When it came to Kanezaki, though, none of that mattered. What mattered was what might be negotiated on Labee’s behalf.
“If I take this thing,” Dox said, “it squares Livia’s debt with you?”
“I wouldn’t say squares, but—”
“Squares, son. That’s the deal. I save Ms. Diaz via less-than-lethal means, and Livia owes you nothing, not even a cup of coffee if you happen to be in town. You want it or not?”
There was a pause. Kanezaki, with his theatrical pauses. If things didn’t work out at CIA, he could always teach a course on negotiation.
“All right,” Kanezaki said. “Do this, and Livia and I are square.”
Dox spotted the loophole. “Not just square to date. Square forever. Even if she asks for your help again, with Guardian Angel or whatever.”
He was aware he was revealing too much, that Kanezaki would use it as leverage next time. But the damn rascal was already using how much he cared about Labee. And besides, the point wasn’t to protect himself. It was to protect her.
“Come on, Dox. I don’t know what she might ask of me in the future.”
“Neither do I, and I don’t care. Those are my terms.”
“Okay. But then next time she asks me to go out on a limb for her, what’s my incentive?”
Damn, he hadn’t thought of that. “All right. But whatever she might ask of you going forward, when it’s time to collect you come to me first, you son of a bitch.” Which of course Kanezaki was going to do anyway. After all, he’d just done it now.
“Deal,” Kanezaki said, probably with a suppressed smile. “Are you going to bring in Rain?”
Dox was glad they were done haggling. The truth was, he had certainly considered asking for John’s help. And it was funny, when they’d first met in Afghanistan, a lifetime earlier, they hadn’t gotten along well, at least not personally. Dox talked too much for John’s taste, though from Dox’s perspective, the problem was that John talked too damn little. But then they’d met again in Rio, where some government dumbasses thought they could get Dox to betray an old comrade in arms for money. They turned out to be wrong, in the dead-wrong sense of the word, and afterward, realizing he could trust someone had just about melted old John’s brain. But they’d had each other’s backs ever since, stumbled into a few adventures—sometimes with Kanezaki’s help, other times at his instigation—did a good deed or two, and somehow even managed to make a little money along the way by outsmarting a few bad guys.
“Nah,” Dox said after a moment. “He and Delilah deserve some peace. He’s always going on about how he’s retired. It’s high time someone acted like he means it.”
“Does he?”
“He thinks he does.”
“Then who?”
“My God, the calumny. Maybe I’ll just handle it all by my capable self, you ever consider that?”
“Come on, we both know less-than-lethal is likely to be more complicated. Who?”
“Sources and methods, son.”
Kanezaki laughed. “That’s my line. Let me guess. Daniel Larison.”
Larison had fallen in with them a few years back in connection with a series of false-flag terror attacks initiated by some of America’s most esteemed political personages. It hadn’t been a great fit initially, and in fact they’d all nearly killed each other before finding a way to work together. And now Larison was on the very short list of people Dox trusted to have his back. More amazing still, he knew, was that Larison felt the same way.
Dox smiled. “Not much I can hide from you, is there?”