“And maybe he is.” Betworth wasn't going to admit his own doubts to Jurgens. “He didn't get Morgan, but he managed to rid us of Powers. And you haven't gotten Morgan yet either.”
“If you'd let us spring the trap, there wouldn't have been this problem.”
“I needed Runne to spring it. I needed him to owe me.”
“You believed he'd keep his word?”
“The psychological profile I have on him indicates that he'd rather be burned alive than break his word. It's part of the brainwashing he underwent in the camps. And it's a job he's been trained to do every minute since he was fourteen.”
“Even if he has the will, he may not have the skill. He screwed up this job.”
“Drop it. I'll make that determination.” He managed to keep the edge from his tone. “Or are you volunteering to take over Runne's job at Z-3?”
“No way,” Jurgens said. “I'll let you know when we catch Morgan.” He hung up.
No, Jurgens didn't want any part of it. Betworth didn't blame him. Only an obsessive son of a bitch like Runne would take on that job. Providing Betworth remained convinced he could do it. The Powers disposal had not been clean, and that's what he must have at Z-3.
Clean and deadly.
Clean. It had to be clean.
Runne rolled the young intern's corpse into the hole he'd dug and began to shovel in dirt. Christ, his face hurt. He'd take some of the painkillers the doctor had given him after he finished, but the pain reminded him of his failure. And he had to remember so that he wouldn't repeat the mistake. Mistakes weren't tolerated. Carelessness was a cardinal sin. The shame of not being able to claim a clean kill with Powers was almost unbearable. It must never happen again, and no one must know he'd failed.
This kill had been clean. No one had seen him take the young intern at the hospital. No one had seen the death. Now he must smooth the grave and cover it with leaves.
The damn doctor had been too slow. Runne had threatened him, but his hands had been too shaky to hurry. Now it was too late to go back to Powers's house and hope to catch Morgan. But if he could keep Betworth from knowing of his shame, then he would be given another chance.
Ignore the pain. He deserved it.
Bury him deep. Smooth the earth. Cover it with leaves. . . .
“Out,” Chuck Fondren said as he opened the door of the truck. “I want to get away from here.”
“Where are we?” Alex asked as Morgan helped her from the van.
“Prescott, West Virginia. It's forty miles from Huntington.” The driver nodded at a rickety cedar house down the road. “That's your destination. This is where I was told to bring you.” He threw the duffels to the ground. “Good luck. I'm out of here.”
“Thank you,” Alex said. She couldn't blame him for being glad to be rid of them. He'd risked a good deal driving them here. But when Galen called, his people seemed to jump to it. She gazed ruefully at the ramshackle farmhouse as the moving van roared off down the road. “Have you noticed our abodes have been going downhill lately? You must have a talk with Galen.”
“It's hard to get good help these days.” He started down the road. “Personally, I'm just happy if there's no welcoming committee.” He stiffened, grabbed her arm, and pulled her into the bushes. “I spoke too soon. Who the hell is—”
Her gaze followed his to the man who'd come out onto the porch. She sighed with relief. “It's Logan. Don't you recognize him?”
“I've talked to him on the phone, but I've never met him in person.” His body language was still tense. “And I'm not sure I like him dropping in. He looks pretty grim.” He moved out of the bushes. “But we may as well find out what he wants. I doubt if he's brought the gendarmes.” His gaze held Logan's as he strode toward him. “This is a surprise, Logan,” he called as he neared the house. “And I thought you'd abandoned us.”
“I'd like nothing better.” Logan's glance shifted to Alex. “Are you okay? Galen said you'd had an accident.”
“It's getting better. How's Sarah?”
“Furious. Ready to do battle with the FBI and the media.” He grimaced. “And me. Particularly me. After this idiocy came out about you belonging to a terrorist group, I had to confess and reassure her you were being cared for.” He looked back at Morgan. “Though I wasn't sure it was true.”
“I kept her alive. That's what you asked me to do.” Morgan stopped in front of him. “Now, are you going to stand here sniping at me or are you going to help? Something very nasty is in the works.”
“So I gathered from Galen. Why the hell do you think I'm here? We have to sort this out, and I couldn't do it long distance.” He turned on his heel and headed for the screened front door. “You'll be sorry to know that the interior of this hog pen is worse than the outside. But come inside and we'll talk.”