The pit was opening beneath his feet. He had to stall. "I don't have access to that kind of information."

Sudden anger. "Bullshit, man! You set the system up yourself. I've done my homework, see?"

"You didn't study long enough. I've been suspended, as of ten o'clock this morning. They only let me in the office to retrieve some personal belongings."

"What the hell..."

A hand was clapped across the mouthpiece, muffling a heated conversation, and the man from Justice knew that he had scored. Whatever the apparent link between his dual calamities, the gunners who had snatched his family appeared to have been kept in ignorance. That could be good or bad, Brognola realized, depending on their boiling point and how he handled things from here on out.

Another moment, and the sullen voice was back, the tension evident in every spoken word. "You'd better not be shitting me, old man."

"I'm not about to play that kind of game with all I have to lose."

"I find out that you're jerking me, you're gonna have a triple funeral to arrange, and then we're coming after you."

"It's straight," Brognola told him. "If you don't believe me, check it out yourself."

"I just might do that."

There was a momentary silence while the gunner pondered fresh alternatives, another way to work his scam. When he resumed, his tone was thoughtful, introspective.

"What the hell, your problem, right? We want that information. It's your price for momma and the kids." Stall the bastard.

"It's extremely difficult ..."

"That's tough."

"...to get the list you want. If you could pin it down to one or two specific names..."

The names might offer him a starting place, a point of reference toward unveiling his opponents. If the opposition wanted a specific witness, he would have a fair idea of who had let the contract in the first place. Given that, he would possess a pressure point.