Cross Country (Alex Cross 14) - Page 35

I HAD PLENTY of other tough questions to ask Tokunbo about the Tiger and his gang of savage boys, but he was Flaherty’s informant, and I followed his protocol. I owed it to him to keep my mouth shut until we were out of earshot anyway.

“What’s with the quick in-and-out?” I said once we had left the rug seller’s stall.

“He’s in Sierra Leone. Dead end, no good. You don’t want to go there.”

“What are you talking about? How do you even know the information’s good?”

“Let’s just say I’ve never wanted my money back. Meanwhile, you’re better off cooling your heels here for a few days, a week, whatever it takes. See the sights. Stay away from the prostitutes, especially the pretty ones.”

I grabbed Flaherty’s arm. “I didn’t come all this way to cool my heels by the hotel pool. I’ve got one target here.”

“You are a target here, my man. You ever hear the saying ‘You’ve got to stay alive to stay in the game’? This is a very dangerous city right now.”

“Don’t be an ass, Flaherty. I’m a DC cop, remember. I’ve done this kind of thing a lot. I’m still standing.”

“Just . . . take my advice, Detective Cross. He’ll be back. Let him come. You can die then.”

“What’s your advice if I still want to go to Sierra Leone?”

He took a breath, feeling resigned, I think. “He’ll probably go to Koidu. It’s near the eastern border. Kailahun’s a little too hot right now, even for him. If he went over ground, that means he’s trading—which means oil, or maybe gas.”

“Why Koidu?”

“Diamond mines. There’s an unofficial oil-for-diamonds trading corridor between here and there. He’s heavily into it, from what I hear.”

“Okay. Anything else I should know?”

He started walking again. “Yeah. You got a best buddy back home? Call him. Tell him where you keep your porn, or whatever else you don’t want your family to find when you’re dead. But hey, have a good trip, and nice knowing you.”

“Flaherty!” I called, but he refused to look back, and when I got outside the market, I found that he’d stranded me there.

So I wandered back inside and bought some fresh fruit—mangoes, guavas, and papayas. Delicious! Might as well live it up while I could.

Tomorrow I would be in Sierra Leone.

Chapter 53

ON A SUN-BEATEN dirt road that twisted through what used to be a forest outside Koidu, a fifteen-year-old boy was slowly choking to death.

Slowly, because that’s exactly how the Tiger wanted it to happen.

Very slowly, in fact.

This was an important death for his boys to watch and learn from.

He closed his grip even tighter on the young soldier’s esophagus.

“You were my number one. I trusted you. I gave you everything, including your oxygen. Do you understand? Do you?”

Of course the boy understood. He’d palmed a stone, a diamond. It was found under his tongue. He was probably going to die for it now.

But not at the Tiger’s hand.

“You.” He pointed to the youngest of the other boy soldiers. “Cut your brother!”

The lad of no more than ten stepped forward and unsheathed a clip-pointed Ka-bar, a gift for him from the Tiger’s trip to America. With no hesitation at all, he shoved the blade into his brother’s thigh, then jumped back to avoid the spurting blood.

The Tiger kept his own hand where it was on the thief’s throat; unable to even scream, the boy just gagged.

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