I whispered into the phone again.
'I don't see anything, Myers.'
'They'll hold in place until we get there, but they'll have to move. You'll see them.'
I told him where I was hiding.
'Okay, I'm at the drive where he said to turn. I'm making the turn.'
Light swept between two hangars, and then the limousine emerged and turned toward me. They were fifty yards away. Maybe sixty.
The limousine stopped.
I said, 'I'm right in front of you.'
'Copy. We're getting out. We have to call him now.' 'Don't hurry. Wait.'
The limousine sat with its engine running and lights on. From the end of the trailer I saw all of the ramp and the taxiway and most of the service road that ran along the south side of the airport. Everything was quiet.
'We're getting out. I'm putting in my earpiece so I can hear you. You see something, you tell me, goddamnit.'
The passenger door opened, and Myers stepped out. He stood by himself alongside the car.
I checked the roofline and service road again, looking for the telltale bump of a human head or the bulge of a shoulder, but saw nothing. I watched the shadows at the base of the ramp, and saw still more nothing.
The third fuel truck from the end of the row flicked its lights.
I said, 'Myers.'
His voice came back low.
'I got it. Richard's calling the number.'
I strained hard to see inside the truck but it was dark with shadows and too far away. I took out my gun and trained it on the truck's grill. The grip was slippery. I would put down the phone as soon as I saw Ben. My aim was better with both hands.
I said, 'Tell him to get out with Ben. Make him show Ben.'
303
Pike would have moved up on the far side. He would be closer than me and have a better position. He was a better shot.
Myers's soft voice came through again.
'Richard's talking to him. Richard's getting out to show the money. He wants to see the bags.'
'Don't do that, Myers. Make him show Ben.' 'Richard's scared.'
'Myers, make him show Ben. I don't see Ben.' 'Ben's on the phone.'
'That's not good enough. You have to see him.'
'Keep your eyes on that fucking truck. Richard's flashing the money.'
The limo's back door opened. Myers helped Richard out with the two bags, and then they looked at the truck. Three million dollars is heavy, and five had to look still heavier.
I heard Myers whisper, 'C'mon, you fucker.'
The truck lights flicked again. All of us waited. All of us stared at the truck.
Twenty feet behind Richard and Myers, a shadow moved between the oil drums that were stacked at the mouth of the hangar. I caught the movement as Myers turned. Schilling and Mazi surged out of the shadows with their pistols up and ready. I had stared at those oil
drums again and again, but I had seen nothing.
I yelled, 'MYERS!'
Their hands exploded like tiny suns, flashbulbing their faces with red light. Myers went down. They kept shooting him until they reached the money, and then they fired at Richard. He fell backwards into the car.
I fired two fast shots, then turned for the fuel truck, screaming. I expected the truck to rumble to life or shots to come from the darkness, but none of that happened. I
PIKE
sprinted as hard as I could, shouting Ben's name.
Behind me, Schilling and Mazi heaved the money into the limo and got in with it.
Pike ran onto the ramp from the far side of the trucks and fired as the limo squealed away. All of us had thought that they would approach and leave in their own vehicle, but they didn't; the limo was their getaway, just as they'd planned.
I ran low and hard all the way to the truck, but I knew before I reached it that the truck was empty and always had been. Fallon had rigged the lights with a remote. He was someplace else, and Ben was still with him.
I spun back around, but the limo was gone.
Pike thought, they're beating us. These people are so damned good that they're beating us.
