Merry Christmas, Alex Cross

CHAPTER 80

Omar Nazad found antibiotic cream and bandages in the freight train’s first-aid kit. And he’d eaten a few of those pills Hala had insisted they all carry, so his face and blinded eye throbbed less.

In fact, the Tunisian felt like he was on top of things once more, doing Allah’s work, as he sat astride the train engineer, pinning the man’s back and shoulders to the floor of the cab. Aman was on the floor as well, bracing Tony’s head between his knees and pressing his gun to the engineer’s temple.

From the floor, the Tunisian picked up a cup of coffee. It was fresh and scalding hot; he’d just taken it out of the microwave at the back of the cab. He held it with his right hand, feeling warm and fuzzy as he reached toward the engineer’s horrified face.

“No! What are you doing?” Tony yelled.

Nazad smiled. “What’s that saying from your Old Testament? An eye for an eye?”

“No! Please!” Tony screamed as the Tunisian pried up his right eyelid.

“It’s either this or death, infidel,” Nazad said, and he poured the boiling-hot coffee onto the engineer’s eye, saw it turn gray and then milky as Tony went insane, bucking and screeching out pleas to God and his mother.

Now the Tunisian felt better about losing his sight in one eye, and he got up off the engineer. Tony rolled around, hands covering the wounded eye.

“He needs a hospital,” said Pete, the other engineer, who’d watched in shock. “And so do you.”

“I need only God’s blessing,” Nazad snarled. “You take him to the hospital when you finish your trip.”

“What?” Pete said.

“What is your destination?” the Tunisian asked.

“New Jersey. Freight yard on the west side of the Hudson.”

“When you get there, you may take your friend to the hospital,” Nazad said, and then he looked at Aman.

In Arabic, he said, “This is your destiny, brother. You will stay on the train until you reach New Jersey, and then make your escape. Go to the Syracuse house.”

Upset, the Turk said, “But that’s not the plan. I won’t be there to see the blow struck.”

“And I lose an eye to see the blow struck,” Nazad snapped. “These things are the will of God, brother. The will of God.”