“We figure it’s time to go and get some food,” Flame smiled. “But first…” He held up a belt holster. “Try this on.”

  Dana took the lightweight bit of leather in her hand. “Where does it go?”

  “Slip your belt through the loop, put it where you can conceal it with a jacket or open blouse.”

  Dana did as he directed, finally deciding that it was best right at the small of her back.

  “That looks fine,” Flame held out the little Smith & Wesson. “Now put this in it.”

  Dana saw the twinkle in her partner’s eyes as he handed her the pistol. This is a test, she realized. One I think I can pass easily enough…

  She popped the magazine out of the weapon, pulled the slide back…

  “I think you told me that, in your terms, an empty pistol ‘ain’t worth shit.’” She looked into Flame’s eyes. “Did I misunderstand?”

  “Nope.” The big man smiled and produced another magazine—this one fully loaded. “Try this on for size.”

  Dana tapped the new magazine against the counter hand to make sure the bullets were properly seated, then slipped the new magazine into the pistol, clicked the grip safety to ‘ON’ and jacked a round into the chamber. Satisfied, she slipped the weapon into her new holster, testing the feel of it.

  It’s good, she nodded to herself. I can reach it with no problems and it should be easy to conceal. She looked at Flame. “Time for dinner?”

  “One last thing.” Bremby produced a soft-looking leather handbag. “This is a Coronado Leather Hollister Soft Hobo conceal carry purse,” he smiled. “Big name, I know—but it will let you carry your pistol when you can’t conceal a holster.” He opened a hard-to-see pouch at the front. “It goes in here—safe and easy to access.”

  “This looks expensive.” Dana took the purse from him, checking out the assortment of zipper openings and pouches it offered. “I don’t know…”

  “It’s on the house.” Bremby put his arm on Flame’s shoulder. “I owe this man way more than that.” He smiled at Dana. “Carry it in good health—and watch my man’s back.”

  “I will.” Dana smiled and touched Bremby on the arm. “I promise I will.” Her smile widened. “Now can we go to dinner? I’m hungry!”

  The two men laughed and headed for the door.

  -19-

  Dr. Farber shivered as he locked his office door. He knew he’d done the right thing in alerting the federal police to Mapache’s request but, as someone who’d lived in Monterrey for many years, knew that it was possible the evil-looking man would be able to buy his way out of custody.

  And if he did…

  I’ve got to get out of here, Farber told himself. Get across the border. Stay with my cousins, while Karin looks into this thing. She’ll be able to tell me what is best for me to do!

  He had parked his car away from his usual spot, afraid to advertise the fact that he was still in the hospital. Now he hurried through the front door passing a dozing security guard. Kurt and Shirley are expecting me tonight. He touched the remote device on his keychain, and heard the chirping sound that accompanied the unlocking of the car doors. I only have to cross the border and I will be safe. He climbed into the car; inserted his key. An hour at most—then I can rest…

  Nearly a pound of C-4, concealed under his seat, detonated as his key completed a circuit.

  They didn’t find a piece of him big enough to bury.

  ***

  Two days later, just after midday, Flame and Dana were in the International Arrivals Terminal at Kennedy Airport. They had been met by a State Department official who had come to help the girl through customs—and to brief them on the proper way to handle their assignment.

  Flame ignored him, as did Dana—although she managed to look interested in whatever the man said.

  Smart girl, he nodded to himself. Let him talk himself out—he does his job and we don’t have to deal with any of his oh-so-correct superiors.

  Flame knew it really didn’t matter what the man had to say. He and Dana were going to handle this their way. All he has to do is get the girl through customs,he glanced at the flight information board. And we can all be on our way.

  The girl had avoided Cairo airport, fearing she’d be recognized there. Instead, she’d made her way to Alexandria International and flown from there via Turkish Airlines to London, where she caught a British Airways flight to JFK.

  That flight had touched down a few minutes earlier.

  Flame nudged Dana and nodded toward the board. “Flight’s here.”

  “Is it?” Their State Department contact turned his attention to the monitor. “Well then…” He squared his shoulders—which, in his case, made them sort of triangular—and marched toward the door into customs, his ID and paperwork in hand. “I’ll have her out to you in a jiffy,” he told them over his shoulder.

  “Did he say anything important?” Flame asked, his eyes scanning the faces around him for any that appeared suspicious.

  As this was New York, many of them looked quite suspicious indeed!

  “Nothing we didn’t know.” Dana shook her head and pulled out her tablet—she wanted to see if there was any chatter on the local server that might point to trouble. “He has an itinerary for the girl—he’ll hand it over when he hands her over.”

  Flame nodded—and settled down to wait. Even with a flunkie from State to grease the skids, customs and immigration was going to take a while.

  It did. Nearly thirty minutes passed before Samira Potros came up the ramp with the flunkie from State trotting along beside her.

  Is that her? Flame couldn’t help but stare at his new charge. She was not at all what he’d been expecting.

  Samira Potros was young—perhaps twenty years of age. She was short—two inches shorter than Dana who was barely five three. And she was beautiful in a classical Egyptian way, with a long, graceful neck, strong features and a lean body that promised much. Flame thought she walked like a wild animal, pacing forward with a grace that few could match.

  “She’s going to be a handful,” Dana whispered into Flame’s ears. “The newspapers are going to go crazy when they see her.”

  State had kept her date and place of arrival secret. The press would be expecting her to arrive just before the UN Conference, which started in three days. She had flown in early to avoid publicity.

  “You go get her,” Flame scanned the crowd. “I’ll fall in behind and keep an eye on things—see if I can spot any watchers.”

  “Right.” Dana stepped forward. “Meet you at the cab stand.”

  Ten minutes later they were in a cab and en route to the Barbizon Plaza Hotel. Flame had told the driver to take the Belt Parkway rather than head for the Long Island Expressway—the traffic would be lighter and he would have a choice of ways to cross into Manhattan.

  Samira seemed enchanted by the whole trip. She marveled at the packed apartment buildings and houses of Brooklyn and gasped aloud when the towers of New York City came into view.

  Her excitement convinced Flame to instruct the driver to go over the Brooklyn Bridge—it gave her an excellent view of the city and a glimpse of the Statue of Liberty, which she stared at until it was obscured by the bridge supports.

  Once they had reached the other side, they headed up Third Avenue and followed it all the way to 58th Street where they turned west heading for the south side of Central Park and their hotel.

  “The traffic here is not as heavy as Cairo,” the girl told Dana. “And it is far more orderly.”

  “You should see it at six in the evening,” Flame put in over his shoulder. “It’s much heavier then!”

  “Do not all the people take the underground train?”

  “Some do.” Flame shrugged and watched the cabbie hit the horn to dissuade a pedestrian from crossing in front of him. “Many do not.”

  “May I take a ride on the train?”

  “Sure,” he said as they avoided a second taxi, which tried to pass on the inside. “We’ll talk about your itinerary when we get to the hotel.”

  “I want to see so many things!” She pressed her nose against the tinted glass of the back window. “The Central Park, the Empire State Building…”

  “Make a list.” Flame could see the hotel a block ahead. “And we’ll discuss it at lunch—after you get a little rest.”

  “I could not sleep now!” She turned to Dana. “There is so much to do! And I have not much time.”

  Flame saw his partner’s face, frozen in a smile, in his rearview mirror. Dana’s right, he thought. This one really is going to be a handful!

  He thought about how they were going to handle that as they cut off another car and turned into the entrance to the hotel.

  ***

  I wish she had gone to sleep, Dana told herself as she accompanied Samira to the first place she ‘could not wait’ to see. I could use the rest.

  Although she had lost sight of him, Dana knew that Flame was somewhere nearby, eyes on the crowd, ready to move if he saw anyone suspicious. I wish I knew how he disappeared so easily. She smiled. He’s taller than everyone here and has that mop of red hair yet—she glanced over the crowded street—I can’t see him!

  They had walked to Fifth Avenue and then right toward Times Square. Samira stared at the goods in the various shop windows as they went, eyes widening at the opulence that was everywhere.

  “Is the whole country like this?” she asked. “Are all Americans so rich?”

  “Most wish they were,” Dana smiled gently. “But few can afford to shop on this street.”

  “So only the rich live in New York—much like the best parts of Cairo.”

  “Not like Cairo—the rich and the middle class both live in this city, often on the same block.” They stopped as a light turned red. “These are the high priced shops,” she smiled. “They sell mostly to tourists from other parts of the country and other lands.” Dana shrugged. “Later, if you want, I’ll show you the quiet parts of the city where everyone else shops.”

  “That would be wonderful.” Samira smiled. “But can we go back to Central Park now?”

  “It’s back near our hotel.”

  “I want to see the ‘Strawberry Fields.’”

  “It’s a bit of a hike.”

  “I like to walk.”

  Dana sighed—and crossed the street with her charge, reversing direction. Strawberry Fields was, after all, only twenty or twenty-five blocks uptown…

  ***

  Flame was not as good at camouflaging himself as Dana thought. He had followed her out of the hotel and down the street all the way to Fifth Avenue. At that point he realized that someone was following him.

  That woman. He glanced at a window where he saw a distorted and very dirty reflection of the tall and athletic figure behind him. She’s been back there since I left the hotel. It seemed impossible that anyone could have found out about Samira so quickly, but... The State Department is involved in this, he told himself. Lots of Arab lovers there—any of them could have leaked the girl’s info…

  Flame shook his head. I’ll worry about the leak later. For now, he saw Dana turn downtown and came up with a quick plan. When he reached the corner of Fifth Avenue, he turned the opposite way—uptown toward the park—and began looking for a spot where he could find out just what the woman following him had in mind…

  That spot appeared soon enough. There was construction being done on what he remembered as FAO Schwartz, the famous New York toy shop. The builders had erected a tunnel-like structure to protect pedestrians from falling debris.

  Flame headed for that structure.

  Once inside and out of sight, he hurried to the far end and flattened himself against the building just beyond. The edges of the structure prevented anyone inside from seeing him until they were nearly at his side.

  Flame waited.

  Finally, he saw the dim form of the woman who’d been following him rush through the tunnel and stop just outside, eyes searching the crowd for…

  “Flame!” Karin Hachtel started when the big man’s hand closed on her shoulders. “I thought it was you!”

  “Why are you following me, Karin?” Flame led her away from the crowd. “And how did you find out I was here?”

  “I saw you in the hotel.” Her eyes sought his as she bit her lower lip. “I…I need your help.”

  “Again?” Flame had dealt with the media once or twice before. It had never ended well.

  “Not that kind of help.” She looked around. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

  “Not now.” Flame considered the situation. “There’s something I’m supposed to be doing right now.” He looked into Karin’s eyes. “You say you saw me at the hotel?”

  She nodded.

  “Meet me in the lobby at,” he glanced at his watch, “ten tonight—I’ll listen to you then.”

  “But…”

  “No buts.” He shook his head. “Ten o’clock.” He started to turn away, then thought better of it and looked at her once again. “And don’t follow me. Understand?”

  Karin shook her head, troubled.

  “See you later.” Flame turned away and headed uptown, moving fast. He had to find Dana quickly—he’d been distracted long enough.

  ***

  Dana was surprised to get a text from Flame asking where she was. She’d assumed he was somewhere nearby—keeping an eye on their ward. Something must have distracted him, she thought. I hope it wasn’t a hallucination!

  Samira had been surprised by all the tall buildings that bordered Central Park.

  “It’s so green!” She’d marveled. “Right in the middle of this huge city and it’s still green!”

  Dana told her it had been by design—that the men who built New York City planned for this oasis of green to give city dwellers a place of comfort. I don’t know if that’s true or not, Dana thought to herself. But it’s a nice story and it seems to make her happy.

  They had stopped near the Alice statue and taken a quick look at the Central Park Zoo before reaching Strawberry Fields. There, Dana stopped to meet with Flame while Samira walked around and checked out the sights of the wide meadow.

  “What held you up?” she asked as the big redhead approached.

  “Met a former client.” Flame’s eyes sought out Samira—found her standing a few feet from a vendor’s cart, chatting with a man smoking a cigarette. “Remember Karin—the German reporter?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, she’s staying at our hotel—saw me there.” Flame’s mouth went taut. “She followed me down the street from the hotel. Took me about a block to notice the tail.”

  “Not a surprise with all the people on the street.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.” Flame shook his head. “Anyway, I led her away from you and the girl then braced her a few blocks away.” His eyes narrowed as he saw the man Samira was with gesture energetically. “Any idea who that is?”

  Dana followed his gaze. “Haven’t seen him before.” She shifted her attention to Samira. “She doesn’t seem to be bothered. Think we should check him out?”

  “I’ll keep an eye on him,” Flame spared her a quick look. “We don’t want to spook the girl, do we?”

  “No.” Dana shook her head. “But just to be safe, try to find out who he is when she leaves.”

  “Will do.”

  “Now, about our German friend…”

  “Says she has a problem—one that she needs help with.” Flame shrugged. “I told her I was busy right now but that I’d meet up with her at ten in the hotel lobby.”

  “Want me to come along?”

  “No,” Flame shook his head. “I’ll let you know if we need to get…” He smiled. “Professionally involved.”

  “Okay by me.” Dana’s eyes went back to the girl. “I’m going to want to take a long shower when I’m done—I’m not used to all this walking!”

  Flame smiled. “You could always take the train.” He nodded to the side. “The girl’s coming back this way—you go with her, I’ll see if I can catch up with her friend.” The smoking man had left the vendor’s area and was heading down a trail toward the west end of the park. “Where are you heading next?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Text me when you do—I’ll catch up.” He headed out in the same direction as the smoking man, smiling at Samira as he passed her.

  -20-

  I guess I’ve lost him, Flame thought a few minutes later as he looked across the busy traffic on Central Park West. He could be anywhere by now. He watched the endless ribbon of car’s taillights on the street in front of him. I’d better get back to where I can watch the girl. He pivoted and moved back into the park, hurrying to catch up to his charge.

  Wait a minute. He slowed as he reached Strawberry Fields. That guy was talking to Samira alongside a vendor’s cart; he looked at the handful of carts on one side of the road. Maybe someone there heard what they were talking about. He shrugged. It’s worth a try…

  “That man was smoking!”

  Flame had used a ten-dollar bill to loosen the man up. I should have kept it to a single, he thought as the man went on, voice rising with outrage.

  “I told him ‘Smoking is illegal in New York!’ and do you know what he did?” The man’s face had gone red with outrage. “He blew smoke in my face and told me to shut up—he tells me to shut up! In front of my own spot!”

  “Did you hear what he said to the girl?”

  “I heard what he said—but I didn’t understand a word of it,” the man shrugged. “They weren’t speaking in English or Spanish or any of the other languages we normally get here.” He looked at Flame. “Arabic, maybe, sounded something like that anyway.”

  “Thank you for your help, sir.” Flame passed the man another ten. “I do appreciate it.”

  She was speaking to that man in Arabic. Flame thought about that. Maybe she just heard him say something in that language—he could have been on a phone or something. She might miss conversing in her own language—it was tough to try to speak to others in a foreign tongue, Flame knew that all too well. But other things were also possible—more sinister things.