AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Are you serious?”
Kerra and Trapper had spoken at the same time. Wilcox said, “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. They’re ruthless. They’ll stop at nothing.”
“They learned from a damn good high priest,” Trapper said.
The other man lowered his head for a moment and exhaled, but he didn’t own up to it.
Trapper tilted his head in puzzlement. “One thing I don’t get. Why haven’t they just popped you?”
Wilcox’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Because I have an assassination-proof life insurance policy.”
“Bulletproof vest?” Trapper said. “Life preserver? Food taster?”
“Something much surer.”
“What?”
Wilcox smiled. “Not until we’ve made our deal, Mr. Trapper.” Wilcox checked his wristwatch again and stood. “This has gone on too long. You don’t have to give me an answer tonight. But until you do, your life is in jeopardy, along with Kerra’s and The Major’s. You’ve made clear what you think of me. But balance their lives against your enmity toward me, and your decision should become clear. The sooner we strike our deal, the better for all concerned.” He extended his hand. “May I have my pistol back, please? You may keep the bullets, but the gun is a valuable artifact.”
Trapper regarded him closely, then reached around to the small of his back, pulled the revolver from his waistband, and handed it over. Wilcox thanked him and dropped the pistol into the pocket of his overcoat.
“I’ll leave first,” he told them. As he moved past Kerra, he paused and looked at her as though he would say something more, then he went out without further comment, the broken door glass crunching beneath his shoes.
They heard the whirr of the elevator. “Isn’t the entrance kept locked?” Kerra asked. “How will he get out?”
“If he managed to get in…” Trapper said. He went over to the window and peered through the blinds.
“Is he leaving?”
“With the musketeers flanking him.” He continued watching for a time, then whispered, “Son of a bitch.”
“What?”
“There was a fifth. He just came out of the building across the street, carrying a rifle case. They’re going, him and his armed escorts.” When he came back around to her, he said, “Or those guys could be his Tuesday night poker group, and he’s just telling us bogeyman stories to throw us off.”
“He might have lied about everything else, but I don’t believe he lied about his daughter and how she died.”
“Me either.”
“And the rest of it?”
“I tend to believe that, too,” Trapper said grimly. “He’s spooked, or he wouldn’t have been here. And those guys were too good to be poker buddies. I didn’t know they were there.”
“Will you intercede on his behalf?”
“With the feds, you mean?” He huffed a laugh. “He’s got a whole lot more faith in my influence than I do.”
She looked down at the wall outlet. “What was hidden in there?”
“Wilcox made a lucky guess.”
“You’d put everything on a flash drive?”
“Yep. Copies of every scrap of information, names, dates, transcripts of interviews with people who survived the Pegasus, and a recording of Berkley Johnson spilling his guts to me.”
“On video?”
“Yeah. I didn’t want Wilcox to know about that. Not yet.”
