Page 49 of Into the Fire

“‘Sons of bitches’?”

“‘Sons of whores,’” she said. “If you wanna get technical.”

She moved closer to the dog, held her palm out for him to sniff, and started examining him gently.

Evan said, “Is he gonna be okay?”

“We’ll get him patched up,” she said. “I just hope we can place him afterward.”

“And if not?”

“He’ll have to be put down. We’re overcrowded. As in really overcrowded.”

Evan said, “Oh.”

“I can let you know,” she said. “Though we’re not supposed to give dogs to people with … um, housing challenges.”

Her eyes dropped to Evan’s exposed sock. Suddenly aware of his bloody, mud-streaked shirt and clawed pants, he realized that she thought he was homeless.

It had been a long two days.

He grimaced, eager to wrap up the mission and get home to a freezing vodka and a hot shower.

“I could let you know first, though,” she said. “Unofficially. If you had somewhere I could reach you by phone…?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Evan said.

He started for the door. With his hand on the doorknob, he hesitated. Turned back. He walked over and rested a palm on the dog’s shoulder above the gash. The dog strained to lick his knuckles, the tape flapping atop his snout.

Evan thought, Goddamn it.

He jotted down an ordinary phone number that forwarded to his RoamZone and left it with the vet.

Stepping outside, he fished the Turing Phone from his pocket and dialed.

Max’s words came at him in a rush. “What happened?”

“The Terror is no longer a threat to you. Neither are any of his men.”

“Seriously?” Max said. “Wow. Just … wow. So it’s over?”

“Looks like it.”

Evan cut through a back lot onto the neighboring block, where he’d left the Chevy Malibu behind a life-insurance shop that advertised in three languages. The asphalt of the parking lot felt cool through his ragged sock. He walked to where he’d parked next to a dumpster in the darkness at the far edge. Broken glass crunched under his boot, prompting him to mind where he set down his other foot.

Max said, “I can go to the cops now, right? Hollywood Station? I can deliver the thumb drive into the right hands like I promised?”

Evan felt an urge rising in his chest—to wrap this up, put the Nowhere Man to bed, and move on with his life the way he hoped Max would move on with his. But the First Commandment reared into his awareness, casting a shadow over his optimism.

“It looks like the problem’s been handled,” Evan said. “But I don’t want to assume anything just yet. Give me a day or two to make sure this thing is tied up neatly before you go in and let the cops take over.”

“Okay,” Max said. “Okay. What do I do then? When this is done?”

“You can start over,” Evan said.

It struck him that he was speaking for himself as much as for Max. This was the first time his own freedom had been aligned with a client’s. When this mission ended, they’d each be able to turn a new page. He had to be certain that his keenness to do so didn’t make him careless.

The insurance shop’s exterior lights were mostly burned out, so Evan had to slow to study the ground for glinting shards.