“It wouldn't be very difficult to locate them. I'm sure you could too, if you were interested. If you stand in the way, or expose us somehow, we'll settle for your two daughters. And there won't be any ransom involved. They will just quietly disappear, never to be seen again.” Peter's face went pale.

“Are you telling me that if I don't kidnap the Barnes children for you, or orchestrate it, you're going to kill my children?” Peter's voice cracked and shook as he asked. But he already knew the answer.

“That's precisely what I'm telling you. You have no choice here, as I see it. But I have every intention of making it worth your while. There are three Barnes children, and I'll settle for any one of them. If you can get all of them, fine. If not, any one will do. I want you to hire three good men to do the job. Professionals, not amateurs like you. I want the real thing, so nothing gets bungled. You find them and hire them. I will pay each of them five million dollars, paid into either a Swiss or South American account. I'll pay them a hundred thousand dollars up front, and the rest when the ransom is delivered into our hands. I will pay you ten million dollars to run the show. Two hundred thousand up front, and the balance into a Swiss account. I'll even cancel your debt to me, as of now. The rest is mine.” Peter did a rapid calculation and realized that out of the hundred-million-dollar ransom he was talking about, Addison was keeping seventy-five. He and the three men he hired were supposed to divide up the rest, like so much pie. But Addison had made very clear to him what the ground rules were. If he didn't agree to do it for him, his own two children would be killed. This was beyond playing hardball. This was nuclear warfare. Whatever way Peter turned, he was screwed. He wondered if he could warn Janet of the danger to the girls, before Addison got to them, but he didn't want to rely on that. Addison was capable of anything, he knew now. And Peter wanted none of these children hurt, neither his, nor the Barneses. Suddenly there were five lives at stake, as well as his own.

“You're a maniac,” Peter said, and sat down again. He couldn't see a way out of this, and was afraid there was none.

“But a clever one, you'll have to admit,” Addison said with a smile. “I think the plan is sound. Now you have to find the men. Offer them one hundred thousand each up front. I'll pay you the two hundred thousand up front. That ought to buy you some decent clothes and get a place to stay until you get things up and running. You have to find a location to take them, of course, while we wait for the ransom to be paid. Having just lost her husband, I don't think Mrs. Barnes will take a long time to pay for her children's return. She's not going to want to lose them too.” He correctly assumed that this was a vulnerable time for her, and he wanted to strike while the iron was hot. It was sheer providence that Peter had called. This was the omen he had been waiting for, and the man he needed to run the project. He was sure Peter would know the right men after his years in Pelican Bay. He did, of course, but this was not the job Peter had wanted from him. In fact, he was thinking of just walking out. But then what would happen to his girls? Addison had him by the balls. There was no other way to see it. And if his own chil-dren's lives were in fact at stake, then he had no choice. How could he possibly take the risk? He didn't think Janet would even talk to him, and by the time he found her to tell her of the danger their children were in, his own daughters might be dead. There was no way he was going to take that risk, with a man as dangerous as this. Addison would have had them killed without a second glance.

“And if things go sour with the Barnes children, and something goes wrong? What if one of them is killed?”

“It's your job to see that doesn't happen. Parents aren't generally as enthusiastic about paying ransom for dead kids. And it upsets the cops.”

“Never mind the cops. We're going to have the FBI on our asses the minute those kids disappear.”

“Yes, we will. Or you will. Or someone will,” Addison said pleasantly. “Actually, I'm going to Europe this summer. We're going to the South of France, so I'm going to be leaving this matter in your very capable hands.” And avoiding any possible implications that he was involved in it, of course. “By the way, if one of your men gets caught in the process of this, I am prepared to pay them half the promised amount. That should cover their attorney fees, and even a fairly reliable escape.” He had thought of everything. “And you, my friend, can either brazen it out here afterward, or disappear very comfortably to South America, where ten million dollars will buy you a very agreeable life, whichever you think best. We might even do some business together after that. You never know.” And Addison would be blackmailing him forever, of course, threatening to expose him to the FBI, unless he did whatever Phillip wanted. But no matter how he looked at this, what clinched it for Peter was his own children's lives on the line. Even if he hadn't seen them since they were toddlers, he still loved them, and he would die before he'd put them at risk. Or risk prison, or even the death penalty to protect them. All he could think now was that it was his responsibility to see to it that the Barnes children weren't killed in the course of the kidnap. It was the only thing he wanted, even more than the ten million dollars.

“How do I know you'll pay?” When Peter asked the question, Phillip knew he was in. It was done.

“You get two hundred thousand in cash up front. The rest paid into a Swiss account when the job is over. That ought to give you enough play money for now. The rest will come when we get paid. Not a bad petty cash account for an ex-con without a pot to piss in. Wouldn't you say?” And he had already said that Peter's previous debt to him was canceled. Peter didn't answer, he just stared at him, shaken by all he'd heard. In the last two hours, his entire life had gone down the drain again. There was no way he would ever be able to explain the money, and he would be on the run for the rest of his life. But Addison had thought of that too. “I'm prepared to say that I fronted you the money for a business deal with me, and the investment paid off brilliantly. No one will ever know.” But Addison would. And no matter how he cooked his books, there was always the risk that someone would talk. The prisons were full of guys who thought their asses were covered, until someone sold them out. And Addison would own his ass for the rest of his life. But he already did. The moment he explained the plan to him, it was all over for Peter. Or his kids. And the Barnes children for sure.

“What if she doesn't have the money? If he lost some of it?” Peter asked sensibly. Stranger things had happened, particularly in the current economic climate. Fortunes had come and gone in the last few years, leaving in their wake a veritable Everest of debt. Addison only laughed at the idea.

“Don't be ridiculous. A year ago the man was worth half a billion dollars. You can't lose that much money if you try.” But others had. Addison just refused to believe it about Barnes. He had been too smart to lose it all, or even most of his fortune, or so Addison thought. “The man was pure gold. Trust me. It's all there. And she'll pay. Who wouldn't? All she has now are her kids, and his money. And all we want is half of it. That leaves her plenty to play with, and her family intact.” As long as they stayed that way. That was going to depend now on the men Peter chose. It was all resting on him. His life had turned into a nightmare in the past two hours. Worse than ever before, and beyond anything he could imagine. He was risking the death penalty, or life in prison at the very least.

Addison opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out an envelope of money. He had prepared it before Peter arrived. And he threw it across the desk.

“There's a hundred thousand dollars in there, to give you a start. The other hundred thousand will be delivered to you next week, in cash, for whatever your petty cash needs are. It's against the ten million you'll get in the end. You walked in here a bum and an ex-con two hours ago, and you're walking out of here a rich man. Keep that in mind. And if you ever implicate me in any way in this, or even so much as breathe my name, you'll be dead within a day. Is that clear? And if you get cold feet, and try to back out, just think of your girls.” He had Peter by the ass, the balls, and the throat. And he knew it. There was nowhere for Peter to turn. “Start looking for your men now. Pick the right ones. I want to start watching her by next week. And when you pick your men, make clear to them that if they run with their hundred thousand, and skip out on us, they'll be dead within two days. I can guarantee that.” His eyes said he meant it, and Peter believed him, and knew it applied to him too.

“When do you want to do this?” Peter asked, slipping the envelope into his pocket, and feeling numb. “What's your target date?”

“If you hire all three men within the next week or two, I think if we watch them for the next four to six weeks, we'll know all we need to know about them. You should be able to make your move at the beginning of July.” He was leaving for Cannes on the first of July. He wanted to be out of the country before they did it. Peter could guess that much.

Peter nodded and looked at him. His entire life had changed in the last two hours. He had an envelope full of money in his pocket with a hundred thousand dollars in it. And by the following week, he would have another hundred thousand dollars, and it meant nothing to him. All he had accomplished in the single afternoon he had spent with Phillip Addison was selling his soul in exchange for his daughters' lives. And with any luck at all, he would keep the Barnes kids alive too. The rest meant nothing to him. The ten million dollars was blood money. He had sold his soul to Phillip Addison. He might as well have been dead, as far as he was concerned. In fact, he was. He turned to walk out of the room, without saying another word to Addison, who watched him go, and just as Peter reached the doorway, Addison spoke up.

“Good luck. Stay in touch.” Peter nodded and walked out of the office, and took the elevator downstairs. It was seven-thirty when he stepped outside. Everyone had left hours before. There was no one else around as Peter leaned over the garbage can on the corner and threw up. He stood there retching for what seemed like a long time.





Chapter 9


As Peter lay in bed in the halfway house that night, he thought about contacting his ex-wife. He wanted to warn her to be especially careful with the girls. But he knew she'd think he was insane. He didn't want Addison pulling a stunt on him, and holding them hostage until he accomplished the task he'd been assigned. But Addison was smarter than that. He knew that if he put Peter's kids at risk or worse, Peter would have nothing left to lose, and would expose him. So as long as Peter did what he had been hired to do, the girls were safe. It was the only thing he had done for his daughters in the last six years, or maybe their entire lives. He had bought their safety at the expense of his own. He was still having trouble believing they would be able to pull it off. But if he picked the right people, maybe he could. It was all about who he hired now. If he picked a bunch of sloppy, careless criminals, they might panic and kill the kids. What he had to find now was the real thing. The smoothest, toughest, coldest, most competent men in the business, if there was such a thing. The men he knew from prison had already proven their ineptitude by being caught, or maybe their plans had been flawed. Peter had to admit that Addison's strategy was very smooth. As long as Allan Barnes's widow had the money he wanted at her disposal. It was unlikely she kept a hundred million dollars in cash at home, in a cookie jar.

He was thinking about all of it, as he lay on his bunk, and his roommate walked in. He was going to look for a room in a decent hotel the next day, nothing too showy or expensive. He didn't want to make a sudden show of wealth he couldn't explain, although Phillip Addison had told him he was going to put him on the books of one of his minor subsidiary companies as a consultant. It was allegedly a market research firm, and was in fact a front for one of his drug rings. But it had been operating for years without a problem, and could be traced nowhere to him.

“How'd it go today?” the roommate asked. He had spent a killing day working at Burger King, and reeked of burgers and french fries. It was only a modest improvement over the way he'd smelled the week before, when he'd worked in a place that served fish and chips. The whole room had smelled of fish. The burger smell was only slightly better.