Exit Strategy

“Your witness?”

She was looking at him like he was an idiot. A twenty-year veteran, and he was gaping at a source like a rookie. He slapped down his mug hard enough to slosh coffee over the edge.

“Where’s my contact? If this is someone’s idea of a joke-”

“It’s someone’s idea of covering your ass, Dubois. You’re a public figure, in a public place…talking to a nice old lady. Probably calming her fears about this big bad killer. Even your boy in the corner is still busy watching the door for whomever you’re supposed to be meeting.”

He shifted in his seat. He had to take the upper hand-or at least find it.

“So who do you represent? I need to know who I’m-”

“A group of publicly minded individuals who’ve been chasing this madman for you. Protecting their…business interests.”

“What kind of business-?”

“What kind of business do you think your boy is in?”

“Who knows? Bunch of experts swear he’s-” Dubois stopped. “A professional kil-”

“Smart experts. And if he was a member of said profession, there would likely be other members of said profession more than a little a

“So who the hell are you?”

She smiled. “Their fairy godmother…and I just might be yours, too. Let me order a coffee and run a little business proposition past you.”

“So that’s it,” she said as she finished.

“And I somehow do all this without involving my team or my supervisors? This is the FBI, lady. I can’t wipe my ass without filling out a triplicate requisition for new toilet paper.”

She shrugged. “If it can’t be done, then we’ll find another way. Lure him in ourselves, take him down and notify the papers, telling them where to find the body-”

“Let me think about it.”

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something. No one said it would be easy, but the reward…” Another shrug. “Worth the cost, I’d say. If you need to involve someone else, one other person from your team, we understand that. Share the risk and share the glory-your decision.”

“You still haven’t told me the price. No, wait, let me guess. Prisoners. You want me to release some of your buddies we picked up while looking for this guy. Don’t bother asking, because I don’t have the kind of authority-”

“Keep them. If they’ve fucked up enough to get caught, that’s not our concern.”

He leaned back in his chair and studied her. “If it’s not prisoners, it must be amnesty. Your guys want a few ‘get out of jail free’ cards. Some old cases closed-”

“My boys don’t need free passes. Any cases you have on them have been shelved for lack of evidence and lack of interest. Let me save us both some time. We want one thing: this guy’s name removed from our ranks. Once he’s yours, he was never one of ours.”

He thought about that for a moment. “You mean you don’t want word of his former occupation getting out.”

“A simple request that will make things much tidier for us.”

He waited. She sipped her coffee.

“That’s it?”

An arched brow. “Well, I could ask for two hundred million, but I suspect the answer would be no. So that’s it. A fair and honest bargain, made in good faith. Do we have a deal?”

He hesitated, then nodded.

FORTY-NINE

The press conference was scheduled for 4 p.m., and by two, the a

Evelyn, Felix and Qui

We searched the house from top to bottom and made a list of every possible entry point. Then we narrowed the list down to the most likely ones. The upstairs windows would be too difficult to get into, especially for a man approaching sixty. The basement one was too small. The best candidate was the patio door. The backyard was enclosed by a privacy fence, so once he was over that fence, he was out of sight.

We closed the vertical blinds so he could work on the patio door without being seen from inside. That also meant he couldn’t take a shot from outside-a bonus. We closed every blind in the house to solve that potential problem. Plus I’d be wearing body armor. That sounds a lot safer than it really is…a pro like Wilkes would know body armor was a possibility with a secured witness, and he’d aim for my head. But if he didn’t have a chance to aim, the armor would help.

We closed off every room that we didn’t need, and Jack applied something to the hinges so they’d squeak if the doors opened. With the shades drawn and doors all closed, the house was nearly dark, even at midday, and we moved furniture around, putting side tables in the halls, chairs just beyond doors, wrinkling area rugs, nothing that looked too out of place, but giving Wilkes things to bump into or trip over as he made his way through the house.

It would drive me crazy, having rumpled rugs and cock-eyed furniture, but if he stumbled or bumped something, it would be another way to let me know he was inside. We could have done more, rigged up an alert system of some sort, but if he found it, he’d know this was a trap.

Once the house was set, and I’d memorized the layout well enough to navigate in the dark, we ran through the plan, every variation of the plan, and every conceivable obstacle to the plan. Only when Jack was certain he’d left nothing unconsidered did he declare we were ready to bring in the others…and lunch.

Over lunch, we went through the plan with Evelyn, Felix and Qui

Felix left me my radio, and showed me how to operate it. Qui

They waited in the front room while Jack gave me last-minute instructions. Once they were out of earshot, he turned my way.

“You okay?”

I managed a weak smile. “As okay as I’m going to be.”

“It’ll be fine. Got everything covered.” His gaze shot to me. “Did, didn’t we? Everything covered?”

“It’s fine, Jack.”

“Things don’t go as pla

I nodded.

“You want me here? Maybe we could-”

“No. The plan makes the most sense as it is.”

We stood there, the silence thick and heavy.

“I know you don’t want me to do this, Jack.”

A moment’s hesitation. “No. No, I don’t.”

“What happened yesterday, it wasn’t-I was just-”

I stopped, realizing it would do no good to argue. He knew what had happened in that alley. If the lengths I’d gone to had surprised him, my motivation had not.

Yesterday he’d said he knew I wanted “it” bad, but didn’t realize how bad, how far I’d go. Now I understood what that had meant. All those times I feared I’d let the mask slide and my rage show, then seen his reaction-no reaction at all-I’d told myself I’d dodged the bullet, kept my secret. But if he hadn’t reacted, it was because he hadn’t been surprised, had already seen what drove me. Saw it, accepted it, let it be…until I almost got myself killed.