The Impaler

Chapter 77

It was almost eight o’clock when the black SUV pulled into a spot in front of Sam Markham’s apartment building. The General recognized it as the same make and model as Andrew J. Schaap’s, but only when it came to a complete stop and the driver emerged was he sure it belonged to Sam Markham.

The General recognized him immediately—thought he looked shorter in person than in his picture, and felt a surge of excitement at the thought of what he and the Prince had in store for him.

In this Sam Markham they had found the ultimate soldier. Someone who feared the Prince as much as those who had worshipped him in the old days. Someone who understood the inevitability of the Prince’s return almost as much as the General himself. And surely this Markham was a gift of destiny; surely his delivery to the Prince via the randomness of the FBI agent’s lists was no accident. It was almost too good to be true; and the thought of the power the Prince would draw from this man’s service made his doorway tingle beneath the bandages.

Yes, the wound between the 9 and the 3 was already healing up nicely.

The General followed Markham with his binoculars until he disappeared into the apartment building. It had grown darker, but the General would wait a while longer. He lowered the binoculars and gazed down at Andrew J. Schaap’s BlackBerry. At that moment, his own cell phone began ringing on the seat beside him. He picked it up and read the name on the screen: Cindy Smith.

The General answered as Edmund Lambert. “Hi, Cindy.”

“Hi, Edmund. How’s your aunt doing?”

“Fine. Still a bit shaken up, but she’s sleeping now. My uncle is here, too, so I’ll be taking off shortly.”

“That’s good news.”

“Yes, it is. Any word on Bradley?”

“No,” Cindy said. “No one’s heard from him all day. Looks like he just bolted after last night’s show—car is gone and everything. I hope he’s okay.”

“I hope so, too,” Edmund said. “Did the show and the photo call go well?”

“Yes, but it was weird playing opposite George Kiernan. The show ended up being pretty good, actually. We even got a standing ovation, but the whole thing seems like a dream. Everything, I mean—the show, me and you, what happened the other night. You think we can talk about it?”

“Of course. How about I give you call when I get settled back at the house?”

“That’d be awesome, yeah.”

“But it might be late, okay? I still have some things I need to do.”

“Okay. Talk to you later.”

“Yes, you will. Good-bye, Cindy.”

Edmund picked up the BlackBerry and held it up next to his cell phone—stroked each of them with his thumbs and smiled. He was the General again.

“Sam Markham has no idea his partner is even missing,” he said. “If he did, Ereshkigal would have told us.”