Read Eagle's Heart for Free Online Page B

sat in the cool darkness of his office, fingers poised delicately on the clasps of the briefcase he had just closed. He watched the emotions play over the director of the Balkan Gang Squad’s face as the man tried in vain to hide them: revulsion, guilt, anger. Westerners, especially Americans, were always easy to read. When your biggest worry was where to get your next cheeseburger, your sense of self-preservation tended to atrophy.
    Bardhyn had no qualms about handing over a large chunk of cash to Henderson; he needed to know how much info the feds had about his connection with the West Africans he was meeting with this week, and the money was a pittance compared to what he’d make on the deal with the Islamists.
    He just enjoyed toying with the man.
    “It feels like I can pay for both of my kids to go to college without having to mortgage my house again,” Henderson said with feigned cheer as he reached for the case.
    Bardhyn didn’t remove his hands, his fingers drumming out a staccato rhythm on the taut leather. “And if one of these agents were to die as a result of your bargain, how would you feel then?” he asked, smiling as Henderson’s face went pale, almost as pale as the man’s thinning gray hair.
    He knew there was no risk of Henderson reneging on their deal, and he intended to wring some enjoyment out of the situation. Excitement tickled at his skin and raised the hairs on his wrists as he waited for the man’s answer.
    Henderson pulled his arm back, balling his hands into fists. “You gave me your word that there would be no deaths,” he said.
    Bardhyn laughed. If you gave a man a bit of hope to cling to, however improbable, he would hang on for dear life as he followed you to hell. “I hate to list my accomplishments, but you’re the director of the task force assembled to catch me, and therefore most familiar with my…” He paused and searched for the right turn of phrase. “With my modus operandi, and you still take me at my word? I’m honored.”
    “Are we finished here?” Henderson asked, face shifting from blanched to a mottled flush.
    “Of course, Director,” Bardhyn said, locking the case with a flick of his thumbs and passing it to the man. “And if you want to make use of a girl on your way out, I suggest the young Mexican minx in room three. Only recently deflowered, but a fast learner. I won’t tell her you’re the man who’s supposed to be saving her.”
    Henderson emitted a strangled sound, and his jaw worked in repressed fury. Bardhyn thought he would leave without a word, but the man stopped at the door and glared at him, surprising for a worthless bureaucrat.
    “You know, you might be surprised to find that our main consultant on this case is Albanian,” Henderson said. “Says he knew you pretty well too. Guess that Besa isn’t so unbreakable.”
    Bardhyn smiled indulgently. That wasn’t likely. Anyone who was close enough to him to pose a threat had been culled, with the exception of Linda. She served as both his right hand and as his reminder that no one, no matter how close, was immune to his wrath if they thought of crossing him.
    “Someone’s obviously lied on their résumé,” Bardhyn said. “It’s not like you’re supposed to be on friendly enough terms with me to follow up on their claims.”
    “He’s the one who connected you to the teacher,” Henderson said with a shrug. “Said the whole mind-fuck thing was right up your alley. He even told us a fun little story about you getting a hard-on when a teacher disciplined you in front of the class one day, and how the other boys teased you until you ran home crying.”
    Bardhyn kept the serene smile on his face, but he had the slightest sensation of something he wasn’t very familiar with: unease.
    “I’ll see myself out,” Henderson said.
    As the door closed, Bardhyn heard the click of Linda’s lighter, the long draw on her cigarette.
    “You shouldn’t have antagonized him so much, Birdie,”