“Get ready,” Lacee says.
He reaches into his pocket and stares at the phone for a moment before answering the call.
“Hello?”
“Use the dock on the right side of Terminal 30 and walk to the end.” Derek also rigged the phone so my voice sounds more like a robot than a human. “You’ll see a bench with a black bag on top of it. Place the bag over your head so you can’t see anything. Once you’ve followed these instructions, we’ll take you to meet Sasha.”
“What a—”
I click off the call before Todd can finish his sentence.
“Do you think he’s going to do it?” Lacee keeps her voice low.
“He’ll do it. He has to.”
Todd looks around for a second, then walks to the right side of the Terminal, heading toward the water. I lower my binoculars, pick up my bird-watching book, and turn my back to him.
“Ten meters,” Lacee reports. “Five meters,” she says a few seconds later. “And he’s there.”
“What about the black bag?”
“He’s taking his sweet time getting it over his head.”
I hold my breath, waiting for her to give me the signal.
“It’s on.”
I spin around, moving toward Todd. As I walk, I open the book in my hand and pull out the pen stashed inside the hollowed-out pages. I keep my feet quiet as I approach him from behind. I place the tip of the pen on the side of his neck, over the bag’s fabric. Todd straightens, startled by the touch.
I flip into my best Russian accent. “Don’t be alarmed. You’re just going to sleep for a little bit.” Then Iclickthe pen, shooting the sleeping drug into his neck. He tenses briefly, then everything relaxes, and his body slumps over.
I stand, looking behind me for Lacee.
“Coming now with the wagon and the blanket to cover him up,” she says as if she can see me searching for her. “We don’t want anyone to be suspicious of the sleeping man we’re wheeling out of here.”
“Alright, Todd.” I walk around the bench so I’m facing him. “It’s time to go for a ride.”
FORTY-FIVE
LACEE
“This is a terrible idea,”I say as I help Park pull Todd Allen’s limp body out of the back of the car.
“It is not a terrible idea.” Park wraps his arms around Todd’s upper chest doing the final lifting. He places him in a wheelchair, sitting him upright, then turns back around to shut the car door. “Everything’s going great.”
That’s when Todd’s body hunches over, and he takes a nosedive out of the wheelchair face planting on the snowy sidewalk.
Park looks at me. “Is there a seatbelt or something we’re supposed to fasten so he doesn’t fall out?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Okay.” Park squats, lifting Todd’s deadweight again. “One. Two. Three. Up he goes.” He grunts as he sits him back in the wheelchair. He brushes off snow crystals from the front of his jacket and face. “Maybe we should hold his shoulders this time so he doesn’t fall out.”
“Good idea.” I scramble to the side of the wheelchair, pushing Todd’s body back as Park drives the chair forward. “I’m really nervous about this part of the plan.”
Park flashes me one of his charming smiles. “What could possibly go wrong?”
Everything.
