Killer Instinct - James Patterson Page 0,38
said the Mudir.
“We have mutual interests,” said Sadira.
“How much have you been told?”
“You were infiltrated,” she said. “He was Muslim.”
“He was CIA. He learned of our attack an hour before it happened.”
“Are there others?”
“No,” he said.
The Mudir looked confident. He sounded confident. But they both knew he couldn’t know with absolute certainty if any other cells had been infiltrated.
“Do you need my assistance?” Sadira asked.
He wasn’t expecting the professor to offer her help. “Maybe,” said the Mudir. “We had a setback this morning. You’ll see it on the news. A house in Pelham.”
“Will this change your timetable?”
“No, the next attack will happen as planned.”
The Mudir waited for her to ask the location, but she didn’t. That was good. This woman was smart. She understood how things worked. “You know how to reach me,” she said instead.
Sadira turned to leave. The Mudir wasn’t finished.
“I saw you speak,” he said. “A lecture.”
“When?”
“Some months ago. The Great Thinkers Summit, it was called.” The title obviously amused him. He was shaking his head, smiling. “Americans,” he said. “All they do is think.”
“Worse,” said Sadira. “They always think they know best.”
The Mudir nodded his approval. “We will teach them otherwise, won’t we?”
“Yes,” she said. “Every last one of them.”
CHAPTER 46
IT WASN’T easy, but I got Foxx to buy into my plan. It wasn’t Foxx I was worried about, though.
“Now this is what I’m talking about,” said Tracy, cutting into a twenty-four-ounce bone-in rib eye that was literally bigger than his plate. Native Iowans don’t do fillets. “This was such a great idea, Dylan. Thank you.”
Don’t thank me yet …
We were at the Palm on West 50th Street, one of our favorite steak houses in the city. I’d made the reservation and called Tracy to meet me for an early dinner, but not before making sure Lucinda was available. She’s Annabelle’s babysitter, although we hardly ever use her.
That’s what I was leveraging with Tracy. We needed a night out together, just the two of us.
“I’m glad you were good with this,” I said. “I wasn’t sure you would be.”
Tracy smiled knowingly at the subtext. A baby changes everything.
He and I had caught the homebody bug after Annabelle’s arrival. Going out on a Sunday night—or any night—was tantamount to abandoning her. We both felt it, although Tracy felt it more. He knew it, too.
“Our friends with kids are always telling us, right? How important it is to still make time for each other? But for some reason—”
“Not just some reason,” I said. “The best reason in the world.”
“I know. Annabelle is the greatest thing that ever happened in our lives, but we can’t forget about us. You and me.”
“I agree.”
“I know you do,” said Tracy. “That was my way of saying I’m the one who needs to do a better job of it.”
“Hey, you’re here, aren’t you?”
“Only because you got me here.”
“What’s the difference?”
“That’s true,” he said. “You’ve got to start somewhere, right?”
Good point. So why the hell am I still stalling?
“Speaking of you and me,” I said. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
I couldn’t stand it any longer. I’d requested a quiet table and was planning to tell Tracy before we ordered. Then I was going to tell him before our steaks came. At this rate, it was never going to happen.
I had to tell him. Now.
“Uh-oh, that sounds a bit ominous,” said Tracy, tongue in cheek. “At least I’m already sitting down for this.”
How do you tell someone who thinks he knows everything about you the one thing that changes everything he thought?
The answer is, I don’t know. For better or worse, after nearly a decade of keeping it a secret, I simply blurted it out.
“I used to work for the CIA,” I said.
Tracy didn’t even look up from his rib eye. “Ha-ha, very funny,” he said. “Can you pass the creamed spinach?”
I didn’t pass the creamed spinach. I didn’t do anything except wait for Tracy to realize that I wasn’t kidding around.
Finally he looked up at me. “Wait, what?”
There was no turning back now.
CHAPTER 47
“IT’S TRUE,” I said.
Tracy still didn’t believe me. Or was it shock?
“Did you really just say that? You actually used to work for …” He couldn’t even finish the sentence.
“The CIA, yes.”
“Like, as an analyst? Behind a desk?”
“I was an operative,” I said. “I was in the field.”
Tracy couldn’t stop blinking. “How? Where? When?”
He thought he had me with the timing. He’d known me since college. We hadn’t always been together, though.
“It was after I was at