Page 81 of Tom Clancy Line of Sight

“Why do you ask? Has something come up?”

“I’m just concerned about the Slovenian situation.”

“Did that woman finally get around to filing charges against me?”

“No, Jack. She’s dead.”

“What? How?”

The light turned green and Jack marched past the assassination corner without noticing.

“Heart attack. She was under police protection at the time, still recovering from the adult spanking you gave her.”

“Why was she under police protection? The cops knew I left for Sarajevo.”

“She said she was afraid you’d come back to hurt her.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. Either she was crazy or she was afraid of somebody else coming to get her, and used me for an excuse to get protection.”

“Bingo. The Slovenian cops suspect foul play. She was murdered or committed suicide. Either way, we think she might be a gun monkey for an outfit called the Iron Syndicate. Mean anything to you?”

“Never heard of them.”

“We’re dry on our end, too, but we’re shaking a few trees—gently. Still can’t confirm anything.”

“Then there’s nothing to worry about.”

“It’s the fact we can’t confirm one way or another that’s got me worried, son. If they exist and we’re having this hard of a time finding them, they’re a serious outfit. And they’re gunning for you.”

“I’ll keep my head on a swivel,” Jack said, hearing Clark’s raspy training voice shouting in the back of his brain. “But I’m not worried.”

“Just be damn sure to get on that plane tomorrow, will you?”

Jack arrived at the restaurant. “Gotta run, Gerry. I’ll be in touch.”

“Text me when your butt’s in the seat, okay?”

“Got it. Ciao.”

“What?”

“See you soon.”

Jack hung up and searched for an open seat.

There weren’t any.

—

Jack waited for a few minutes, and found himself scanning the crowd more closely than he otherwise would. If that woman really was a hired hitter and she was dead, whoever paid her would send somebody else. But how would this syndicate know he was in Sarajevo?

The same way they knew he was in Ljubljana.

Yeah, these guys have resources. But like Gerry said, nothing was confirmed. And if they really were out there, they were as likely to come after him in the States as here. And he wasn’t one to hide.

Jack caught sight of a tall Muslim man in a traditional cotton tunic and pants pushing a stroller, followed closely by a woman dressed head to toe in black, only her eyes showing where theniqabbarely parted. They entered the restaurant directly.

A funny thought struck Jack. How does that woman eat in a restaurant? Does she slip thecevapisausage up underneath her robe? And what about spaghetti or a hamburger? Or does she expose her face when she eats in public?