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He’d heard whispers of Gabe before, of course. Everyone had heard whispers. But no one really believed he existed. Men like that didn’t really exist. But Gabe Brennan did exist, and Kimball had seen it as a personal challenge to make the legend nothing more than a pathetic memory.
Once Kimball had found out about Gabe, he’d known immediately he would have to betray him to Tussad to get the exact outcome he wanted. They’d had to work quickly because Gabe was trained to be aware when things were about to turn to crap. They’d managed to find out as much about Gabe Brennan as anyone knew in less than twenty-four hours. As soon as they’d discovered he had a wife and daughter, it was clear what their course of action should be. And when they dug a little deeper into Grace’s background, it was decided that she’d be left alive. Her kind of talents might be of use in the future.
He laughed despite his throbbing face. She was about to become very useful. And Deckard Sloane was about to get a rude awakening. The Passover Project was about to go on the open market to the highest bidder. And Gabe Brennan was going to help him do it.
He picked up the dead pilot’s phone and pressed the button to dial back his last call.
“What’s going on, Simon?” Gabe said on the other end of the line.
“Simon isn’t available at the moment. He’d have to pick up all of his intestines off the floor first.”
There was a slight pause on the other end of the line, but Gabe didn’t disappoint him. His voice was cold and unemotional.
“And who would this be?” he asked.
“Someone who has a deal to offer.”
“Ahh, this must be the infamous Shawn Kimball. You’ve got a lot of varied interests. I found your file interesting.”
“Did you?” Kimball asked. “I found yours interesting as well. Of course, I read it before it was wiped from the system. But I remember you well.”
“I had a feeling we might have crossed paths before. But I don’t think you’re the man in charge of this particular operation. Have you decided to take matters into your own hands?”
“You could say that.” Kimball appreciated the fact that he didn’t have to spell things out for his adversary. It put them on a much more level playing ground. “I’ve decided my employer isn’t the man to handle the Passover Project. I’m even willing to give you his name once we get down to business.”
“And do we have business?” Gabe asked.
“I’ve been impressed with how quickly you’ve tracked us down. Killing Standridge certainly put a wrench in things, but you didn’t destroy all of his research. I’ve already found another scientist willing to take up the good doctor’s work.” Kimball knew he had Gabe’s attention now. “And I know you’ll have the next part of the formula once you steal the painting.”
“The problem is that even if you manage to steal the part of the formula that I’m stealing,” Gabe said, “you still have to find a scientist to recreate what’s already been destroyed.”
Kimball laughed. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ve had the missing part of the formula all along. My employer was kind enough to already have it in his possession. It seems he’s somehow related to the original scientist who created the formula. Genetics are interesting. Haven’t you ever wondered where you come from?”
“I don’t have the time to have the birds-and-the-bees talk with you, Kimball. You’ve yet to tell me how we have business. In the next few hours, I’m going to be in possession of the last part of the formula you need. It’ll be a cold day in hell before I give it to you.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. You’ll give the painting to me and walk away.”
“Will I? Why would I do something like that?” Gabe asked.
“Because I have something I believe you’ll want back.” Kimball looked at Grace once more, wishing he could slit her throat and send him the pictures. But the time for her to die would come soon. “She’s not dead yet. Your wife put up a hell of a fight. Of course, she’s still a woman. It wasn’t hard to take her down.”
He appreciated the fact that Gabe didn’t even pause to think as he lied.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kimball.”
“I think you do. We’ll make an even trade. You’ll give me the painting, and I’ll give you back your wife. If you manage to do it within the next sixteen hours, I’ll make sure I don’t give her back to you in pieces.”
“Give me the name of the man who hired you as an act of good faith.”
Kimball leaned back in his chair and adjusted his ice pack. Gabe Brennan was at least entertaining.
“Sure,” Kimball said with a shrug. “If you kill him, it’ll save me the trouble. It was going to be a real pain anyway. I’m working against the clock as it is. You’ve probably heard of him. His name is Deckard Sloane.”
The silence on the end of the phone was very telling. “As in the Speaker of the House, Deckard Sloane?”
“That’s the one.”
“Interesting,” Gabe said, unfazed.
