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Billy nodded and collapsed onto his back, his arms spread wide in a gesture of surrender. He groaned. “The way you fight, lady, you should work for the CIA.”
Done in by stress, I blinked back tears. Just what I need. A job where I’d do this on a regular basis.
Within a minute, several unmarked cars barreled into view, shuddering to a halt near the house. George exited his car and rushed toward me. “Are you okay?”
“I will be. Someday.” I’d dried my eyes and recovered my composure but felt stingy with my words and feelings. I wanted to be left the hell alone.
“In case you hadn’t guessed, we lost your signal.” George shook his head. “Government issue crap. You’d think after 9/11 . . . .” His voice trailed off.
“How did you find me?”
Cotter appeared, looking a bit worse for wear. “I snuck a tracking device on the car while Billy was running an errand. Never did tell Billy about it. I figured the less he knew, the better. Little did I know. Fortunately, Billy only knocked me out instead of killing me. Guess he didn’t want to deal with my corpse in downtown D.C.
“After I came to, I tried to reach the Feds. No dice, but I was able to reach your sister. Billy took my cell phone, but he didn’t take this.” Cotter pointed to his watch. He hit a button. “Check it out.” The watch face converted into the screen of a mini-GPS tracking device.
“I want one of those.” George actually sounded jealous.
I watched men and women in Kevlar vests make their way into the house, guns drawn. “Cynthia. She’s hurt,” I said.
I tried to explain, but George put a hand on my arm. “They’ll see to her. How are you? Did you learn anything?”
“Oh, my God. Yes.” I dug the typed Q and A out of the laptop case side pocket and handed it over. George read it with eyes expanding to saucers.
George’s female twin appeared at his elbow. George thrust the notes at her. “It’s Yellowstone. Alert the federal, state, and local authorities now. We have to stop them before they blow it up.”
“You might want this,” I said.
They turned to look at the flash drives in my hand.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Jessica
A flurry of activity followed. Billy was taken into custody. Cops descended on the house, a typical brick rancher. A medic unit arrived at the scene, its two occupants hustling a stretcher and drug box inside. George and his twin took the drives and plugged them into a laptop. From the front seat of their car, the agents were able to connect securely to the Internet with a wireless hotspot device and email the files to their counterparts out West.
George breathed a heavy sigh. “Thank God for wi-fi. It’s in their hands now,” he said, eyes downcast. He looked up again at me. “We need to debrief you
.”
Great. Without a word, I opened the car’s back door and slid inside. The way I slammed it shut conveyed how I felt.
George’s liquid brown eyes gazed at me, warming my insides. “Don’t worry. We only have a few questions about what happened.”
I nodded. “Can we just be done with this?”
“Soon,” he assured me. George gazed toward the house. The EMTs were taking Cynthia out on a stretcher. She wasn’t moving.
“What’s wrong with her? She was conscious when I left her.” I started to scramble from the car, but George placed a hand on my arm.
I ignored the gesture, but he tightened his grip until I thought he’d cut off my circulation.
“Someone gave her a nasty crack on the head,” he said. “She may have a serious concussion.”
“Could I have hit her that hard?”
George squinted my way. “You hit Cynthia?”
“She asked me to. It was part of my escape plan.” I mulled the possibilities. “There was this other man. Never got his name, but he had a deep tan and black eyes. Was he in there?”
