“We are not most employers,” she said, again flashing that thousand-watt smile. “We are a concierge service that provides top talent to customers who need the very best. And I do mean the best. That is not sales hype, gentlemen. It’s a point of fact. To keep you here at this facility would be a waste of your time and ours.”

“Wait … are you firing us?” asked Bunny.

“Just the opposite. I want to transfer you boys to a different training camp. A place where we work with upper-tier operators like yourselves.”

“This some kind of scam?” asked Top.

“No,” she said, “it’s really not. In fact, I’d like to put you both on a plane this afternoon.”

“To where?” asked Top.

“To meet who?” asked Bunny.

“Where isn’t important. You both have passports? Good. You may need them. As for who … well, let’s just say it’s someone very special.”

CHAPTER 50

IN FLIGHT OVER THE IONIAN SEA

Toys sat on a leather bench seat behind an oak table as the private jet punched through the skies toward Italy.

He had a MindReader Q1 laptop open and was sipping a very good Bloody Mary while reviewing data that Church told him was “eyes only.”

“You’ll have access to the information Bug has been compiling,” Church had told him before the flight. “We have people in the field already looking for Ledger. Violin is out there, along with others from Arklight. And a few of my old friends are keeping their eyes and ears open. Their reports are in the material I’m sharing with you.”

“Have to say,” Toys had told him while they were on the tarmac behind Phoenix House, “I’m surprised you agreed to letting me do this.”

Church had studied him for a long three count before saying, “You’ve had plenty of opportunities to betray my trust. You haven’t. You’ve had opportunities to refuse some of the wet work jobs I’ve sent your way. You did not.”

“What’s that make me? A well-trained spaniel?”

“No,” said Church, offering his hand, “it means that you’re part of the family.”

They shook hands, and Toys had turned away quickly, nearly running to the plane because he absolutely did not want Church to see his expression. To see the shock. To see the tears.

Now he was on his way.

Toys was impressed by how much data had been collected, and he was already seeing some patterns emerge. And it was a rather ugly pattern. Ledger was moving like a plague through the technologies and weapons black markets. Not counting the slaughter in Croatia, Bug estimated that the body count was somewhere around forty.

“Well, mate,” he said to the photo of Joe Ledger on his screen, “you’re throwing a wobbly and no mistake. Bloody hell.”