Hardbingers

5

"Hi, Abe."

"Jack? From the boat you're calling?"

"I'm not on the boat."

"There's been a problem?"

"No. I changed my mind."

"A joke, right?"

"Afraid not."

"Gevalt!"

In the ensuing silence, Jack reevaluated his decision. It hadn't been an easy one. During the drive back, every time he'd lean toward boarding that boat, he'd think about those sunglasses and those bullets. In the end it all had come down to those damn cyanide-tipped bullets. They kept reminding him of the LaGuardia Massacre. It made no sense, he knew. Different caliber, and car-ried by someone who was anything but an Arab. If he'd found a Koran in Smith's bag instead of a novel, the decision would have been made right then and there. But John D. MacDonald didn't incite the slaughter of innocent people.

Then he'd remembered Joey Castles's dying words after they'd hit the Islamic center.

"It's bigger than them. Something else going on."

That had done it. The "something else" left him no choice but to head back to New York.

He'd waited till he'd reached the airport and bought his ticket before calling Abe. He didn't want to disappoint his oldest and best friend, but…

"I'm sorry, Abe. I know you spent a lot of time—"

"Months I spent."

"I know. And I know you called in some favors, but I just can't leave the country right now."

"People have been put in place, schedules have been rearranged, space has been made…"

"I know, I know, and I'm awfully sorry, but something important has come up."

"What could be more important than this trip?"

"I'll explain when I see you."

He heard Abe sigh. "This I've got to tell you, my friend, a replay may not be easy. May not be possible even. Someone's going to be very upset that he went to all this trouble for nothing."

"I'll pay him for his time and trouble—cover all expenses and then some. He'll have his profit."

"Profit isn't everything. There's the matter of respect, which is very important to this man. I'll call him. Maybe he'll be less upset if he should have advance notice, although much in advance this is not."

"Thanks, Abe. I'll make it up to you some way."

He broke the connection and glanced at the departure board. Still had half an hour before takeoff. Should he call Gia?

Probably best not to. Better to explain in person instead of a cryptic phone conversation. He didn't think he was unreasonably paranoid. With his pay-as-you-go TracFone, calls were traceable to his number but not to him, since all subscribers were anonymous. But his calls weren't encrypted and were traceable to whomever he called. With Homeland Security and the Patriot Act in swing, no telling who might be listening in.

He'd wait till he was ready to stop by, then call Gia to give her a heads-up that he was back in town, and tell her he'd explain everything in a few minutes when he got there.

He wondered how she'd take the news. She'd been ambivalent about his new identity, but would she see the sudden change in plans as a lack of commitment to the baby?

No. She knew better. And she'd understand once he explained his reasons.

The call came over the speakers that his plane was boarding.