Collision Read Free Page A

her hand clamped over her mouth as though repressing a scream.
    Jackie stepped close enough to see there was nothing he could do.
    Nicky was dead.
    Jackie’s throat closed on itself. He remembered to breathe. He turned away, stumbled down the ramp. The police would be here within moments. He fought every urge to go to his brother and fold him into his arms, swallowed the need to drop to his knees and cry.
    The big guy wasn’t dead.
    But, Jackie thought with a hot rage in his heart and tears crowding his eyes, he soon would be.

2
    “We’re in deep trouble,” Sam Hector said. “Ten-million-dollar contract choked this morning.”
    “I’m sorry, Sam,” Ben Forsberg said into his cell phone.
    “It’s a deal with the UK government to provide additional security for their embassies in four east African countries,” Hector said. “I can’t lose another big contract, Ben. I’ve sent you the details and I want you to go through the information tonight. All vacations must end.”
    “Sure.” Ben was close to home, the top up on his BMW because as he approached Austin the spring sky clouded with rain. He wished that Sam hadn’t called it a vacation . Ben no longer took vacations; he had alone time, away time. He’d only been away for six days. “I’m ready to go back to work.”
    “Thank God, because the deals are drying up,” Hector said. “I wish you would come back to work for me full-time. I need you.”
    “How’s the negotiation with the State Department coming?” Ben wasn’t interested in rehashing that conversation; he liked working freelance now and living in Austin. The Dallas office reminded him too much of Emily.
    “Another precarious situation. We’re in disagreement on five or six points. Undersecretary Smith is being intractable on the level of training that our security personnel have to have for the next Congo assignment while not wanting to pay a commensurate price. Which is bullshit. Congo is amazingly dangerous right now. They need us and she’s being obstinate, thinking she can handle it with regular government personnel.”
    “I’ll talk to her.” Ben didn’t expect the negotiations to be prolonged; the security situation in Congo was deteriorating, terrorism on the rise; the State Department personnel stationed there needed a greater level of protection, and a contract with the professional soldiers of Hector Global was the cheap and fast answer. Hector Global did several million dollars’ worth of business with the State Department each year, providing armed security for its employees; a new rising conflict in Congo was a tragedy, but an opportunity as well. Someone had to protect the diplomats, and no one could do a better job than Hector Global. “If the situation there deteriorates, it might help us close the deal—she’ll get scared.”
    “I like scared people because we’re in the business of making fear go away,” Hector said.
    “You still want to use that as a motto,” Ben laughed. “Fear is not a good slogan.”
    “Whatever. I also suspect she’s stalling so she can get you back up to Washington again.”
    Ben moved into another lane, headed north on MoPac, the major north-south artery for west Austin. He exited into the suburb of West Lake Hills so that he could take back roads home to central Austin; the infamously slow Austin traffic had already begun its daily dragging shuffle.
    “Ben? Did you hear me?”
    “Sam. Don’t kid, you know I’m not ready for—”
    “You cannot live in this bubble you’ve created for yourself.” Now Sam Hector sounded less like a client and more like a chiding father. “You just spent five days alone, Ben, at a resort known for catering to people twice your age. Emily would not want you isolating yourself.”
    Ben said nothing. He had found it best to endure this kind of advice in polite silence.
    “Ms. Smith has asked me about your interests, how often you come to Washington, what food you like to eat. As soon as our