t.i.tus's underarms were slick with perspiration, and suddenly he caught the odor of feces. Feces? He looked at Macias, whose eyes were fixed on his bodyguard as if he were the canary in the coal mine. The bodyguard motioned: One man.

With that information, Macias urged t.i.tus forward into the first opening at the same moment that the bodyguard stepped into the other one. At that instant, both t.i.tus and Macias looked toward the bodyguard for another cue, but the man was stone still, looking around frantically. When he'd turned back after motioning to Macias, he'd lost his man.

Fear defined him in that moment, and t.i.tus knew that he knew that he was going to die. The only sound was the dull smack! smack! of the slug hitting his forehead and blowing out the back of his skull, a sound weirdly soft and out of proportion to the sight of his head being flung back violently with a neckpopping velocity that knocked him off his feet. And because his head seemed to recoil at an angle, it was difficult to tell which direction the shot had come from. of the slug hitting his forehead and blowing out the back of his skull, a sound weirdly soft and out of proportion to the sight of his head being flung back violently with a neckpopping velocity that knocked him off his feet. And because his head seemed to recoil at an angle, it was difficult to tell which direction the shot had come from.

t.i.tus went cold. The inexplicable physics of what he'd just seen added to the weirdness of the fact that he was even there.

Then a figure like a demon stood up from behind the sofa, naked, his body smeared with muddy brown and fecal green (a stunning confusion with reality), his hair spiky wild. t.i.tus didn't really understand what he was looking at, and he didn't understand the compression of time, but before either he or Macias could react, the man was holding a small gun to Macias's forehead as he took his automatic away from him and tossed it aside on the floor.

"Who are you? "he asked t.i.tus. Hispanic accent. His eyes were calm but tortured, red rimmed. The whites were very white.

t.i.tus couldn't speak. He smelled the body paint now. And something else, too. There was blood all over the demon, and the odor of it was thick and sweet. t.i.tus could hardly believe his senses. This man-thing wasn't big, but the intensity of its presence was scintillating.

"Who are you? "he asked Macias. He reached around with his left arm and cradled the back of Macias's head with his hand so that his right hand could press the barrel of his strange-looking pistol to Macias's forehead with what must have been a painful force.

"Jorge Macias."

"We're supposed to be alone here, "the demon said. "Why are you here?"

"I came to get a computer, "Macias said with an honesty that seemed childishly absurd.

"Is that all you want?"

"Yes."

"Where is it?"

Macias carefully raised a hand and pointed to the dining room table a few feet from t.i.tus.

"Get it, "the demon said to t.i.tus. "Yes. Yes. Go get it."

t.i.tus went to the table and closed the notebook. It was plugged in. As he was unplugging it, he looked down and saw photographs scattered on the table. They were of various sizes, some in black and white, some in color, some yellowed and limp with age. The images were horrific; a little girl of ten or eleven in various acts of s.e.xual intercourse with men, sometimes several men. Bruises were clearly visible on her little body, which hadn't yet begun to take on the contours of p.u.b.erty.

t.i.tus struggled with a memory, a recognition. A child ... what did he know about a child? Jesus Christ! He remembered ... Burden had told him a harrowing story about Luquin ... and a little girl ... and her father. Artemio. Ospina.

He looked around at the man, who was still holding Macias's head wedged between his gun barrel and his hand, and he was looking at t.i.tus. What the h.e.l.l was going on here?

Something else caught t.i.tus's eye. A cell phone on the table was ringing. The sound was turned off, but a red light stuttered ... stuttered ... stuttered.

"Is this your phone?"

The man said nothing.

"It's ringing, "t.i.tus said.

"Yes, I know."

t.i.tus's phone rang in Macias's pocket.

"Let me get that, "t.i.tus said. "That's my phone. This guy's kidnapped me... ."

"No, "Macias said, his eyes walled as he rolled them at the man holding him. Then he spoke to him in Spanish, and the man cut his eyes again at t.i.tus.

"I don't know what he's saying, "t.i.tus said, suddenly terrified at Macias's ploy, "but he and Luquin had been extorting money from me, and they've killed my friends... . Wait ... wait. I know, you work for Garcia Burden, don't you?"

At the mention of Burden's name, he saw recognition in the demon's eyes. And there was no mistaking the recognition in Macias's eyes, either. Though t.i.tus was actually out of his field of vision, Macias's eyes were rolled in his direction, wide with stunned discovery, as if those two words dazzled with revelation in the shadowy room, like the visionary writing on Belshazzar's wall.

"I hired Garcia to get me out of this thing with Luquin and Macias. Maybe he hired you-"

This wasn't working fast enough, wasn't advancing his argument fast enough.

"These pictures, "he said quickly, "I know about those pictures. Just a few days ago, in San Miguel, Garcia told me. She's the daughter of a guy Garcia knows. Garcia was explaining to me what kind of a man Luquin was, wanted me to know what I was up against."

Everything froze. No sound. No one spoke. This information had done something to the demon that nearly sucked the air out of the room.

And then t.i.tus heard a single, faint snick.

The little pistol had misfired.

Macias and the man both realized what had happened a millisecond before t.i.tus did, and in a flash Macias's right fist drove one, two, three times into the man's upper thigh near his naked groin as Macias charged in a powerful burst of energy, carrying the man backward, both of them falling over the coffee table and onto the floor. Macias dropped the small switchblade as he scrambled for his gun and came up with the gun before the man could recover and just as t.i.tus hurled the laptop across the sofa, catching Macias flat in the chest, knocking him into a backward stagger. He fell back against the giant television screen but kept his balance and came up with the automatic leveled at t.i.tus, who had barreled across the room to within a few feet of him.

Again everything stopped. Everybody was breathing hard, wired, adrenaline pumping.

"Okay, "Macias said. "Pick up the laptop. "He only had to move the automatic inches to cover both men. "Try to throw it again, and I'll kill you. I've got nothing to lose now. "To the naked man: "Is Luquin dead?"

"Almost. "He was holding his thigh, blood all over the sofa.

Macias motioned to t.i.tus to move toward the front door. "We're leaving, "Macias said to the man. "You finish what you came here to do. Don't leave that son of a b.i.t.c.h alive."

Clutching his wounds, the man watched them as they made their way through the entry hall to the front door. Before t.i.tus opened the door, with Macias's automatic again jammed into his kidneys, he glanced back. The pale light from the television flickered on the b.l.o.o.d.y sofa. The man was gone.

Chapter 55.

Suddenly, after an agonizingly long silence, t.i.tus's signal moved out of the house.

"Unbelievable. "Norlin was on the edge of his chair, his neck craning toward the screen.

"The bodyguard's signal's not moving, "a technician said.

"You think they killed him? "asked the other one.

Burden gazed at the screens, ignoring their questions.

"You think Cain is alone? "Norlin asked.

Burden punched the send call on his cell and waited. No answer. He shook his head. "No, he's not alone."

The blip made its way through the neighborhood and then turned left at Highway 2222 and headed west.

"Coming our way, "said a technician.

"We've got a choice, "Burden said to no one in particular, thinking out loud. "Macias has an escape plan. Always. Just for him. Whatever it is, he's headed for it now. He a.s.sumes the car's tagged, so he'll be dumping it. He's going to think he has to keep Cain as insurance. If it goes on like this, it could end in a confrontation. We don't know what happened back at Luquin's, maybe a shoot-out. Don't know if Artemio's dead. Don't know if Luquin's dead. Police may be on the way. And that means discovery. If there's a shoot-out trying to get Cain back, that means discovery. If Cain is killed, even without a shoot-out, that means discovery. If Macias kidnaps him, that means discovery and possibly Cain's death, too."

"You want to let him go, then?"

"If we can guarantee Cain's life, yes, "Burden said. "If we can guarantee silence for this operation, yes. We have to. Even though it means that someone's going to have to deal with the son of a b.i.t.c.h again sometime down the road."

"Cal's in behind them again, "a technician said.

"One more thing, "Burden said. "Now the gun in the seat is in play again. If it hasn't already been found and dealt with."

"Man, that is such a risk, "Norlin said. "That is such a risk. He'll get killed if he tries to use that thing. h.e.l.l, we don't know if he can use it. Why the h.e.l.l did Cal do that?"

"I don't know that it was the wrong thing to do. It might save his life."

"s.h.i.t, it's going to get him killed."

"I don't know, I might've done the same thing. There was opportunity, and not a lot of time to think. It was a choice."

Burden's phone rang, and he snapped it up and answered.

"Garcia Burden, "Macias said. It was just a statement. "h.e.l.lo, Jorge."

"This explains a lot, "Macias said. "I couldn't figure out why so much careful planning was falling apart so fast." "Is he still alive?" "Who?" "Cain." "Yes." "Let me speak to him."

Macias held the phone beside t.i.tus's head. "Tell him you're alive."

"I'm okay, "t.i.tus said.

"You hear that? "Macias asked.

"We need to talk about where we stand, Jorge."

"Go ahead. I can't wait to hear this."

"Is Luquin dead?"

"He probably is by now."

"What's the situation there?"

"Call your f.u.c.king crazy man and ask him."

"I've been trying to."

"Well, he looked like he was very busy."

Silence.

"You've been wiped out, "Burden said. "That's where you stand."

"Keep going."

"We want to make a deal. We'll stop right here, and you can walk away. But Cain walks away, too. Very simple. On the other hand, "Burden added, "if he dies, you die. Guaranteed."

"Maybe I'll just take him with me, "Macias said.

"That's not an option."

Macias already knew that Burden would say that. But maybe they disagreed about what Macias's options were. He wasn't going to tell Burden, but Macias thought that there was some room to be flexible here. Burden would not be bargaining if Macias didn't have a good shot at doing what he wanted to do here.

"How do you propose to do this? "Having to ask the question galled him. It was like asking permission, admitting that Burden had the upper hand. For the moment, at least. But his humiliation was nothing compared to the raw rush of fear that gripped him. He had come so close to being killed, and now he had this one last opportunity to save his a.s.s. He couldn't make any mistakes.

"The car's bugged, "Burden said, "and so is Cain. So we know where he is at every moment. He swallowed it, Jorge, so don't worry about taking all of his clothes off and s.h.i.t like that. I know you have an escape plan. I know you're planning on dumping the car, so go ahead and do that. But leave Cain with it. Alive. If you do that, you live. Anything else, you don't."

"Yes, I know. You've already made that point. "Macias's mind was racing. s.h.i.t. s.h.i.t. The one thing that sounded too neat here was Cain swallowing a bug. Why would Burden tell him that? It seemed to Macias that if it was true, it was the sort of thing you'd want to keep secret. Why else would he swallow it? So why would Burden say that? Because once Macias dumped the car and Burden's people lost visual contact with Macias, then Burden wouldn't have any idea where Cain was. Burden was trying to make Macias believe that he had no choice except to leave Cain with the Navigator. But Macias wasn't buying it. Not that part of the deal, anyway.

Other than that, how the h.e.l.l was he going to make sure they would let him go if he did what Burden wanted?

"This is a delicate moment, Garcia. Do something to make me believe you will do what you say."

"I need to talk to Cain to make it work."

Macias froze.

"Just hand him the phone, "Burden said, sensing Macias's instant suspicion. "I need to calm him down, Jorge. You don't understand, yet, what you're dealing with there."

Macias tried to sort it out, his mind stumbling over itself. He was losing the thread here, getting confused, trying to antic.i.p.ate all the traps, and afraid he wasn't seeing even the obvious ones.

"Hand him the phone, Jorge. He'll hand it right back to you."

This was a f.u.c.king mistake, Macias thought, but he had to make a decision fast. The car was flying down the highway. Soon they were going to have to turn off.

"If you don't do this, "Burden said, "it's not going to work. It's all over."

Macias had every reason in the world not to believe this.

"He wants to talk to you, "Macias said, handing the phone over the seat to t.i.tus.

Sweating, his nerves fraying, t.i.tus reached out, touching Macias's hand as he fumbled for the phone being handed over his shoulder, repulsed at the feel of the other man's flesh.

"Yes."