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40.726241, -73.982806. 2 HOURS. TURN YOUR PHONES OFF. DO NOT USE FLIGHT MODE. USE THIS PHONE FOR NAVIGATION.
“Coordinates?” Payne says.
I take the phone from him and quickly search the coordinates. They lead to a spot in a park, only a ten-minute walk from where we are now.
Although I wouldn’t exactly say alarm bells are ringing, the idea of turning our phones off and waiting around in a park does leave me feeling uneasy.
Before I can walk away, Payne starts typing again. He’s already hit send before I can stop him.
Not unless you can give me a good reason why.
WHAT YOU THINK YOU ARE LOOKING FOR IS SCRAPING THE TIP OF AN ICEBERG. THIS IS FOR YOUR PROTECTION AS MUCH AS MINE. I WILL EXPLAIN EVERYTHING SOON.
OK. But I am not waiting two hours. I will call when I arrive, and you will answer then.
“You think he’s going to agree to that?” I ask.
Payne shrugs. “Contrary to what you believe, it’s not my wish to lead you into a dangerous situation. It’s not just me, but he doesn’t know that.”
This time, it’s me that doesn’t say anything. Despite what he said, hedidbring me along.
The response doesn’t come instantly. Just as I’m considering whether we should go anyway, the phone finally beeps again.
VIDEO CALL. CLICK THIS LINK.
“Now?” I frown at the screen.
“I think he means from the park,” he replies. “Let’s go.”
“Are you turning your phone off? He’s not going to know, right?”
“Not a chance,” he tells me.
From where we are, the route is almost a straight line, and it doesn’t take long to get to the park. Although the weather is bright and sunny, there’s a chill to the October air. I haven’t seen many people without a coat or jacket while we’ve been here. Consequently, the park is quite empty when we arrive.
Payne navigates us to as close to the coordinates as he can get, standing under a large tree off the path. Then he looks at me. “Are you ready to do this?”
When I nod, he lifts the phone and clicks the link from the message.
I stand to the side, out of sight.
The phone doesn’t ring long before it connects.
“You’re going to make me have my camera on, but not you?” Payne asks, his tone dry.
“Flip the camera and then slowly turn around,” a voice responds.
Payne glances up at me, irritated. Then he taps the screen.
“Who is that?”
“That’s Tori,” Payne tells him. “She’s needs to talk to you too.”
When there’s no response, I look over the top of the phone at Payne. “Did he hang up?”
Payne shakes his head. “I don’t think so. The call is still connected.”
“Continue turning around,” the voice from the call instructs.
