Morgan knew he was in trouble as soon as he started to climb to his feet.
"Hold it right there!" barked a voice.
The hazy figure of a man was pointing a gun at him.
"Okay - you can stand up - but no tricks."
Morgan cursed his own stupidity and sucked in a lungful of the damp river air, wondering if it would be his last. He studied the gunman carefully as his head cleared. Since he'd been hit from behind, this was his first live sight of the rogue FBI agent.
Close up, he was nothing like he had imagined. The blue denim trousers and black leather blouson gave a false impression of youth. In the grey light, he looked frail - a small man with a big chip on his shoulder and thinning, unkempt hair. If he hadn't known he was a ruthless killer, he might even have felt sorry for him.
"So you're Keller?"
"And you're Morgan. I've heard of you; you're the guy who captured Zabal Khan - right?"
"I was involved in his capture - yes."
"That's not the way I heard it. Too bad we won't have time to get to know each other better."
Morgan didn't like the sound of that and rapidly assessed his options. The gunman seemed relaxed, sure of himself and prepared to talk - but for how long? Maybe he could get some information out of him, just in case he survived the encounter. He decided to risk being provocative.
"Who's pulling your strings?" The jibe struck home.
"This is personal. Nobody tells me what to do."
"But since you were obviously expecting me, somebody must have tipped you off?"
Keller made no reply. Morgan stared back at the hostile eyes and decided to try another tack. "What's the point of all these killings? It won't bring your wife back."
"They're not killings, they're judicial executions."
"You mean you've appointed yourself judge and jury?"
"It's none of your business. Why did Henderson call in the British to do his dirty work, anyway?"
"My wife was killed in tragic circumstances, too. Like you, all I could think of was revenge against those responsible. Maybe they thought I might be able to work you out."
"What's to work out? It's all dead simple. The FBI killed Hanna; I kill their agents - an eye for an eye."
"You're way past that stage; you've murdered three people already. Don't you think it's time to stop? You can't run forever. They'll get you sooner or later."
"You didn't do so good, did you?"
"My mistake. We thought you were acting alone. Who's your informant? I'd like to know who's responsible if you're planning to kill me too."
"Maybe I won't. My beef isn't with you."
"Do you have a choice? You're obeying somebody's orders, aren't you?"
Keller stiffened. "Don't push it, Morgan. I told you, I'm my own man." He paused and seemed to be considering the options. "Maybe you're right. Maybe it's time to quit. Three out of four isn't bad and if McGuire spends the rest of his life looking over his shoulder, that might even be better than shooting him" He stared at Morgan, rapidly passing his gun from one hand to the other but never taking his eyes off his victim's face. "Suppose, you could be my ticket out of here. How much do you think you're worth - if I decided not to kill you?"
"Probably enough to get you out of this situation.Why don't you ask my boss - Commander Gow?"
"How would I do that?"
"I assume you have my communicator - as well as my gun?"
Keller's left hand emerged from his pocket, holding the instrument and Morgan felt the tension ease out of him. Although a stamp of his right foot would release a gas pellet, designed to instantly freeze his assailant's nervous system, he needed to be closer to the target to use it. He'd try that first, anyway. He inched his foot forward then halted abruptly when he heard the whine of the gun being activated.
"I warned you before, Morgan. Don't get clever with me."
A bright red and yellow river bus packed with commuters eagerly scanning the news-screens, glided swiftly past behind the gunman, totally unaware of the drama taking place in front of them. Morgan watched it disappear around a bend in the river.
Keller jerked his head at the communicator. "Gow you say? How do I contact him?"
"The red button puts you straight through," Morgan said, then hurled himself flat on the ground a split second before the explosion took the man's head off. "Straight through to Hell," he muttered, grimly.