Free Deadly Straits (A Tom Dugan Novel) by R.E. McDermott Page B

where? In with Miss Walsh?”
    “That’s my business, Alex,” Dugan said, and they’d ridden the rest of the trip in silence.
    ***
    And now I’m homeless in London, thought Dugan as Anna popped her head in the door.
    “How about dinner?” she asked.
    “I’m with you,” Dugan said, standing to leave. “We’ve weighty matters to discuss.”
    “Oh?”
    Dugan smiled. “How’d you like a roommate?”
    ***
    Perfect, thought Braun as Dugan and Anna left. The timing on Sutton’s visit had been spot on, and if the Yank moved in, perhaps they’d spend more time in the apartment, and he could off-load some of the surveillance. A celebration was in order. A nice dinner courtesy of Kairouz and some entertainment. He dialed his cell as he left the office.
    “Send me the little brunette at ten,” he said into the phone. “I forget her name.”
    “Yvette,” a voice said, “and the price is triple. You bloody near killed her last time. I couldn’t work her for days. I expect payment for lost time.”
    “No problem,” Braun said. “Make sure she brings the toys.”
    He hung up and hailed a cab, smiling as he settled in the seat—things were going well.
    ***
    Dugan and Anna stepped out into a beautiful evening, pleasantly full and mellow from wine. He’d recounted his trouble with Alex over dinner as Anna feigned delight at the prospect of cohabitation. Dugan played along, though less than eager to exchange a good bed for a lumpy sofa. Anna clung to him now, head against his shoulder as he started to hail a cab.
    “No, don’t,” she said. “It’s lovely. Let’s walk.”
    Foot traffic was light, but as they reached Anna’s building, a short, bald man, head down and phone to his ear, rushed down the steps to collide with Anna, moving on without slowing. Dugan glared after him.
    “Easy, Tarzan,” Anna said, a restraining hand on Dugan’s arm. “I’m fine. Let it go.”
    Anna tugged Dugan’s arm and they moved inside.
    In the safe haven of the apartment, Dugan relaxed, but before he spoke, Anna clamped a hand over his mouth.
    “I think I’ll shower. Care to wash my back, Tiger?” she asked.
    “Sounds delightful,” Dugan said, nodding as she removed her hand.
    He stood in the bathroom in mute confusion as Anna arranged the showerhead so the water drummed loud against the plastic curtain. She removed her shoes and motioned him to do the same, then led him on tiptoe through the small kitchen and out the back door of the apartment. There were two apartments per floor, all with front entrances served by the residents’ elevator and rear entrances with a common service elevator. As she closed her own door, a tall man in a rumpled suit beckoned from the open back door of the next apartment. Anna entered the apartment with Dugan in tow and followed the man into the living room.
    The tall man grinned. “And how is our Phoenix Shipping slut?”
    “Sod off, Harry,” Anna said. “Lou back yet?”
    “Any minute,” Harry said as a key rattled in the front door and Lou entered.
    “You’re the guy who ran into us,” Dugan said, still confused.
    “Guilty,” Lou said. “I had to let Anna know about the bugs.”
    Anna nodded at the new arrival. “Tom, this is Lou Chesterton and”—she indicated the tall man—”Harry Albright. My colleagues in the Anti-Terrorism Unit.”
    Dugan shook hands as she continued. “Who wired us?” she asked.
    “Sutton,” Lou said. “Professional job. Multiple booby-trapped relays. Untraceable.”
    “Christ,” Dugan said, “there goes our time outside the fish bowl.”
    “Welcome to our world, Yank,” Lou said, turning to Anna. “Shower running?”
    “Less than five minutes, but we don’t have long.” She turned to Harry. “Cover audio?”
    Harry smiled. “Some of the finest sex sounds the Internet has to offer.”
    “Voices?” she asked.
    “Not a problem,” Harry said. “Talk is minimal and a bit… repetitive. I distorted it, and you can put on music to