Page 25 of Murder Island

What? Who?

Kira’s mind reeled. She tried not to show any reaction, but she couldn’t control the pounding of her heart. Untilthis moment, she had thought the only Savage alive in the world was the one she’d left behind on the island.

“It’s a shame we never met at school,” the captain said. “I was several years ahead of you.”

Kira’s brain was swimming now, but she kept her voice calm and firm. “With a name like Savage,” she said, “you’d think I’d have heard of you.”

The captain shook his head. “I was never a star pupil like you. Just a legacy admission.”

Kira blinked and did some mental calculations. Strange as it was, the story was starting to add up—and it went way, way back. “If you’re Cal Savage the Fourth,” she said, “then your ancestor was…”

“Yes. Cal Savage the First. The original Doc Savage’s twin. The brother who got absolutely no attention from anybody. The one the world forgot all about.”

“He was there. In Russia,” said Kira. “He cofounded the school.” The origin of the academy for killers was a tightly held secret. But Kira had learned the truth before she escaped, years ago.

“Correct,” said the captain. “He was in on the beginning, in partnership with your great-grandfather, John Sunlight. Savage and Sunlight. Two neglected geniuses against the world.”

“Sickgeniuses,” said Kira. “People are dying every day because of what they taught.”

“True, Ms. Sunlight,” said Savage reflectively. “Butsomehow, not you. I have to admit that I admire your longevity. Even though I’ve tried to kill you myself. Many times.”

“Where’s Doc?” Kira asked again.

“Forget him,” said Savage. “He can’t save you this time.”

“Is he dead?”

Savage smiled. “Wrong question.”

CHAPTER 29

NILS AND LUCAS Olsson were having the night of their lives. Qatar was a long way from Solberg, the tiny Swedish hamlet where the two brothers grew up. After a couple of years together in the army and another with a UN peacekeeping force in Sudan, their international connections had finally paid off.

Still in their twenties, they were newly minted moguls in the underground weapons business, and they had just filled a huge order for Stinger missiles from an offshoot of Hamas. It meant more money than either of them had ever imagined, and they were spending a small chunk of their advance tonight.

Dinner had been broiled lobster and Kobe steaks, complemented with a very expensive Veuve Clicquot. Their brains were swimming by the time they got to the club, and now they were indulging in yet another luxury—the attentions of four very beautiful young women, wearingvery few clothes. The glow in the private upstairs lounge came from dozens of scented candles. Electronic music pulsed from concealed speakers. The chairs were covered in full-grain leather, the pillows in pure satin. Nils and Lucas had paid in cash for the privilege of being the only customers here.

Worth every riyal.

The men sat side by side in lush recliners as the girls took turns dancing for them, kissing them, stroking them, straddling them. From time to time, the siblings turned their heads to grin at each other, as if to say “Can you believe this?”

The curtain to the small alcove parted. Another young woman walked in, even prettier than the others. She carried a silver tray with two thick crystal tumblers. “Your cocktails,” she said in perfect Swedish. “With our compliments.” She bent forward, displaying an elaborate butterfly brooch clipped to her sheer blouse.

“Do you speak English?” Nils asked. One of the other girls had her tongue in his ear. He pushed her aside.

“Of course,” said the hostess, switching effortlessly.

“Good,” said Lucas. “None of these girls do. And we need to practice.”

“For business,” added Nils. The girl on his lap was grinding her hips slowly against his crotch.

“Excellent language to know,” the hostess said. “For business.” She gave him a charming smile. “But you both need to work on your accents if you want to be taken seriously.”

“Is that so?” said Nils. “Maybe you’ll be our…” He fumbled for the right word. “Instructor?”

Both men took their drinks from the tray, then clinked the glasses and toasted “To English!” They tipped their heads back and gulped, ice cubes rattling against their teeth.

The hostess glanced at the other four women and made an almost imperceptible flick with her hand. They immediately disengaged and disappeared behind a thick curtain at the rear of the room.

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