Of course, while he waited, he did nothing but think of all the things that could go wrong.
He’d mapped out the route from Andrews to the restaurant Zanesworth had chosen, and driven it, round trip, seven times before he felt comfortable. He knew it only made sense for the colonel’s car to make a right turn coming out of the Air Force base. And he was certain Zanesworth would come to the base in the morning-he was a business-as-usual kind of guy. That’s why Justin had made the meet for lunch, so the officer wouldn’t just take the first part of the day off. And Justin knew the way cops handled this sort of thing-they’d be at the meeting place, have it staked out from hell to high water, expecting Justin to show up there early if he were trying to be clever. He had it all figured out, absolutely. Unless Zanesworth knew a shortcut and made a left or the colonel decided to stay home until the big meal or unless these cops were different and smarter and came with Zanesworth, picked him up from the departure point rather than at the meet.
No. He had to try to put all that out of his mind. This would work. It would definitely work. Wouldn’t it?
Yes.
It was working.
At least so far.
Ten-twenty-two and there was Zanesworth’s car. He had a driver, which Justin had figured on, probably the young officer who’d escorted Justin to his parking space the time he’d come to meet the colonel. Justin started up the engine of his rental car. Waited. Let them get half a block ahead. There didn’t seem to be any cars accompanying the colonel. It was definitely working.
About five blocks from the base, they reached one of the streets that Justin had decided would suffice-it was quiet but not too quiet; he wanted a few people around so things didn’t appear suspicious right from the start-and then he stuck the baseball cap he’d brought along on his head, and sped up. When Colonel Zanesworth’s driver stopped at the stop sign, Justin didn’t slow down. He rammed straight into the back of the officer’s car. Without hesitating, Justin hopped out of his car, sauntered up to the car with the smashed-in back fender. He knew the colonel was expecting him to be in a suit and tie-as Justin had specified over the phone-so he figured he had an extra few moments before he was recognized in his jeans and baseball cap. He went to the driver’s window, saw that Zanesworth’s chauffeur was indeed the same officer escort Justin had already met, but it was the back door that opened a few inches. The colonel stuck his head outside and started his sentence with, “We’re involved in government business right now, we can’t-” but he stopped speaking when the muzzle of Justin’s gun was placed firmly up against his left eye.
“Shove over, Colonel,” he said. And when the officer hesitated, Justin added, “I probably won’t shoot you in the head but I sure as shit’ll put one right in your knee or someplace that’ll hurt like hell. So just do what I say and it’ll be fine.” And as he slid inside the car to sit next to Zanesworth, Justin said to the driver, “Keep both hands on the wheel until I tell you different. If one finger so much as comes loose, I’ll cripple your colonel for life. You got that?”
The young officer said, “Yes, sir,” and Justin closed the door behind him.
“Make a right turn,” he told the driver. “Go slow, as if you’re just pulling away from the accident so you don’t block traffic. Then go two blocks and make another right.”
The colonel started to talk but Justin tapped him with the gun-not as lightly as he might have, he wanted it to hurt. “Shut up,” he said, and he was almost embarrassed how satisfying it was to speak those words. He then did a quick frisk, took a pistol out of Zanesworth’s shoulder holster.
The driver had now made the second right. Justin told him to go one more block and make a left. They went about ten blocks farther, turning a few more times. Justin saw that no one was following them, so he told the driver to stop and pull over. They were in a business area near a strip mall and a few small stores.
“Colonel,” Justin said, “get down on the floor, facedown, hands interlaced behind your back. Once you’re there, if I see you move, I’ll shoot you.”
Justin opened the car door on his side, stepped outside, and watched Zanesworth settle into his position. Then he tapped the driver on the back of the head with his gun, said, “Okay, Junior, I’m going to open your door. Keep your hands completely visible at all times and get out of the car.”
They managed that maneuver. Justin took a pistol off the driver, made sure he had no other weapons, then he said, “Step behind the car here and get undressed.”
“What?”
“Give me the keys to the car first, then take your clothes off.”
“Why?”
“Here’s the way it works in the real world. Say another word and I’ll beat you senseless. Now get out of your clothes. Fast.”
The officer clamped his mouth shut, kicked off his shoes and removed his shirt and pants.
“Underwear and socks, too,” Justin told him.
The young officer glared but said nothing. And then he was completely naked.
“Okay,” Justin said. “Crouch down behind the car, here on the curb side.”
The young officer followed instructions. Then Justin went around to the street side, opened the door, reached inside the car, and grabbed Zanesworth by the neck. He pulled the colonel roughly out onto the street, then quickly shoved him back into the passenger seat in the front.
Justin strode quickly back to the driver’s side, got in, and started up the engine. “Have a nice day,” he said to the naked officer, and drove away.
Half a block later, Zanesworth said quietly, “There was no need to humiliate the lieutenant like that.”
“Sure there was,” Justin said. “I’m hoping I don’t need you for long, Colonel, I just need one piece of information. And it’s going to take a naked guy with no ID at least fifteen or twenty minutes to get anyone to pay attention to anything he says. Hopefully you’ll be heading home long before then.”
When Zanesworth didn’t respond, Justin said, “Thinking of all kinds of threats to make? Hard to think of any that don’t sound really cliched, isn’t it?”
“You can’t possibly get away with this,” Zanesworth answered.
“See what I mean?”
“You’re as good as dead.”
“Colonel, I’ve been as good as dead for a pretty long time, so that doesn’t exactly get me shaking in my boots.”
“I’m not giving you any information.”
“We’ll see.”
“Son, I don’t know what the hell you’re thinking-”
“I’ll tell you what I’m thinking, Colonel. I’m thinking that you’re an arrogant, egotistical, pompous asshole who’s boxed himself into a corner. You’ve spent so many years giving orders and taking orders that you don’t know your ass from your elbow. I also don’t think you’re all that smart. How am I doing so far?”
Zanesworth didn’t answer. Justin shrugged and went on. “But you’re a military lifer, right? So I do think you’re smart enough to know when it’s time to retreat. And it’s time, Colonel. You picked the wrong side. I don’t think you even knew you were picking a side, that’s how well you were played. Somebody called you about eighteen months ago, said they needed a pilot. That it was business but it was patriotic business. Whoever it was sold you a pretty good case that this was a matter of national security. Must have been someone pretty high up, who could get your attention. You want to hear more?”