“My God, she’s twenty minutes away from here.”
“Yes.”
“Is this application mobile?”
“Of course.”
“The detachment’s ready to go?”
“Waiting in the parking lot.”
“Good. We’re going with them.”
Remar kept a poker face. “Is that necessary?”
“I’m not taking any chances on anyone screwing this up. One way or another, we finish this thing. Today. No matter what we have to do.”
Delgado watched the director and Remar climb into a black Suburban in front of the building and go screaming off. The Suburban was riding low on the shocks — either they were hauling some heavy cargo, or there was a full complement of large men inside.
He pulled out behind them, keeping a nice, safe distance. He’d followed the director before. Funny how clueless the superspooks could be. Like that former CIA and NSA director, giving an “off-the-record” phone interview on an Acela train while a nearby passenger live-tweeted the whole exchange. Or that other former NSA director, who didn’t bother to cover his MacBook’s webcam. Something about all that power seemed to make the assholes who wielded it believe they were invulnerable. Gave them the idea that they could sideline the little people who worked so hard for them.
He’d seen the director’s expression when he was talking about how Manus was still on their side. How Manus just wanted to get them the thumb drive in exchange for a promise of the woman’s safety. He could tell the director had been considering it. And that he’d sent Delgado to “get some rest” just to move him out of the way while he figured out how he wanted to handle things. While he considered the deal Manus seemed to want.
What the director didn’t understand was that there was only one deal. Which was, the freak and the bitch were going to die. Today. Along with anyone who tried to get in the way of it.
CHAPTER
50
Evie looked around as they drove. Once they were off the highway, the streets grew increasingly quiet and residential, as Leed had said they would. They passed numerous speed cameras, which made her nervous. She knew that depending on angle, lighting, and speed, some of these cameras could return images of passengers sharp enough for her facial recognition system to process. She reminded herself that even if her face got picked up, and even if it were recognized, the director wouldn’t be able to act on it quickly enough to make a difference. They were just a few minutes away now. Almost there.
Traffic had become sparse, but it wasn’t nonexistent, either, and she was mindful of Leed’s admonition about taking measures to ensure she wasn’t tailed. But she didn’t see how anyone could have followed her from the airport — or from earlier, for that matter. And besides, what was she going to do, tell the driver, Hey, would you mind doubling back, and driving in circles, and zigzagging for a while? Just want to make sure we don’t have any unwanted company.
She saw a sign for Tobytown, and the driver made a left off River Road. This was it. Pennyfield Lock Road. She checked her watch — right on time. Okay.
They drove slowly along, passing nothing but trees and fields and a few modest houses, the road growing increasingly narrow and rutted as it curved left, then right, then left again, the ground to either side gradually sloping upward and the trees growing closer and closer, creating a canopy of leaves overhead. The area felt exceptionally quiet, even private. She could see why Leed had chosen it.
They came to a one-lane bridge. A sign announced that the park closed at dark. Well, Evie thought nervously, we ought to be out of here before then, anyway.
A sign on the other side of the bridge announced that they had arrived at Pennyfield Lock, of the Chesapeake & Ohio Canal National Historical Park. A moment later, she saw the canal. This was where she was supposed to turn right. But if Leed was already waiting, she didn’t want the driver to see. So she let him follow the road left, and drive the short distance to a small parking area.
Dash had fallen asleep. She rubbed his leg until he moaned and opened his eyes. Hey, good-looking, she signed. We’re here. Almost done with our scavenger hunt.
She paid the driver and they got out. “Enjoy the birds,” he told them, then did a K-turn and drove off.
Hey, she signed to Dash. We’re almost done. This is where the scavenger hunt ends.
He yawned. You still haven’t told me the prize.
Soon. Let me carry those comic books for you, okay?
Dash handed them over. Evie made sure to keep a couple in each hand as they walked back the way they had come. As soon as they were past the road they had come in on, she saw the boat launch. There was a green minivan parked just above it — not a Sprinter, she was glad to see, about which she expected to suffer a permanent phobia. A blond woman, younger than Evie had been expecting, was standing near it. She was holding a rolled-up magazine with both hands.
Evie blew out a long breath and kept walking. This was it.
The woman looked around, then back at Evie. Evie did the same, trying not to be nervous. She didn’t see anyone else.
She stopped a few feet away. The woman said, “Hey, do you know if there’s a way to rent a kayak around here?”
“Uh, I think they’re closed for the season.”
The woman looked around again. “Okay. We’re good. Do you have it?”
“Yes. Betsy?”
“Yes. We have to hurry. Ryan should be calling any minute.”
Evie turned to Dash and handed him the comics. Hon, hold these, okay? Dash rolled them up and jammed them in a pocket. Evie started to reach for the thumb drive.
She heard tires on the gravel behind her. She glanced over. A white pickup. She felt a hot rush of adrenaline and her heart started thudding hard in her chest.
“Relax,” Leed said. “Could be an early morning jogger. Just be cool.”
The pickup paused at the water. She squinted, unsure. The driver looked left, then right.
Marvin.
“Fuck,” Evie breathed.
“What is it?”
“NSA.”
“Goddamn it, you were followed?”
“I don’t know how,” she said, trying not to panic. “I don’t know how it could be possible.”
Marvin saw them. He cut the wheel right, gunned the engine, and drove toward them.
What to do? Run? Where?
Dash signed, Hey, it’s Mr. Manus.
Marvin stopped the truck and got out. He looked at Leed, then at Evie.
You can’t give it to her, he signed. Don’t.
Dash signed, Hey, Mister Manus. Are you here for the scavenger hunt?
Marvin looked at him, seemingly uncomprehending.
What are you going to do to stop me? Evie signed.
Just give it to me. It’s the only way.
Leed looked at Marvin, then at Evie. “What is going on? What are you signing?”
“Just give me a minute.”
“We don’t have a minute.”
It’s not the only way, she signed. The director wants you to think that, but it’s not. You can’t trust him.
No. He’s always been fair to me.
Did she sense some uncertainty in the way his hands formed the words? She hoped so.
He’s not who you think he is, Marvin. Maybe he was once, I don’t know. But he’s not anymore. I know you can see that. I know it.