And hurting her wouldn’t even be the end of it. It would only be the start.
He walked to the edge of the parking lot and paced, examining options, weighing risks. After five minutes, he kept coming back to the same idea. It was dangerous and it was bad. But everything else seemed worse.
His phone vibrated and he pulled it out. It was Delgado. What the fuck is going on?
Manus didn’t respond. He dropped the phone back in his pocket and went into the Safeway. Using cash, he bought a bottled water. A few granola bars. And a thumb drive.
Outside, he tore open and tossed the packaging and pocketed the thumb drive. The water and granola bars went into the canvas shopping bag, along with Evie’s purse and shoe.
He walked to his pickup, which he had left in a nearby parking lot, opened the toolbox, put the canvas bag inside, and took out the StingRay. In less than a minute, he had the location of the cell phone Delgado had been texting from. It looked like he was in the middle of the woods around the Triadelphia Reservoir. Manus’s stomach clenched at the thought of how dark it would be there, how private.
His phone vibrated again. Delgado: Answer me, asshole. Did you find the drive?
He texted back, Waiting outside the bathroom. Need it to be empty.
Okay. Just stop blowing me off. I want to know what’s going on. I don’t trust this bitch.
Manus closed the toolbox, touched the hilt of the Espada in his front pocket and the butt of the Force Pro in the holster, got in the pickup, and drove off.
CHAPTER
36
It took Manus less than twenty minutes to pull onto a dirt road at the end of which the StingRay told him he would find Delgado. Delgado had texted him twice while he drove. The first time, Manus had texted back that he was still waiting. The second time, he didn’t respond at all. Now he cut the headlights, driving slowly by the glow of the parking lights until he came to an access gate. He stopped and got out to examine it. Sure enough, the chain had been cut, then wrapped around one of the support posts to pass a casual inspection. Manus opened the gate and drove on. When the StingRay indicated he was a quarter mile away, he did a tight K-turn, cut the engine, and continued on foot.
The air was moist amid the trees, perfumed by wood and dirt. He could smell the reservoir just ahead, a clean smell like brass or ozone. He walked slowly, a new Defender Ultra set low and cupped in one hand, careful to avoid branches that might crack under the weight of his boots.
When he was close to the water, he spotted the contours of the Sprinter, the metal incongruous in the dim light against the trees around it. He clicked off the flashlight, returned it to his pocket, and positioned himself to the left of the sliding door. Delgado was right-handed, and by keeping to the left, Manus would force the man to emerge from cover to get off a shot, while at the same time making shooting itself maximally awkward. If it came to that.
He texted, I’m here.
A few seconds went by. Then: What do you mean here?
Outside the Sprinter. I have the drive.
A long moment spun out. Manus watched the Sprinter, his hand on the grip of the Force Pro.
The Sprinter door slid open. Manus saw Delgado, silhouetted from within. He was holding a pistol, but it was pointing down. Concerned about trouble, but not quite ready to make trouble of his own. Okay. Manus moved his hand off the Force Pro and let his shirt fall back over it.
Delgado was talking, but with the light coming from behind him, Manus couldn’t make out what he was saying.
“I can’t read your lips from here,” Manus said. He moved closer, his arms loose at his sides, letting Delgado see his empty hands. There, that was better.
Delgado brought up the pistol and pointed it at Manus’s chest. “Stop. How’d you know where to find me?”
Manus stopped. “StingRay. And you call me the dummy.”
He knew Delgado was insecure. He hoped the insult would cause enough irritation to momentarily occlude clear thinking.
Delgado frowned and glanced around. Manus could tell he sensed something was off, but that he couldn’t put his finger on what. The trick now was to deny his brain time to examine what his gut was trying to tell him.
Manus gestured to Delgado’s gun. “Are you planning to shoot me, or can I come in?”
“Where’s the drive?”
“There’s too much light. We need to close that door.”
Delgado raised the gun so the muzzle was pointing at Manus’s face. “Where is the fucking drive?”
He was more suspicious than Manus had hoped. Nowhere to go but straight on.
“Let me see the woman.”
“Why?”
“I need to know she’s safe.”
“You been fucking her?”
“I need to know she’s safe.”
Delgado held out his free hand. “Give me the drive.”
“I don’t have it. But it’s close.”
“Where?”
“The woman first.”
Delgado put a second hand on the grip and adjusted his head so he was sighting down the barrel. “I will shoot you, Manus.”
“Go ahead. Then you can explain to the director how you shot the only person in the world who knows where the drive is.”
A long moment went by. Manus didn’t think Delgado would do it. But he didn’t know, either. It didn’t matter. There was no other way to play this.
Delgado lowered the muzzle to chest level and stepped out of the Sprinter, giving Manus wide berth. “All right,” he said. “You first.”
The man’s tactics were good. He wasn’t going to let Manus get too close. Manus would have to make an opportunity.
Manus stepped into the Sprinter. Evie was sitting on the floor in one of the rear corners, her hands cuffed or tied behind her back. Her clothes were somewhat in disarray and her upper lip was swollen, but it didn’t seem she’d otherwise been hurt. She glanced at Manus and said nothing. But the hate he saw in her eyes was awful.
Delgado climbed in and slid the door closed behind him. He kept the gun on Manus. “Move back,” he said. “Give me room.”
Manus stooped and moved further back. The opportunity wasn’t there. Not yet.
Delgado looked at him. “Where’s the drive, dummy?”
Manus glanced at Evie, then back to Delgado. “The director doesn’t want you to harm her.”
“Bullshit.”
“I just texted with him.”
Delgado sneered. “Yeah? Let me see your phone.”
“I delete my texts. I hope you’re smart enough to do the same. Dummy.”
Delgado reddened. “Who the fuck—”
“Why don’t you call him yourself? Afraid he might say you can’t have your fun?”
Delgado’s eyes narrowed. He swung the gun over to Evie. She flinched but didn’t look away.
“Fun? You want to have fun? Here’s what we do. I start counting. If I get to three before you tell me where the fuck that drive is, I shoot your girlfriend in the face. Sound good? Sound fun? Here we go. One. Two—”
“All right,” Manus said bringing his hands up, palms open. “All right!”
Delgado kept the gun on Evie. “Where?”
“Right here. In my left pocket. I’m going to take it out. Slowly.”
He reached into his left pocket, slowly as promised, removed the thumb drive, and held it out.
Delgado glanced at it, then back to Manus. The gun didn’t waver. “This isn’t the plan. You’re supposed to take it to the director so he can confirm it’s what he wanted. For all we know, that’s just some random thumb drive this bitch picked up in a Walgreens.”