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"We think he'll come in the kitchen," I said, speaking softly and quickly. "The radio should draw him in here. You can lie in wait--"
"Don't tell me where I'll lie in wait."
"Fine. You pick then."
I turned and headed for my bathroom hiding spot, trying not to snarl as I stalked off. Of all the stupid stunts. We'd arranged it this way to protect Dubois. All the glory and none of the risk. And this was how he repaid us? There are capable, bright agents all across the nation...and we had to wind up with an idiot.
This was a possibility Jack hadn't accounted for. We'd discussed the chance that Dubois would back out before the press conference, or on the way here, or before he got out of the car. Or that'd he'd get overeager and rush in too soon afterward, before we could leave. Or that our departure would be met with squad cars. The thought that he'd walk through that door and demand to take down Wilkes himself had never crossed our minds. Why? Because it was stupid!
As I brushed past Dubois, he made a move to stop me. I turned a glare on him.
"You want to take him down?" I whispered. "Then get ready. Before he comes through that door and finds us bickering in the hallway."
Dubois returned my glare, but let me pass. When I got to the bathroom, I looked back and saw him ducking into the living room. In other words, he was counting on Wilkes coming through that patio door into the kitchen. And if he didn't? Well, that was Dubois's problem. I wouldn't stand back and watch him get shot, but nor was I going to risk losing Wilkes to ensure Dubois's safety.
I slipped into the bathroom and looked around. Still a good hiding spot, with only one door and a window too small for Wilkes to climb through. I got into position, then turned on my radio, keeping the volume down, unit at my ear.
"We know," Jack said before I could speak. His voice was hard, words clipped. "Can't worry about it. You in position?"
"Affirmative," I whispered. "Quinn?"
"Here."
"Wire?"
A soft exhale, and I knew he'd been worrying about the same thing: whether Dubois was wired, either with a single partner backing him up or as a full operation, with a battalion of agents waiting to swoop in. There was no way to know for sure, and given how Dubo
is had treated me so far, he wasn't about to submit to a search.
"Fifty-fifty," he said after a moment.
"Shit."
"Forget it," Jack said. "Have to. Visitors show up? We'll know it. Warn you. Get you out. Meanwhile? Watch what you say. Stay on task."
An hour later, I was still waiting. Finally, I heard footsteps in the hall. Heavy footsteps. I sighed, but took up position anyway, in the corner by the door, gun drawn, watching through a mirror over the sink. Sure enough, within seconds, Dubois appeared.
I considered shooting him. Nothing fatal. Maybe a bullet through the right shoulder. Whoops, you can't fire a gun with a wounded shoulder? Guess we'd better get you out of here. Next time you're in a house with an armed stranger waiting for a serial killer? Don't come creeping down the hallway.
"Get back in position," I said through my teeth.
"It's been an hour. He's not showing up."
"No? Well, maybe that's because you're in here, and he needs to plan a little. If you'd left, he would have made damned sure he got in here before you returned."
"So this is my fault?"
I didn't dare answer that.
"Stand guard," I said. "I'll call my partners, and see whether anything's changed from their end."
* * *
FIFTY
"You gotta get him out of there," Jack said.
"You think I haven't tried? If you can do better, then I'll hand the radio over, because I want him gone even more than you do, but he won't go without a fight...and a fight will give Wilkes the perfect opportunity to strike."
