"He'll get it."
"And then?"
"Then… I fi gure-you brief me on what it is I'm supposed to know. I go in wired, meet with the guy, deal with him, maybe draw him out. When you hear what you need to hear, you move in and bust him."
There was another moment of stillness between the two of them, Foster's eyes on Shannon, Shannon's on Foster, both men silent. Murmuring voices came from the other side of the dividers, the other end of the loft. Then Foster's face went bright with a grin. He shook his head. He laughed.
"What?" said Shannon.
"No, no, dog, nothing. It's a great plan. Great, really. Except if you go in wired, he'll find it in half a second."
Shannon thought about it. "Not wired then. We set it up somewhere you can mike."
"He won't come into anything like that. He won't come just anywhere."
"He'll come. He'll have to."
"No. He's not stupid. He'll have to feel safe."
Shannon thought some more but couldn't come up with anything.
Foster helped him out. "We have some tools available. If they work, we'll be able to listen in."
"There you go. Do that then. Use your tools."
"What we won't be able to do is stay close. If he's smart-and he is smart-we'll be too far away to get to you."
"Why do you have to get to me?"
"Stop him killing you. We won't be able to get to you in time to stop him killing you."
"If he kills me, then you've got him. Isn't that what you said?"
Foster shook his head. "That was before. Now you're a cop-killer."
"He still can't just kill me. Not if you're listening in."
"Maybe."
"All right then. It's a plan."
"He will kill you, Shannon. You know that, right? He may talk to you, he may not. He may just open fire."
"Then you've got him. That's what you wanted."
"I'd say probably. I'd say he'll probably just open fire."
"Well, then you've got him," Shannon said again.
"And if you do live… in the unlikely event… man, I'm telling you-I can't promise you anything. Not thing one. I'm not in that position."
"Doesn't sound like it's going to be an issue, does it?"
Foster laughed again. "No, it doesn't. No, it definitely does not." He lapsed into another silence-silence and stillness-studying Shannon.
"Is there a problem?" Shannon said.
"Maybe. I don't know. I'm not reading this. It makes me uncomfortable."
"I guess we all have to take our chances, don't we?"
"Maybe. I mean, give me a clue-what am I dealing with here? Is it silver bells, Christmas time in the city? You suddenly discover your inner good Samaritan…? Oh wait… The girl."
Shannon said nothing.
"You're kidding me," Foster said. "This is about the girl?"
"And the boy and the old man, too."
"Well, well, well."
"Whatever."
"What do you want exactly?"
"I want them out of here. They're not safe in this city. The cops are after them, the bangers are after them. The cops and the bangers are the same people here-what the hell? I want them safe. I want them out. New city, new job, new names if they need them."
"New life, like princess in fairy tale, huh."
Shannon's lip curled. The skeevy federal bastard had been listening to that, too. "That's right. Why not? They'll never be safe here now."
"No, they won't. You're right about that. They're dead if they stay."
"So what's the problem? Can't you do it? They're clean. They got no records. Nothing you got to clear or pull strings for. You got programs that handle stuff like this, don't you?"
"Oh yeah. We can do it. For them? It'd be easy."
"So there it is. That's the deal."
"You go in, Ramsey kills you, we get Ramsey, the girl and her people are safe. That's the deal?"
"Well-who knows? Maybe he won't kill me."
"Oh, he'll kill you, Shannon. I don't mind making the deal, but that's what it is. He'll kill you."
"All right. But you'll make the deal?"
"I might. Is that everything?"
Shannon hesitated, pressing his lips together. He didn't like to tell this skeevy bastard any more than he had to. "Tell her how you set me up. When it's all done, tell her how I didn't know. When I came into her house, I didn't know anyone was after me. I wouldn't have brought them into it, if I'd known."
"That's right. It was my doing. I'll tell her that."
"And about Gutterson, how that happened. And how I never did Hernandez. I was never anywhere near that."
"Your last will and testament, huh?"
"Whatever. Don't be an asshole. Just tell her."
The federal agent sat still, watching him, thinking it over. "I don't think I've ever seen this before."
"The world is full of things you don't see."
"Is it? I wouldn't know." He stood up quickly. "All right."
Shannon stood up. "We're good to go?"
Foster nodded. He stretched his neck, moving his shoulders up and down in an undulating rhythm. The tics and nervous shiftings had begun again. "We're good. We'll have to move fast before Ramsey figures it out."
"That's your department. Do what you do."
Foster moved away, moved to the edge of the plywood divider. He paused there. He glanced back at Shannon.
"What now?" Shannon said. "For Christ's sake, Foster."
"All right. All right. But it's kind of out of character for you, this, isn't it?"
"I guess it's not, since I'm doing it."
"I guess that's right." But he studied Shannon another moment or two.
"We all have to take our chances, Foster," Shannon told him.
"I guess that's right," Foster said again. He walked out.
Shannon stayed where he was, alone in the little enclosure. He paced back and forth behind the plywood walls. He didn't want to go out in the loft and see Teresa. He didn't want to see Applebee or the boy, either. He just wanted them to go so he could do what he was going to do and get it over with. It would be easier without seeing them.
But the boy came running the length of the loft. Shannon heard his footsteps, and then the kid came into the enclosure.
"Hey," said Shannon, looking down at him.
"The car is here to take us to the doctor."
"That's good. The doctor'll fix you up."
"I don't even hurt anymore."
"Well, you're a tough guy."
Teresa came looking for her son. She took him by the shoulders. "Come on, Michael, we have to go."
The boy stood looking up at Shannon. "You beat the gangsters," he said.
"That's right."
"There were a lot of them, too."
"They won't hurt you anymore. You'll be safe now."
"Come on, sweetheart," said Teresa.
"Isn't Henry coming to the doctor?"
"We have to go," she told him. "The car is waiting."
"I'll see you, kid," Shannon said.
"Go wait with Grandpa," Teresa said.
She sent the boy back into the loft. She stepped into the enclosure with Shannon. She stepped close to him. Her face was swollen and lopsided, but it didn't bother him. He looked in her eyes and he was crazy in love with her. He wanted to explain that he hadn't known he was dangerous to her or he would never have come to her house in the first place.
"Listen…" he said.
She put her hand on his face and drew him toward her and kissed him. It was a good kiss. When she drew back, he couldn't find any words.
"We'll talk later," she said softly.
"Sure," he said.
"We'll figure it all out. Nothing's impossible."
He was crazy in love with her; he couldn't believe how much. "I'll be seeing you, Teresa," he said.
"See you."
She walked out of the enclosure. He listened to her footsteps, moving back across the loft. He listened to the voices. He heard the door closing. Then the loft was quiet.
He was glad they were gone. They just made it harder. Now he could do what he was going to do. Now he could get it over with. IT WAS A LONG NIGHT-a long, long night. The waiting was bad. The waiting is always the worst part, Shannon thought. He lay on the cot where the slick agent had read the girly magazine. He lay with his eyes open, staring up at the pipes zig-zagging through the shadows on the loft ceiling. He thought that this was what it must feel like to be on death row. The weird combination of suspense-as if you didn't know what was going to happen-and the sickness of inevitability. Shannon figured you felt the suspense because even though you did know what would happen, you couldn't help hoping you'd be saved from it somehow. Where there's life, there's hope-that's what makes the whole business so terrifying.