innocence, where everything in the world was surprising, was hard to come by. He missed it.
›› Interview Room
›› Federal Bureau of Investigation Field Office
›› Charlotte, North Carolina
›› 1348 Hours
“I’m in a real bad mood here, Victor.”
“Maybe you should try a nap,” Victor said. “I hear a lot of people put store by them.”
Urlacher sat on the other side of the table. “You think you’re smart, don’t you?”
“Maybe so, but it seems like you’re the one with all the questions,” Victor said. He sipped the Gatorade someone had gotten for him. He’d turned down the offer of coffee, water, and a soft drink to be difficult and to prove that the FBI agents were going to do whatever it took to make him happy.
As long as they thought he was going to rat out his connection.
“Let me give you a few answers for a change,” Urlacher said. “I’m protecting you at this point. That protection’s not going to last long. And I’m betting that NCIS commander can put something on you that the local cops haven’t been able to find. He’ll find a body you didn’t quite bury enough or buried in the wrong place. Then you’re going to be looking at a fall for murder one.”
Victor sipped his Gatorade. He didn’t feel quite as confident as he had a moment ago, but he wasn’t going to let on.
“In fact, I’d be willing to bet that if I let you go, you’ll do something stupid about that big Marine who shot Bobby Lee,” Urlacher said.
“You can bet the farm on that,” Victor grated.
“Even if you manage to kill that man,” Urlacher said, “NCIS will hunt you down for it and you’ll go away forever anyway.”
“They won’t find me.”
“We found you.”
Victor laughed in derision. “I wasn’t hiding.”
“You know, Victor, that’s the first truly stupid thing I’ve heard you say.”
Victor leaned across the table. “If I decide to disappear, I’ll disappear. I was trained by Uncle Sam in one of the hardest-fought ground wars the United States has ever been in. In my time, I’ve been a ghost. I’ve walked into camps at night, with armed men everywhere, found the officer in charge, dropped a hand over his mouth, and slit his throat. Then I held him like a baby while he fought and kicked and drowned in his own blood.”
Urlacher didn’t say anything, but Victor saw that his words had left an impression on the man.
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking that just because that Navy guy hit me this morning I can’t take care of myself,” Victor said.
“I want your connection,” Urlacher said.
“You can’t have him,” Victor said.
“Hanging on to him is foolish.”
“Says you.”
Urlacher shook his head. “You can’t go back to that life, Victor. Whether you’re willing to admit it or not, everything you’ve had up till now is gone. The heat’s going to be on your gang. Tarlton will take Fat Mike and the others apart; then they’ll break the pieces.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Then I should just give you back to Coburn and let you take your chances.”
“No,” Victor said. “You gotta learn to be happy with what I’m willing to give you.”
“What you’re giving me isn’t enough.”
Victor finished the Gatorade and set the plastic container aside. “Get a pen and paper. I’ll give you the local MS-13 dealers.”
Urlacher gestured, and one of the younger agents brought over a legal pad and a pen. The FBI special agent- in-charge slid them over to Victor.
“Get me something to eat,” Victor said.
Urlacher just stared at him.
Victor didn’t move to take up the pen.
Angrily Urlacher gestured at one of the younger agents.
“Ribs,” Victor said. “Falling off the bone. Potato salad and coleslaw. And it better be hot when it gets here. And I want a gallon of tea.”
Urlacher nodded, and the young agent stepped out of the room.
Victor pulled the pad to him. Then he picked up the pen and started to write. Despite his bravado, he knew he was working on borrowed time. The FBI would protect him only as long as he kept the pump primed. The minute he shut down entirely, they would too.
You know enough, he told himself. You stretch it out, give it to them a piece at a time, you’re gonna be fine. Fat Mike or Tran will come through for you.
And then he was going to find that Marine sergeant and blow his candle out.
32
›› Intensive Care Unit
›› Presbyterian Hospital
›› Charlotte, North Carolina
›› 1402 Hours
“What are you doing?”
“I’m getting out of bed,” Shel said. “It’s what you do when you choose not to sleep all day. Like some people I could name.” He pulled the IV stand toward him.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to get out of bed.” Don pushed himself up from the chair.
Suddenly light-headed, Shel hesitated for a moment. He breathed slowly and steadily till the feeling passed. Then he disconnected the sensors attached to the adhesive pads stuck to his chest and pulled off the finger sensor.
The machines immediately chirped for attention.
“The nurse is going to know,” Don said.
“If you would stop being such an Eeyore,” Shel complained as some of the pain hit him, “we might be able to make an escape before the nurse comes to investigate.”
“You’re going to get into trouble.”
“Not if we hurry. And they don’t build Marine-size trouble here.”
“ I’m going to get into trouble.”
Shel chuckled. “If I hadn’t gotten you into trouble when we were kids, you would have turned out boring. You wouldn’t have anything to talk about in church.”
“We didn’t get into any real trouble.”
“ This isn’t any real trouble.”
“Says you,” Don told him. “All you have to do is fake being in pain and they’ll leave you alone.”
“Tell them you came after me as soon as you found out I was gone. I’ll back you up.”
“You’re not going to be able to escape. You’re decrepit.”
“I’ll warm up.” Shel used the IV stand as a crutch and got to his feet. He was actually amazed to find that he could stand on his own.
“You’re going to fall flat on your face.”
“When I do, you can tell me that you told me so then. At the moment, a little more help with the escape, please.” Shel started to shuffle off.
“Hey,” Don called. “Wait.”
“I don’t have time to wait. Escaping’s more of an active thing.”
