Page 63 of Lord Have Mercy Part Four: Big Son

“What shall it be?” the man – Abacus – asked. “Will you meet with me?”

What choice did he have?

“Yes,” he said, in a small, choked voice.

“Very good. I’ll reach back out with details soon. Have a pleasant evening, Mr. Shaman.” The line went dead with a click.

Ian held the phone to his ear for a long moment afterward, silence ringing around him.

Behind him, Bruce shifted his weight, and the floorboards creaked. “Sir?” he ventured, at last.

“It’s fine, Bruce.” Ian pulled the phone away from his face long enough to pull up his call log and tap on Ghost’s name.

~*~

Ghost’s phone was the one ringing. He let it go to voicemail. But then it rang again, and when Mike huffed in annoyance, he pulled it from his pocket and saw Ian’s name flashing on the screen.

The call ended, then started up again.

“Not the time,” Ghost snapped when he answered.

“Kenneth, listen to me.” Ian’s voice was high and strained with tension, and so unlike his usual half-flirtatious coy tenor that Ghost did indeed listen. “Abacus called me.”

Ghost stared at Hames’s lifeless body and tried to get his thoughts in some sort of order. “They did?”

“Hedid. The man who considers himself its founder. Don’t ask for his name because he didn’t offer it. He’s European – Eastern, at a guess, but there was a note of French in his accent, I believe, and–”

“Ian.”

A gulping sound issued from the other end of the line. “He’s in the ear of the sniper who has you pinned down. He said – he said you can walk out, and you won’t be harmed.”

“What? Why not?”

“I made a deal with him. Leave the body, and the car. Walk away, and you won’t be harmed.”

Ghost walked toward the nearest window, the one that had been shattered by the bullet, and peered out into the darkness, heart thumping now for a different reason. “What was the deal?”

“Leave that to me. For now, you need–”

“Ian.What was the deal?”

“It doesn’t matter, it kept you alive tonight,” Ian spat, and Ghost could hear the quake of fear beneath his waspish tone. “Get out of the bloody place and ask your FBI man where the nearest private airfield is, and I’ll meet you there in two hours.”

“Ian–” he tried.

“No. I’m coming. But please – Kenneth,pleaseget out of there. Promise me you will. Leave, and find somewhere safe to lie low, and I’ll meet you at the airfield.”

He was so desperate, so frightened, pleading with him, that all Ghost could do was agree. “Okay. Okay, we’ll leave.” When he turned around, he found Fox and Mike giving him different versions of the same darkly incredulous look.

“Leave now,” Ian pressed.

“We will, we will.”

“Call me when you’re away,” Ian said. “I’m calling my pilot now.” Then he hung up.

“What’s he done?” Fox asked when Ghost tucked his phone away.

“Made a deal with the damn devil. But he says we can walk out of here without getting shot.”

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