Martin regarded the weapon. "I think Barclay won't see what's coming until it hits him."

"Allah forbid," Qurban said darkly.

"God forbid," Martin agreed, though he didn't believe in God, and a small, selfish part of him wished he could just put a bullet in Barclay and be done with it. Sooner rather than later.

"The respectable man said you should give it a name," Qurban said. "Something cool."

Martin studied the gun in his hand. He grinned. "How about Tansy?"

The agent gave him a look. "Is that an Americanism?"

5

Enough for a Sequel

HIS PHONE BUZZED on the way across the Queensboro Bridge. Unknown Caller. He debated not picking it up. On the third ring, he slid the green icon.

"Savage."

"Heyyyyy, sexy. Guess where I am?"

Martin glanced at the screen. Tish was there, twiddling her fingers at him, the camera holding her in close-up. Her hair was pulled up, with short ringlets hanging down in front of her ears. Above the ankh necklace, she'd tied shiny green fabric around her throat in a bow.

"I'm on the road, Tish. I don't have time for games."

"You'll like this one. Look."

She turned the phone around. In quick-pan, he saw his kitchenette, his living room, his television and artwork, the living room windows with the darkening East River beyond.

"How the fuck did you get in my house?"

The phone spun back, taking a split second to focus on her wide smile. "Oops. I kinda borrowed your keycard. Was that wrong?"

She stretched out her arm, pointing the phone at her black lace cupless bra, nipples hard and poised above it, a garter belt and black stockings, her long, tanned legs and black high heels. He couldn't help but stare as she slid her right hand over her stomach and down into her panties.

She brought the phone back up, licking her upper lip, walking through his condo now, heels clicking down the hall toward the bedroom. "Get home quick, Martin. I've been a bad, bad girl. I need to be punished."

She stood in his bedroom, the closet behind her. He regretted having removed the mirrors. Already stiffening inside his jeans, he would have appreciated getting a look at that thong in her reflection.

A familiar squeak alerted him—the sound of the small wheels on his closet door. It began to roll slowly open behind her, revealing the darkness within.

Someone was in the apartment with her.

A car honked behind him. Martin stepped on the accelerator, closing the gap, and returned his attention to the screen.

She turned, the phone remaining on her face. Her eyes had widened in surprise. Not in fear but excitement.

"Have you been hiding there the whole time, you naughty boy?"

"Tish, I need you to get out of there right now. Go to the front desk and tell the guard—"

Her lips rose in a wicked grin. Something tinkled, like the sound of a chandelier. "Hey, now. When did you get so kinky?"