he’s omnipotent.”
“They say he is.”
Whitney stopped and turned. It was the way he said it, as though he half believed it, that made her flesh crawl. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Cautious.” He scanned the terminal as they walked. “You’re better off walking around a ladder than under it.”
“The way you talk about him, you’d think he wasn’t human.”
“He’s flesh and blood,” Doug murmured, “but that doesn’t make him human.”
The shiver skimmed along her skin again. Turning toward Doug, she jolted into someone and dropped her bag. With an impatient mutter, she bent to pick it up. “Look, Doug, no one could possibly have caught up with us already.”
“Shit.” Grabbing her arm, he yanked her into a gift shop. With another shove, she was up to her eyes in T-shirts.
“If you wanted a souvenir—”
“Just look, sweetheart. You can apologize later.” With a hand on the back of her neck, he steered her head to the left. After a moment, Whitney recognized the tall, dark man who’d chased them in Washington. The moustache, the little white bandage on his cheek. She didn’t need to be told that the two men with him belonged to Dimitri. And where was Dimitri himself? She caught herself sliding down lower and swallowing.
“Is that—”
“Remo.” Doug mumbled the word. “They’re faster than I thought they’d be.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth and swore. He didn’t like the feeling that the web was widening at Dimitri’s leisure. If he and Whitney had strolled another ten yards, they’d have walked into Remo’s arms. Luck was the biggest part of the game, he reminded himself. It was what he liked the best. “It’ll take them a while to track down the hotel. Then they’ll sit and wait.” He grinned a little, nodding. “Yeah, they’ll wait for us.”
“How?” Whitney demanded. “For God’s sake how could they be here already?”
“When you’re dealing with Dimitri, you don’t ask how. You just look over your shoulder.”
“He’d need a crystal ball.”
“Politics,” Doug said. “Remember what your old man told you about connections? If you had one in the CIA and you made a call, pushed a button, you could be on top of someone without leaving your easy chair. A call to the Agency, to the Embassy, to Immigration, and Dimitri had a handle on our passports and visas before the ink was dry.”
She moistened her lips and tried to pretend her throat hadn’t gone dry. “Then he knows where we’re going.”
“You bet your ass. All we have to do is stay one step ahead. Just one.”
Whitney let out a little sigh when she realized her heart was thumping. The excitement was back. If she gave herself time it would smother the fear. “Looks like you know what you’re doing after all.” When he turned his head to scowl at her she gave him a quick, friendly kiss. “Smarter than you look, Lord. Let’s go to Madagascar.”
Before she could rise, he caught her chin in his hand. “We’re going to finish this there.” His fingers tightened briefly, but long enough. “All of this.”
She met him look for look. They had too far to go to give in now. “Maybe,” she said. “But we have to get there first. Why don’t we catch that plane?”
Remo picked up a silky bit of fluff Whitney would have called a nightgown. He balled it into his fist. He’d have his hands on Lord and the woman before morning. This time they wouldn’t slip through his fingers and make him look like a fool. When Doug Lord walked back in the door he’d put a bullet between his eyes. And the woman—he’d take care of the woman. This time… slowly he ripped the gown in half. The silk tore with hardly a whisper. When the phone rang, he jerked his head, signaling the other men to flank the door. Using the tip of his thumb and finger, Remo lifted the receiver. When he heard the voice, his sweat glands opened.
“You’ve missed them again, Remo.”
“Mr. Dimitri.” He saw the other men look over and turned his back. It was never wise to let fear show. “We’ve found them. As soon as they come back, we’ll—”
“They won’t be back.” With a long, smooth sigh, Dimitri blew out smoke. “They’ve been spotted at the airport, Remo, right under your nose. The destination is Antananarivo. Your tickets are waiting for you. Be prompt.”
C H A P T E R
4
Whitney pushed open the wooden shutters on the window and took a long look at Antananarivo. It