Rules of Deception

Seeing Jonathan, he stiffened. His eyes homed in like lasers. Is it him? The question was practically broadcast in neon letters across his forehead. Jonathan didn’t flinch. Foisting an underling’s smile, he asked where to set the box of valves. Hoffma

“The shipment has to be at the customs warehouse by ten o’clock tomorrow morning,” he was saying. “The inspectors won’t extend the deadline again. Call me if you run into any problems.” Hoffma

“We talked yesterday on the phone.”

Hoffma

“That’s right.” Jonathan set the box on the desk. “Shout,” he said. “Now’s your chance. Go ahead. Yell for your secretary.”

Hoffma

“You can’t, can you?” Jonathan went on. “You can’t risk having the police come ru

“You’re right about that,” Hoffma

“All I want to know is what she was involved in.”

Hoffma

Jonathan approached the desk with caution. He sat down on the edge of the chair, wincing slightly as the SIG-Sauer tucked into his waistband dug into his spine. “How does this setup run? A company within a company? A secret in-house project? Is that it?”

Hoffma

“I figure you’re manufacturing something you shouldn’t and giving it to someone who shouldn’t have it. What is it? Guns? Missiles? Rockets? I mean, why else set up shop in a place like this? I saw the area on the factory floor blocked off for Thor. What does ‘thermal heating operations research’ mean, anyway?”

Hoffma

“I’ve got some idea. I know that you got your hooks into Emma last year when we were in Lebanon. I figure you have someone over at Doctors Without Borders, too, who helped move me over here.”

“It goes back further than Lebanon,” said Hoffma

“No,” retorted Jonathan. “It all started in Beirut. I was there when she made her decision.” It had to be then, he told himself. That’s why she had the headaches, the depression. She was deciding. “Did she go to Paris to meet with you?”

“Ah, yes, Paris. I remember. All those calls you made, not reaching her at the hotel. We were supposed to forward them, but there was a glitch in technical services. Regrettable. She told me she had a friend cover for her. She said you believed her. I guess not.”

Jonathan ignored the barb. “Who do you work for?”

“Suffice it to say we’re a powerful group. Look around you. You have the Mercedes. The cash, too, I presume. You saw Blitz’s home, and something of what we’ve set up here.” Hoffma

“Not today, it won’t.”

“Turn around, Dr. Ransom,” said Hoffma

“Does that also mean you’re going to call off that guy who took a shot at me last night?”

“I don’t know anything about that.”

“And what about the cops who tried to steal Emma’s bags? Or don’t you know anything about that either?”

“The policemen were contracted out. They got overzealous. I apologize. However, I’d say that you ended up with the better end of the stick.”

“Then who killed Blitz?”

Hoffma

“People who don’t think Thor’s such a good idea? What if they don’t see fit to let me walk off into the sunset?”

“I can’t speak for them. If they made an attempt on your life, I imagine it was because they believe you’re working with your wife.”

“You mean they think I’m working with you?”

Hoffma

“I appreciate the honesty,” said Jonathan. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t do much to solve my problem.”

Hoffma

As he spoke, his eyes blinked rapidly again. An ocular stutter. It was an odd tic, and something about it reminded Jonathan of someone he’d known a long time ago.

“I reiterate my suggestion,” Hoffma

“And I have your word on that?”

“Yes.”

Hoffma

It goes back further than Lebanon.

“I know you.”

Hoffma

Jonathan went on. “You’re McKe

Hoffma

It was him. It was McKe