain seems better.”
She suddenly stiffened as she felt something cold slip down the back of her shirt.
“Did that hurt?” Caleb asked. “I remember that twist was the worst of the injuries.”
She swallowed. “Just a little.”
Caleb glanced at Santara. “I was very irritated with you about that car wreck.”
“Tough. Get the hell out of here.”
Caleb took his hands away and stepped back. “It will be extremely tough if you cause me to have any more problems with her treatment. I’m sure Teresa has discussed it with you.”
“Get going, Caleb,” Jane said suddenly. “Get out of here and do what you have to do. You don’t want to annoy any of these people right now. Teresa said this was the day for erasing all the failures of the past. I’m sure Santara agrees with her.” She met his eyes. “You may not be afraid of what he’ll do right now, but I am.”
Caleb was silent and then he nodded and smiled. “Just playing with him a little. If it’s bothering you, I’ll stop it and head upstairs to do my job.” He turned and headed for the stairwell. “Later, Jane…”
She knew that he had gotten and translated the warning she had tried to give him. That’s all she could do right now.
“‘Later’?” Santara repeated. “That son of a bitch.” He looked at Jane. “You’re smarter than he is. You should be afraid.” He looked at his watch. “And if I haven’t heard from Asad in five minutes, then I may cause considerably more damage to that twisted neck.”
She moved carefully, shifting only a little as she tried to identify the object Caleb had slipped down the back of her shirt by the feel of it against the flesh of her back.
Cold. Metallic. Slender. Perhaps four or five inches.
A dagger? Too small.
She shifted again.
Not totally made of metal.
Glass or plastic on the top.
A hypodermic needle.
She inhaled sharply. And Caleb would have made sure that the fluid in that hypodermic would be fast-acting and effective.
But how to get it out while Santara was only inches from her with that gun ready?
Carefully. Very carefully.
* * *
Caleb was on the phone to Joe Quinn as he took the stairs two at a time back to the fourth floor. “Santara is on the third floor of the parking garage; he’s driving a black Mercedes. And he’s parked in space thirty-two.” He paused, trying to gather his thoughts and subdue the fear. “You may have to be ready to go get Jane and not wait. Get up there where you can see what’s going on. Jane tried to let me know that things could be changing, that I may be a target. She said I should be worried now. But if I am a target, Santara would have to dispose of her before he’d be free to try to take me out. I didn’t think he’d risk that in the parking garage. It doesn’t make sense.”
Joe was cursing. “How much time do we have?”
“Not long. Maybe five minutes. The minute Santara hears that Haroun is dead, he’ll start the cleanup. I managed to slip Jane a hypodermic with curare, a poison. But she may not get a chance to use it. Dammit, I want her away from him.”
Joe muttered a curse. “Then don’t let him get the word that Haroun is dead.”
“I can’t stop it. It’s too late. And it won’t make a difference. He’ll still want to cover his own ass if he thinks that the job’s gone bust. If the wait’s too long, he’ll think I failed. He’s leaning in that direction anyway. Let me know when you get up on the third-floor level, where you can see what’s going on.” He hung up.
Keep calm. Pretend this is just another hunt. Not that Jane was sitting next to Santara with a gun in her ribs. And he had been so damn close to him. But even if he’d struck at the arteries of Santana’s heart, he might have pulled that trigger before the blood surge did its work.
Count on Joe Quinn.
And pray.
Asad Kadir. Concentrate on the orderly. He’d already zeroed in on Kadir’s location in preparation for the move. He was working near the nurses’ station, a few doors down from the operating room. Now he only had to locate him.
And keep his mind off Jane’s expression that last minute, when he’d turned his back and walked away from her.
* * *
“You’re shifting around quite a bit.” Santara was gazing maliciously down at Jane. “Nervous?”
“Why shouldn’t I be?” In the last five minutes, she’d managed to get the hypodermic from her back to the shoulder of her right sleeve, but it would take more active maneuvering to get it down her arm to her hand. “You’ve not been very encouraging about my chances to get out of this. You’re entirely too happy I’m here with you.”
He nodded. “I’m very transparent. Of course, I’d be happier if I was to be allowed free rein with you, but the queen bitch is too selfish. You must have managed to annoy her even more than you did me.”
“Maybe.” She stiffened. “But what do you mean? She’s too selfish?”
“She wants the pleasure all for herself.”
Jane said drily, “I gather you’re not talking about the pleasure of releasing me herself?”
He chuckled. “I think you put two and two together this morning. Teresa has a horror of leaving witnesses. We agree about that.”
She had realized that she was going to be a victim, but she’d thought that Teresa would have shunned doing the kill herself. But it seemed that the woman was transforming, developing more fangs and poison as she evolved.
She had the hypodermic down past her shoulder. Just five or six minutes more … “I hoped I was wrong.”
“Oh no. And I wanted you to realize what she had in store for you even though she told me not to tell you.” He smiled. “Did I tell you how I hate her telling me what to do? Someday I may pay her a visit in that palace she’s going to build outside Moscow. When she least expects it.” He checked his wristwatch. “Asad should have called. I may still be able to toy with you a little and blame it on Caleb. After all, I have to keep—” His phone rang. “Too bad. Want to hear the good news?” He put the call on speaker as he answered. “What’s the word, Asad?”
“Dead. Five minutes ago,” Asad Kadir said, his voice shaking. “I can’t talk long. The soldiers and police are running all over the place, shouting questions and accusations. They’re threatening to put the chief surgeon under arrest. Everything’s crazy up here.”
“How crazy? Did you see Haroun’s body?”
“Just for a second. Blood all over his chest. Flatline.” His voice was suddenly panicky. “I’ve got to get out of here. I didn’t count on its being like this. I’ll contact you later for my money,” he said before disconnecting.
Santara turned to Jane. “Success. But I still think Caleb did something with the anesthesia.”
Blood all over his chest.
Flatline.
She felt sick herself.
“You’re not overjoyed? Teresa will be.” He took out his phone and punched in her number. “It’s done. Asad just confirmed the death, Teresa. Yes, he’s certain. I’ll be there as soon as I finish here. That check had better be ready.” He glanced at Jane. “Yes, I know what I’m to do. I’m not the fool you treat me like.” He hit the disconnect button and smiled. “But I think Asad is correct about ending this quickly. Teresa certainly agrees.” He pressed a button on the phone and spoke into the receiver, “You can have her now, Ganlad.”
She stiffened, her gaze on his face
He unlocked her car door again. “This is good-bye. Though I may see you again if we cross paths before I get my money.” He got out of the car as the giant bald-headed man she had seen in the garden of Teresa’s house came toward him. “This is Victor Ganlad. Perhaps you remember seeing him at Teresa’s?” He exchanged car keys with the man. “I have something to do here, but Ganlad followed us and parked down on the second level to wait until I was ready for him. He’ll be glad to take over for me and drive you to Teresa’s waiting arms.”
Caleb, she thought in panic. Santara was going after Caleb. Her hand instinctively flew to the door handle.
“Oops, forgot something.” Santara leaned back into the car and his fingers dug into the carotid artery in her neck. “I wouldn’t want Ganlad to have any trouble. I might not get my money. Good night, Jane.”
Darkness.
CHAPTER
19
The linen closet on the third floor was only marginally safer than the fourth floor, which was in total chaos right now, Caleb realized as he ran down the stairwell from the fourth floor. But the focus would be on that operating room for at least an hour or so. The lack of proof of murder would stop any in-depth floor-to-floor search until someone high in authority took the reins and ordered it.
It didn’t matter; he had to be there anyway. Santara had to be taken down. And he didn’t have the faintest doubt that Santara would show up in that linen closet, where he thought Caleb would be hiding, within the next few minutes.
His phone vibrated as he reached the third floor.
Quinn.
“She’s not here,” Quinn said. “No Mercedes. No Santara.”
Caleb froze. “What?”
“Dammit, you heard me. But I ran across the street and checked the videos of the outgoing cars for the last fifteen minutes. A black Mercedes left the garage five minutes ago. We must have just missed it while we were running up the ramps to get to the third floor. But it wasn’t driven by Santara. It was a heavyset man, bald-headed. No sign of a passenger.”
“Switched drivers.”
“That’s what I figured.”
No sign of a passenger.
The words had almost paralyzed Caleb. Think.
She could have been slumped over or on the floor in the backseat. She had to be in that car.
“Then Santara might still be here and targeting me,” he said. “I’ll have to get my hands on him to find out what’s happening with Jane. Where are you?”
“In our car, driving up one street and down another, trying to catch sight of the Mercedes.” Quinn muttered a curse. “Damn poor chance.”
“I’ll call you.” Caleb pressed the disconnect.
Spotting that Mercedes was not a matter of a poor chance; it would be almost impossible. Think. Okay, the switch in drivers was unexpected, but it didn’t mean that Santara was assigning someone else to kill Jane. Caleb knew Santara would prefer to do it himself. So she might still be safe.
Or she might not.
Assume that Jane’s first guess was right and Santara had been assigned to kill him.
Go back to square one. And that square was centered on the third-floor linen closet.
He’d give Santara another five minutes before he started going down a blind alley like Quinn was doing now.
Caleb slipped into the linen closet with no problem. All the nurses and other personnel were watching the intercom videos to see what was happening upstairs. It was dim, almost dark, in the deep closet, almost thirty feet long, but he didn’t turn on the light. He could make out shelves piled high with sheets and linens, and mops and brooms shoved against the wall. He went to the very back of the closet to wait.
He could feel his heart pounding.
Had he guessed wrong? Was he wasting precious time?
Come on, you son of a bitch.
Let me get at you and rip your heart out.
Three minutes.
Don’t think about him not coming.
Think about your strategy when he gets here.
Santara wouldn’t use a gun—too much noise. His orders were to not cause anyone to suspect Haroun’s death was anything but natural. It was an indication of how much Teresa wanted to rid herself of him that she’d ordered Santara to do the kill at all. So it would probably be a knife. Swift. Silent. Efficient.
Not efficient enough.
He heard the door open quietly.
Yes.
In the dimness he could still make out Santara’s sandy hair and spare build as he warily entered the closet.
“Back here, Santara,” he called softly. “She must have paid you well to take a chance like this. How are you planning to get rid of my body?”
“A laundry hamper to the basement and then the incinerator.” He moved forward cautiously. “It’s all set up. Even a bribe in place with the janitor to get rid of the ashes. No one’s going to pay any attention to the basement with what’s going on up on the fourth floor. She did pay well, but I would have done it for much less. I keep remembering San Leandro and all the things I had to do because that bitch Teresa was so sure that I couldn’t be trusted to take you out.”
“And you’re so sure you can?” He chuckled. “Why do you think she changed her mind? She’s willing to take a chance you’ll kill me because she wants it so badly. But if you don’t, she’ll get rid of an expensive hit man who could also be a witness. Did you consider that?”
“No, because I will kill you. And I’ll take her money and then plan a few surprises for her. So all her plans won’t be worth shit.”
“How did you get rid of Jane? Who took her?”
“You know about that?” He chuckled. “Worried? I wish I could see your face. Teresa thought she might matter to you.”
“Who took her?” he repeated.
“Victor Ganlad, an errand boy suitable for deliveries. Teresa wasn’t finished with her.” He was moving forward. “Are you ready? Do you know how good I am? Better than some slick con man who has a few tricks and a couple sticks of C-4 explosives. Just tell me one thing. I was right, wasn’t I? About you altering that anesthetic?”
“Why don’t you come a little closer and find out?”
“Oh, I’m coming.” Santara was only a few yards away. The knife in his hand was gleaming in the dimness.
He suddenly dodged to the left and went for the jugular!
But Caleb was no longer there. He’d dropped to the floor and rolled forward, ramming into Santara’s knees.
Santara’s legs buckled, but he recovered immediately and his knife was plunging down at Caleb even as he fell.
Caleb grabbed his wrist, avoided the blade, and was suddenly on top of Santara. He’d have only seconds, but it should be enough.
One second.
Two seconds.
The arteries in Santara’s right wrist exploded!
Caleb’s hand covered Santara’s mouth to smother his scream. “You wanted an answer,” he whispered. “Do you think you have it now?”
Santara was cursing, his eyes on the blood pouring from his wrist.
“I’ve not compromised all the veins and arteries. I can still stop the blood so that you won’t bleed out,” Caleb said. “But you’ll have to give me answers very quickly, or it will be too late.”
Santara was still frantically trying to reach for the knife he’d dropped. Caleb pushed it aside. “You’re very stubborn. You’d rather kill me than live? And you might live if you tell me what I need to know. Then who knows if you’ll get another chance to slit my throat. You said Jane was being delivered to Teresa Romano. Where is Teresa now? She mentioned an airport but we’ve checked out Dubai International. No reservations. No sign of commercial or private rentals of any sort. Where is she? Where did you send Jane MacGuire?”
“Stop this damn blood.” Santara was panting, his eyes wild as he watched the blood begin to pool on the floor. “I’ll kill you if you don’t.”
“You’re not thinking clearly. Ki
“Stop the blood, you freak!”
“Where is she?”
“Stop it and I’ll show you. I’ll take you there. I’m supposed to meet her there anyway. She’ll be expecting me.”
Jane said she thought Santara was crazy, Caleb thought, and the evidence was right here before him. Santara was going to risk bleeding out, and Caleb couldn’t afford to let that happen.
“She’ll kill her, you know,” Santara said. “She’s usually so cool, but she wants Jane MacGuire dead. I think it has something to do with you.” He gasped. “Stop the blood.”
Caleb knew it had everything to do with him. He made the decision. “Shut up. Shallow breaths. Give me a couple minutes.”
“I’m feeling weaker. You’re not doing—”
“Shut up.”
It took more than a couple minutes. Santara had let it go on too long. But the blood finally stopped and Caleb grabbed a hand towel from one of the shelves and wrapped it around Santara’s forearm. “Let’s go.”
“I’m too weak right now.”
“You’ll be weaker if I open those arteries again.” He jerked Santara to his feet. “You’ll take me to Teresa now. You’ll tell me everything I need to know about where she is and what I’ll have to face to get to her. And you’ll do everything I tell you to do to help me get Jane away from her.”
“What if she’s dead?” Santana asked. “That won’t be my fault. Teresa wanted all the ends wrapped up. She even had me kill Gino Romano.”
“Believe me, if Jane is dead, I’ll consider it your fault.” He was pushing him toward the door. “And the fault of anyone else who even touched her or said a foul word to her. Bleeding out will be nothing compared to what you’ll all go through before you die if you don’t get me there in time to help her.”
WEDNESDAY, 11:40 A.M.
“Jane’s being taken to a small private airport in the desert, near Mleiha,” Caleb said as soon as Joe picked up. “That’s the airport where Teresa is taking her flight to Moscow. She had Santara arrange with a few of his drug-running friends to set up a discreet disappearance for her. She’s occupying one of the dealer’s houses, which is in walking distance of the airport, while she’s waiting for the plane.”