“There’s still one problem—” Owen said.
“Only one?”
Owen didn’t smile. “You know who set us up?”
—
So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours that James Thompson had slipped Wells’s mind. “Moss Laughton’s good buddy Jimbo. And the driver.” Wells fought fever and exhaustion for the name. “Suggs.”
“Scott, too,” Hailey said.
Scott. Wells hadn’t put that piece together. “You sure.”
“He was yelling for Suggs when Wizard attacked the camp,” Owen said. “He knew Suggs was there even though none of us had seen him.”
“But we all think James sold Scott on the idea,” Gwen said.
“He has to pay,” Owen said.
A couple years back, Wells had tried to rescue another hostage. The man ultimately responsible for that kidnapping was still free. He lived in Saudi Arabia, protected, cosseted, unimaginably wealthy. Unless he made the mistake of leaving the kingdom without his bodyguards, Wells couldn’t touch him.
This time Wells would have justice. “A Kenyan jail would do for him nicely,” Wells said. “He’d be lucky to last a year.”
“That works,” Hailey said.
“What if the Kenyans decide they don’t want to go near it?” Owen said. “What evidence do we have for them?”
“Not much,” Wells said.
“We can’t take that chance,” Owen said. “Will you take care of him? Let him get back to Houston, let it all die down, and in a few months stuff him in a swamp somewhere?”
“Down on the Cancer Coast? Awful quiet resting place for a man who likes to talk as much as Jimmy.” Wells imagined what he’d do in nursery-rhyme form:
And that’s how we commit murder one, boys and girls! Assassination was a line Wells had never crossed, but he supposed Gwen and Hailey and Owen had earned the right to ask. James had killed his nephew as sure as if he’d put the pistol to Scott’s chest.
“You sure about this? All three of you?”
“No,” Gwen said. “I won’t.”
“Won’t what?” Owen said.
“No more eye-for-an-eye. He goes to prison.” Her voice quiet but firm. “Mr. Wells said we had to agree. And I don’t.”
“All right,” Wells said. “That’s out, then.” He felt an unexpected relief.
“How do you propose we make sure he goes to jail?” Owen said.
“We make him confess—”
“Brilliant, Gwennie.
“Let me finish,” Gwen said. “We
“As of yesterday,” Wells said.
“And tell him that Scott confessed before he got shot, that we all three heard it. And he’s got two choices. Either he gives himself up to the FBI—here, not in Houston—and goes back home in their custody, or we make sure the Kenyans arrest him.”
Silence, as they worked through the plan.
“What do you think?” Hailey said to Wells.
“You better get the story straight before you see him. But I think if you stick to it, all three of you, he’ll believe you. Since he knows the truth, too.”
“Owen,” Gwen said.
Owen shifted in his seat to look at her. Pain slanted his face but it couldn’t hide the surprise underneath. “Who are you, and what have you done with Gwen Murphy?”
“Is that a yes or a no?”
“All right. You win.”
And that was that.
—
“One other thing,” Gwen said.
“What’s that?”
“About Wizard and the deal you made. He promised to set us free if you helped him with the attack.”
“Yes.”
“So did he lie? Was he planning to keep us?”
Wells wanted to lie, but she deserved the truth. He couldn’t doubt the bond that she and Wizard had formed in the last twenty-four hours, however strange it might seem.
“I think he meant to set you free. He was double-crossing me, planning to hold me hostage.”
He caught her gorgeous ice-blue eyes in the rearview mirror. He couldn’t tell if she was disappointed in him, Wizard, or the world.
“It never ends, does it?” she said.
“It hasn’t yet.”
—
Considering what had happened to his leg, it only seemed fair that Owen would get to speak to his parents first. Gwen and Hailey played rock-paper-scissors to see who would be next. Hailey won. Gwen waited.
She closed her eyes and imagined what she’d say to her mother and father and sister, the shock in their voices. Until finally she heard Hailey say, “Mom. We only have one phone and it’s Gwen’s turn . . . Okay. I love you. I love you so much.”
The phone was slick with Hailey’s tears. Gwen took it, laid it carefully on her lap. Her fingers trembled as she punched in the numbers and heard the ring—
—
At Langley, Tomaso had focused on the main battle area until he launched the last two Hellfires. By the time he turned the cameras to the field’s west edge, Wells was speeding off in the Rover, leaving two corpses in the dirt. Shafer had always known what Wells could do. Seeing it, even on a monitor seven thousand miles away, was another matter. One Somali’s throat had been hacked nearly in half. The other had a knife so deep in his back that it seemed to be part of his body.
“It’s almost a miracle that he hasn’t gone insane,” Shafer said.
“You think he’s not insane.”
“You’re lucky he likes you, Vinny.”
“He likes me?”
“No.”
“Looks like he has all three hostages with him. Should I follow them or go back to the battlefield?” Tomaso said.
“Follow them,” Shafer said. “I’m worried Wizard will come after him.”
“Makes no difference.”
“I don’t know if you’ve gotten entirely senile, Ellis, but we’ve got no Hellfires left. No way to stop that technical.”
“Don’t need a Hellfire. We’ve got the Reaper.”
Tomaso understood first. “Dive-bomb it into the technical. I like it.”
But the White Men didn’t chase the Rover. Maybe Wizard didn’t want to challenge the Reaper. So they had nothing to do but watch as the big SUV bounced west toward the border. No need for a compass or GPS. Just keep
