If he was trying to scare her, it was working.
Then what?
Let me retrieve it. I know what surveillance looks like. And how to get around it.
She didn’t like the way he was inserting himself into this.
No, she signed. They’re looking for you, too, remember? If you show up at a nexus for me, they’ll spot you just as easily.
They’ll have a harder time taking that thumb drive from me than they would from you.
No, she didn’t like the way he was inserting himself one bit. What if… what if this whole thing were an elaborate game of good cop / bad cop, the way she’d momentarily thought in the van? Marvin “rescues” her from Delgado, getting her to trust him enough to tell him where she’d hidden the thumb drive. He takes the drive, they grab Hamilton…
It didn’t make sense. Why would Marvin have let Hamilton go? Was there some sort of tracking device, a way of picking up the journalist again once he’d served his function? But Delgado had been holding her, so what would be the point of letting her go? Delgado could have just tortured the thumb drive’s location out of her; she knew he’d been right about that. So if this whole thing was a ruse, what kind of ruse? She couldn’t see it.
You couldn’t see how they tracked you to the Rockville mail drop, either, she thought. And Hamilton couldn’t see how you tracked him to that Ankara hotel. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it isn’t there.
She hesitated, then signed, Do you… do you carry a gun?
He nodded.
Did you shoot someone before? Outside my building?
He looked down for a moment, then signed, There are a lot of people after you. You should know how to use a gun.
She didn’t disagree. But he certainly hadn’t answered her question.
Or maybe he had.
All right, she signed. Show me how.
He reached behind his waist and came back with a huge, black pistol. He ejected the magazine and pulled back the slide. A bullet popped out and tumbled to the bed. He handed her the gun.
She hefted it, then set it down so she could sign. It’s heavy.
Check that it’s unloaded.
What? You just unloaded it.
Always check for yourself.
He showed her how. The weight is good, by the way. It compensates for kick.
She nodded. Where’s the safety?
I keep it uncocked. The first trigger pull cocks the gun, which means a long pull. That itself is a kind of safety. After the first shot, the gun cocks automatically. So subsequent trigger pulls are short and easy. All you have to do to fire is aim and pull the trigger. The first pull will be long. After that, all it takes is a very light squeeze. But think of it as pressing more than pulling or squeezing. It’ll keep your hand steadier.
He showed her how to hold it — two hands and a tight grip — and how to aim by lining up the sights.
I’ll take you to the range sometime, he signed. And Dash, if you like.
She gave him a smile and nod she hoped looked real. It’s late. I need to send Hamilton’s editor a message.
He nodded. I’ll keep watch.
I’ll bet you will, she thought. And then signed, No, why don’t you sleep for a while? I’ll keep watch, and when I get tired, I’ll wake you.
He looked at her for a long moment. She couldn’t read his expression. Then he signed, Are you sure?
Yes. I’m too keyed up right now, anyway.
He reloaded and reholstered the gun, then went back to the bedroom.
She used Tor to go to the Intercept website, then accessed SecureDrop and wrote out a long message to Betsy Leed. She hoped it sounded less crazy to the Intercept editor than it did to her.
CHAPTER
42
Anders paced in his office, rubbing his hands, trying to manage his agitation. He was practically sleeping at Fort Meade these days. And just when he thought he’d gotten things under control, this. Some anomalies in his text communications with Delgado. Anomalies he’d tested, with results that made him even more suspicious. He’d geolocated on Delgado’s phone, and then, on a hunch, on Manus’s and Gallagher’s, as well. The three of them appeared to be together, which made no sense, and heading toward Gallagher’s apartment. He’d sent a team to investigate. The team had failed to check in. He’d sent another team, which reported that the first team had been annihilated. The second team cleaned up the mess and retrieved three cell phones from Gallagher’s apartment. No sign of anyone. Anders had worked backward to last known locations, and saw Manus converging on the Triadelphia Reservoir, where geolocation records indicated Delgado had been holding Gallagher. Anders had sent Remar, and he’d found Delgado, handcuffed to the steering wheel of his van, bloody and raving. Anders had spoken to him briefly, and he said he had the thumb drive. So thank God for that. But the first drive, the one Manus had taken from Hamilton, had been a decoy. This one could be, too. Anders needed to examine the drive. And debrief Delgado. Remar was bringing him in now. But it felt like it was taking forever.
After fifteen long minutes, there was a knock on the door. Remar opened it and Delgado stormed past him into the office. Anders stopped and stared. Delgado’s face was a mess — bruised, swollen, the nose obviously broken, a bloody scalp wound where the hair plugs had once rested, his mouth a crimson disaster. It looked like Remar had administered a certain degree of first aid — there were iodine stains on the cuts, and a dressing over one cheek — but he was going to need more than just that. He was going to need a plastic surgeon.
“What the hell happened?” Anders said. Remar started to ease out, and Anders said, “No, stay.” Remar closed the door and stood next to it as though fearing Delgado might run.
Delgado started pacing. “That fucking Manus,” he said, his speech slightly slurred from his injuries. “That’s what happened. How many times have I told you you couldn’t trust that guy? How many? Did you know he was fucking Gallagher? Did you?”
Somehow, Delgado’s distress made Anders feel calmer. “I know a great many things, Thomas. I share them only when operationally necessary.”
“Oh, really? Did you not think it might be operationally necessary to let me know Manus just might have a fucking thing for this chick? That he might not like the idea of her being, I don’t know, abducted, raped, and murdered in an unsolved crime? Did you not realize any of that?”
“No. I didn’t.”
“Well, fuck me sideways, maybe you should have! The guy just shows up outside the Sprinter, totally violating the plan, what the hell am I supposed to do? I knew something was hinky, too, I knew it. I had my gun out and was going to call you. But that deaf cocksucker is fast.”
Anders knew he ought to indulge the man, let him rant for a few minutes, but he couldn’t wait. “Where is the thumb drive?”
“Right. That.” Delgado reached into a pants pocket and handed it over.
Anders dashed around to the other side of his desk, not even trying to conceal his eagerness. It took less than ten seconds to confirm it wasn’t encrypted.