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Synopsis
Business is war.
And Luke Tanner is about to be its latest casualty. He's overheard
men conspiring to gain control of a $1 billion piece of business
by using a unique strategy - the murder of the two CEO's who control
it.
The conspirators discover that Luke has overheard
them and try to kill him. But he gets away. To silence him, they
kidnap his girlfriend, pediatrician Dr. Jenna Johannson.
When the kidnappers try to kill them,
Luke and Jenna manage to escape, only to discover that the $1
billion business - a massive worldwide automotive advertising
account - is his. Luke also discovers that it's too late to save
the lives of his CEO and client - because at that very moment,
the two men are in the Yucatan Peninsula, unreachable by phone
and about to walk into the assassins' trap.
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Luke saw Herb, the ancient waiter,
working tables nearby, start to walk toward him, coming to warm
up his coffee. Luke tried to wave him off, but as usual the old
man's eyes were drilled to the floor. Herb's fog-horn voice would
boom over the alcove wall and let the men know Luke had overheard
them.
Luke looked down, pretending to concentrate on the script, praying
Herb would go away. But Herb's feet clomped closer and stopped.
"Care for something?"
Luke looked up, then realized Herb was on the other side of the
abutment.
"No," the American said. "My friends and I are
leaving."
Luke exhaled like a slow leak. He heard chairs scraping, the men
walking away. If they turned right, they'd see him, know he knew.
He pretended to write, white-knuckling his pen. The footsteps
faded left, the way they'd come, along the balcony. Luke had to
see them. He stood, peered around the abutment and saw two short,
dark-skinned men wearing blue-black windbreakers and walking with
a tall, blond, bearded man in a grey suit. They vanished into
an elevator heading up.
Luke sat back down and stared at the floor. Incredible. He'd just
overheard men plan the murder of two businessmen connected to
an advertising account, two men called the Siamese Twins. He couldn't
recall anyone in the business referred to as Siamese Twins. Which
meant he had to phone his pal, Hank Redstone, a lieutenant with
the Detroit Police. Hank's people would somehow have to identify
the two men in an industry which employed hundreds of thousands--and
warn them before Sunday.
Today was Wednesday.
And the police had nothing to go on. No personal names. No company
names. No clues. Unless, Luke wondered, the men left something
on their table. A cup with fingerprints. A matchbook. A crumpled
note...
* * *
Two levels above him, the three men stepped off the elevator and
walked along the balcony, circling behind the alcove tables below.
Mason Bennett was pleased. Despite the Mexican's absurd request
for a larger fee, things were progressing exactly as planned.
And they would. Bennett wasn't about to fail on this assignment.
He had a reputation to maintain. He delivered. The Siamese Twins
would suffer a most unfortunate snakebite accident and die in
the jungle, which would make him a wealthy man. And he had a secret
plan to make this assignment--his most lucrative ever--even more
lucrative.
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