Free Miracle Cure by Harlan Coben Page B

Most of the guests had already left.
    George had been sitting in the car for hours, watching while his intended victim drove up the driveway in a shiny limousine.
    The poor soul was in the large mansion now, enjoying Dom Perignon champagne and foie gras, hobnobbing with the jet set, never knowing that in a few hours the knife in George's hand would slit open his arteries and extinguish his life forever.
    He examined the stiletto blade front and back. Even in the dark, it gleamed menacingly.
    A limousine drove down the driveway and past him. George looked up. He recognized the license plate immediately. The familiar adrenalin coursed through his veins.
    He turned the ignition key and followed.

4.
    It was a two-on-one fast break. Michael had faced hundreds of them in his career, maybe thousands.
    He watched as the New York Knickv number one draft pick, a scrawny black kid from Memphis State named Jerome Holloway, dribbled toward him with lightning speed. On Jerome's left ran the Knick's second round pick, Mark Boone, a big white guy from Brigham Young who looked like a giant farmhand. The two kids bore down on the old veteran with determination in their eyes.
    Come to Papa, Michael thought.
    Michael knew better than anyone how to defend two men against one: confuse them especially the man dribbling the ball.
    The key was to make the Holloway kid throw an errant pass or to stall him long enough for Michael's teammates, his reinforcements, to arrive.
    Michael head-faked back and forth, alternating between blocking Holloway's trail to the basket and picking up the free man Boone. He looked, he thought, suspiciously like a man having a fit. But that was okay better to shake up the rookies.
    Jerome Holloway headed straight toward the basket. At the last moment Michael stepped in his way. Jerome leaped, his eyes desperately seeking Boone streaking down the other side. Michael almost smiled.
    Once Holloway's feet had left the ground, he had committed. A mistake.
    A pure rookie mistake. Predictably, the kid looked panicky and began to move his arms toward his chest, preparing to throw the ball to Boone.
    Like taking candy from a baby.
    Michael slid between the two, readying himself to steal the pass and head back down the court for a fast break in his favor.
    He had done the same thing countless times before. Games had been decided by such a switch in momentum. Michael stepped forward and extended his hand into the passing lane, just as Holloway was about to release the ball.
    But Holloway pulled back. The passing movement and panicked expression had been a fake. Completely out of position now, Michael watched while Holloway grinned, cupped the ball between his hand and forearm, and glided toward the cylinder.
    The dunk crashed through the basket with remarkable force. The backboard vibrated from the assault.
    Holloway landed and turned toward Michael. The grin was still on his face.
    Out of breath, Michael managed, "I know, I know. In my face, right?"
    Jerome shrugged.
    "You said it, old dude, not me. But I do love playing against legends."
    "This is just practice, kid. We're on the same team."
    "Knicks to the end. By the way, nice shorts."
    "You don't like them?"
    "Pink and aqua flowers? Very hip."
    They ran up court. Sweat soaked all ten players running through the scrimmage. Their bodies glistened in the dim light.
    Michael felt hot, tired, and a touch out of shape. His stomach was not helping matters much.
    The upcoming season would be Michael's twelfth with the New York Knicks. He had begun, like Holloway, as a number one draft pick.
    Coming out of Stanford at age twenty-two, Michael had been a superstar his first year in the NBA, winning the Rookie of the Year Award and making the All-Star team. That same year the Knicks went from last place in the Eastern Conference to second place a twenty-game swing-around. The next year Michael led them to the finals, where they lost in a seven-game showdown to the Phoenix Suns. Two years