The Protector

5

"What do you think of him?" Duncan asked after he and Cavanaugh watched Prescott enter his room. Letting Chad and Tracy go ahead with their various duties, the two men crossed the living room toward a door to the right of the fireplace; it led to an office.

"He doesn't have much of a personality, but he's an ideal client," Cavanaugh said. "He did exactly what I told him. He's overweight and out of shape, but he sucked it up and did what was necessary. Sure, he almost lost his lunch from being afraid, but he trusted me and never panicked to the point of losing control. Everything considered, he kind of impressed me."

"Anything else?"

"He's smart."

"Of course. He's a biochemist."

"Likes to learn. Asks a lot of questions."

"My arrangement with him was via telephone and an electronic transfer of funds," Duncan said. "He insisted that he couldn't meet me in person."

"Now we know why." Cavanaugh paused at the entrance to the offices as Duncan went in.

"Why didn't he tell me on the phone what his problem is?" Duncan eased his tall, slender frame into an Aeron chair behind a desk.

"Maybe he didn't know if he could trust us," Cavanaugh said. "He wanted to wait until he assessed one of us face-to-face."

Duncan thought about it. "But he trusted us enough to tell us where he was hiding. That isn't consistent."

"Not necessarily. Since he couldn't come to us, he didn't have a choice about letting one of us come to him," Cavanaugh said. "Besides, at the warehouse, he used TV cameras to study me. If anything looked suspicious, all he had to do was shut down communications, and I still wouldn't have known where he was."

"Do you think he understands what it truly means to disappear? Is he prepared to accept the consequences?"

"He's got plenty of incentive," Cavanaugh said. "As one of his attackers told me on a cell phone, they'll keep coming. In fact, I'm sort of the quarry now, too."

"Oh?"

"The man on the phone almost made it personal between him and me."

Duncan thought another moment and picked up a phone. "I'll speak to my contacts at the DEA and get more details about Prescott's situation."

"While you're making your calls…"

"Yes?"

"At the warehouse, some homeless people helped Prescott and me get away. I promised them a truck of food and clothes would be delivered there tomorrow. Maybe some sleeping bags."

Duncan smiled. "I'll make it like the Ritz."