them to Eichel?”
“I am supposed to phone him. Then he will say where to meet.”
Ryder considered. “Tell him to come here.”
The man’s eyebrows rose in fright. “They will kill me if I betray them.”
“I’ll kill you if you don’t. Make the call. Put it on speakerphone.”
As if in slow motion, Lara took out his cell and tapped numbers.
Ryder listened as a man with a deep bass voice answered: “Shalom.” The low growl of a car engine sounded in the background.
Lara took a deep breath. “ Shalom. I have the rocks. They are just as you said.”
“You’ve done well. Walk out of the hunt club and turn left—”
Shoulders tensing, Lara interrupted, his voice quivering. “Come here. Please. It would be better than someone seeing me on the roadway.”
The bass voice sharpened. “You’re afraid. Why?”
Ryder caught Lara’s gaze and stared hard at him.
Lara sighed. “There are many dead people. Much blood. More than I—”
“We’ll be there soon.” The connection went dead.
Lara pocketed his cell phone, his expression wretched.
“You’re Jewish?” Ryder asked, remembering the exchanges of Shalom.
“Yes, from Bilbao. Most Basques are like the Padre—Catholic. But plain-door synagogues have always been around; you just have to know where to knock. There is an old Basque saying—we know who the Jews are because we used to be Jews.”
Lara’s being a rare Basque Jew would give Eli Eichel a powerful link to him.
Ryder nodded. “Put the rocks away.”
As the man bent over to do so, Ryder quickly lifted his knee and slashed the heel of his boot down hard onto his skull. With a thick grunt, he toppled, unconscious. Ryder scooped up the limestone pieces, put them into their individual pouches, and then all into the larger leather pouch. He buttoned them into his peacoat’s inside pocket.
Taking a deep breath, he walked over to Eva. She was on her right side, crumpled like a broken doll, her face turned away. A bullet had severed her carotid artery. Her head lay in a pool of freezing blood.
Breathing shallowly, he crouched and cupped her face in his hands. She was still warm. Steeling himself, he turned her face toward him. Her eyes were open, such a beautiful cobalt blue. Her chin was soft and round. Her lips full and sweet. He remembered the violent deaths of comrades, friends, and family. Of his fianc é e. And now, Eva. His eyes burned with grief.
Gently releasing her, he started to get to his feet, then stopped. The sunlight reflected on her unblinking eyes in such a way he saw she was wearing contacts. Eva had never worn contacts. Puzzled, he studied her. He frowned. His heart rate accelerating, he cradled her head in his hands again and used his thumbs to feel around her cheeks, then around her lips. Her skin here was different from her cheeks, softer, more flexible.
Again he probed along her cheeks until he found a line, a subtle demarcation under his thumbs where one side of her seemed normal while the other was more dense, a bit rigid. He heard Tucker’s voice in his mind: “The ME says the devices fit on snugly and are flexible, but when pressed they feel a little stiffer than human flesh.” He pressed deeper until he found a slit, an opening, where the denser “skin” rose along the line of the natural skin. Using his fingernail, he tugged along the edge, slowly lifting up a rim of fake flesh. A prosthesis.
His gaze returned to her eyes. He pried off one of her contact lenses and stared at a pale blue eye. Not Eva’s rich cobalt blue color. Not Eva. Not her.
He let out a long breath. Eva had been doubled, just as he had been. Lifting his head, he looked around at the bloody carnage and felt relief sweep through him. Somewhere Eva was alive.
16
As a cold wind swept down the timbered hills, Ryder looked at his watch. The snipers could arrive at any moment. Jumping up, he took out the tracker he had used to follow Eva’s double and pried open the back. There it
“I am supposed to phone him. Then he will say where to meet.”
Ryder considered. “Tell him to come here.”
The man’s eyebrows rose in fright. “They will kill me if I betray them.”
“I’ll kill you if you don’t. Make the call. Put it on speakerphone.”
As if in slow motion, Lara took out his cell and tapped numbers.
Ryder listened as a man with a deep bass voice answered: “Shalom.” The low growl of a car engine sounded in the background.
Lara took a deep breath. “ Shalom. I have the rocks. They are just as you said.”
“You’ve done well. Walk out of the hunt club and turn left—”
Shoulders tensing, Lara interrupted, his voice quivering. “Come here. Please. It would be better than someone seeing me on the roadway.”
The bass voice sharpened. “You’re afraid. Why?”
Ryder caught Lara’s gaze and stared hard at him.
Lara sighed. “There are many dead people. Much blood. More than I—”
“We’ll be there soon.” The connection went dead.
Lara pocketed his cell phone, his expression wretched.
“You’re Jewish?” Ryder asked, remembering the exchanges of Shalom.
“Yes, from Bilbao. Most Basques are like the Padre—Catholic. But plain-door synagogues have always been around; you just have to know where to knock. There is an old Basque saying—we know who the Jews are because we used to be Jews.”
Lara’s being a rare Basque Jew would give Eli Eichel a powerful link to him.
Ryder nodded. “Put the rocks away.”
As the man bent over to do so, Ryder quickly lifted his knee and slashed the heel of his boot down hard onto his skull. With a thick grunt, he toppled, unconscious. Ryder scooped up the limestone pieces, put them into their individual pouches, and then all into the larger leather pouch. He buttoned them into his peacoat’s inside pocket.
Taking a deep breath, he walked over to Eva. She was on her right side, crumpled like a broken doll, her face turned away. A bullet had severed her carotid artery. Her head lay in a pool of freezing blood.
Breathing shallowly, he crouched and cupped her face in his hands. She was still warm. Steeling himself, he turned her face toward him. Her eyes were open, such a beautiful cobalt blue. Her chin was soft and round. Her lips full and sweet. He remembered the violent deaths of comrades, friends, and family. Of his fianc é e. And now, Eva. His eyes burned with grief.
Gently releasing her, he started to get to his feet, then stopped. The sunlight reflected on her unblinking eyes in such a way he saw she was wearing contacts. Eva had never worn contacts. Puzzled, he studied her. He frowned. His heart rate accelerating, he cradled her head in his hands again and used his thumbs to feel around her cheeks, then around her lips. Her skin here was different from her cheeks, softer, more flexible.
Again he probed along her cheeks until he found a line, a subtle demarcation under his thumbs where one side of her seemed normal while the other was more dense, a bit rigid. He heard Tucker’s voice in his mind: “The ME says the devices fit on snugly and are flexible, but when pressed they feel a little stiffer than human flesh.” He pressed deeper until he found a slit, an opening, where the denser “skin” rose along the line of the natural skin. Using his fingernail, he tugged along the edge, slowly lifting up a rim of fake flesh. A prosthesis.
His gaze returned to her eyes. He pried off one of her contact lenses and stared at a pale blue eye. Not Eva’s rich cobalt blue color. Not Eva. Not her.
He let out a long breath. Eva had been doubled, just as he had been. Lifting his head, he looked around at the bloody carnage and felt relief sweep through him. Somewhere Eva was alive.
16
As a cold wind swept down the timbered hills, Ryder looked at his watch. The snipers could arrive at any moment. Jumping up, he took out the tracker he had used to follow Eva’s double and pried open the back. There it
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