Gibraltar Passage by T. Davis Bunn Read Free Book Online Page A

in grime that little light could enter, and the cafe had no other illumination. The patrons stood cloaked in shadows. Jake felt unseen eyes fasten upon him as he stepped through the doorway.
    Pierre moved up to the bar and gave a quiet salutation. The barkeeper responded with stony silence. As Jake’s eyes adjusted to the poor light, he saw a man slip through a back passage and disappear from sight. His mind shouted a warning.
    Pierre seemed utterly unaware of the silent hostility that gripped the room. He leaned against the bar, calmly pointed to a bottle behind the barkeeper’s head, and spoke with casual politeness. Jake sidled over to a spot next to the window, from which he could watch the whole room.
    The barkeeper lifted down a bottle and poured out a measure. His eyes did not leave Pierre’s face. Pierre lifted the glassand offered the blank-faced man a toast. Then he took a sip, set down the glass, and spoke a name.
    The silence was taut as a scream.
    Pierre took another sip. His hands were as steady as his gaze.
    â€œSo, the famous captain finally comes to see his brother’s old mate,” boomed a guttural voice from down the passage, “and brings an American officer to keep him company.”
    â€œMajor,” Pierre corrected, his eyes still on the barkeeper.
    â€œCaptain, major, what is a little more gold braid between friends?” A great mountain of a man appeared in the hallway. He was not simply tall. He was huge in every way. A vast frame was covered in so many layers of fat that he had to turn sideways in order to pass through the doorway. “It is not often that an officer of the law dares enters these portals. Not even one who has a great American hero to guard the exit.”
    â€œColonel Jake Burnes,” Pierre murmured, remaining where he was. “May I introduce Abdul Hassad, smuggler king.”
    â€œYes, one who needs no ribbons to gain the fear and respect of his fellowman.” The man lumbered across the room to stand alongside Pierre. “By Mohammed’s beard, if you did not wear the uniform, I would swear I stood before your brother.”
    â€œThe same brother who brings me here,” Pierre replied.
    A slight thrill of movement coursed through the room. Jake watched the room and wished for a gun, a platoon, and another pair of eyes. The huge man’s gaze narrowed slightly. “You have news?”
    â€œRumors only,” Pierre replied. “But enough to want to know what you know.”
    â€œWhat I know,” Abdul Hassad rumbled. Despite the room’s closeness, he wore a voluminous navy duffle coat over shapeless trousers and boots so large that one would have held both of Jake’s feet with room to spare. “As you say, rumors only.”
    â€œI hear that you know something more,” Pierre said.
    â€œYou hear?” The deep chuckle carried no mirth. “Then whoever speaks of my affairs has seen his last sunrise.”
    â€œTell me what you know,” Pierre said, his voice stony cold.
    Dark eyes flickered in the barkeeper’s direction, then returned to Pierre. “What I know is yours, Major Servais. For a price.”
    With subtle ease the barkeeper flicked the towel off his shoulder and began polishing the bar. His other hand drifted down below the counter. Instantly Jake vaulted over the bar and locked one arm about the barkeeper’s neck while he seized the unseen hand in an iron grip. The man struggled, but his strength was no match for Jake’s. Tables and chairs crashed as men about the room leapt to their feet. Jake squeezed until the man yelped in pain, then wrenched the man’s hand out and up, revealing a revolver which was now pointed directly at Abdul Hassad’s massive chest.
    The huge man barked out a command, and the room froze. Dark eyes held Jake with a baleful glare, and watched as Jake forced the gun out of the barkeeper’s grasp and into his own.
    Pierre had not