THE BRIDGE TO CARACAS (Volume 1 of The King Trilogy)

CHAPTER 49

After sitting silently in Servito's Corvette for almost thirty minutes, Allison's curiosity got the better of him. "What's this big meeting all about?" he asked.

Servito flashed an evil smile. "Like I told you before—when you close up shop, you have to let your employees go."

"Jim, you can't tell me it's necessary to go all the way to Fort Erie at night just to fire some employees. Level with me. What are we really going to do?"

"Get rid of some loose ends. There are three of them, and they're all going to be at the meeting."

"Who?"

"Lasker, Bushing, and Langston. They all know too much."

Allison swallowed dryly. "You going to do them, too?"

"Yup."

"Jesus! Why the hell do you need to do this if we're gonna disappear to Venezuela?"

"Because I want my wife and King to fry in hell—I want to make sure there's nobody around to clear them when I'm gone."

"So how are you gonna do it?"

"You see the red blanket on the back seat?"

Allison turned and glanced at the blanket. He nodded. "There's a briefcase under it. It's packed with enough dynamite and gasoline to solve our problem. It's also rigged with a timer. Just before we go in, I'm going to set the timer for eleven-fifteen. I'm going to take the briefcase with me and set it under the table. At five after eleven, I want you to stand up and say you forgot to phone the office, and that you'll do it from the secretary's phone. At ten after eleven, I want you to run back into Lasker's office and tell me there's an urgent call from my wife. Say it's about my son. Tell me he's been hurt bad. Then we'll both leave." Servito grinned. "The meeting will end with a bang."

Allison rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Isn't that a little extreme?"

Servito pounded his fist on the steering wheel and glared at Allison. "Fucking right it's extreme. You gotta be extreme if you wanna live happily ever after in paradise. If we don't waste these guys before we go, pretty soon the feds are gonna be all over them like a tent. Sure as hell at least one of them is gonna start singing. Now we don't want that to happen, do we?"

Allison shrugged his shoulders in resignation. "What about Martin and Sadowski and Sarnos? You gonna let them go too?"

Servito chuckled. "Lanotti did Sadowski and Sarnos last night and Martin's already on ice."

Servito's Corvette raced past the opened gate of the chain-link fence surrounding the property of Amerada Tank Lines and skidded to a stop at the Amerada head office. He reached for his briefcase, set the timer for 11:15 p.m., and then turned to Allison. "Don't screw up, Jerry," he warned. "We have got to be out of there and at least a hundred yards away when this thing blows."

Servito immediately took control when he and Allison entered Lasker's inner office. He exuded charm while shaking hands with Bushing and Lasker, and then grabbed Allison's arm and pulled him in Langston's direction. "Earle, I don't think you've met Jerry Allison. Jerry's a business associate of mine."

Langston, forcing a smile, extended his frail hand. "Nice to meet you."

"My pleasure," Allison said with a squeamish smile.

"Gentlemen, we'll start as soon as everyone's seated," Servito announced, pointing to the large wooden table in the center of the office. He sat as close as possible to his three intended victims, and then shoved his briefcase as far as he could in front of his feet. Quickly glancing around the room, he saw that it was small and cramped, just as he had remembered. He looked at his watch. It was 11:04 p.m.