“Impossible. His leg was broken. In a splint.”
“Ask your wife.” The creepy smile returns, the one that started me down this rabbit hole, and my fist clenches.You want to play games, dude?
“Jack, let me in.” Grayson pounds on the door, keeping me from doing something I might regret later.
When I open the door, the billionaire eyes Yan. “Is he the kidnapper Blakely didn’t shoot?”
“Yeah. He’s also Joe’s blackmailer.” I hand Grayson the card I’m holding. “He gave up an address.”
“Let’s go.” Grayson types the address into his phone.
“Should we inform the FBI?”Last I saw the deputy director, he had a heavy woman on his arm near the smores. I can’t believe he’s not here already.
My boss shakes his head, no. “By the time they get a warrant, Zheng will have had time to do damage control. Let’s just check things out here, first.”
We walk Yan down the hall, into a kitchen filled with stainless steel, and squeeze between the chefs to a back entrance. From there, we rush down a set of stairs into a dark alley.
Grayson keeps a gun on Yan as we slip between the two buildings and arrive at an idling SUV. Suds takes the wheel and gives me a grim nod as I climb in next to him.
It takes him about twenty minutes to get us out of Georgetown. Now, cheaper row houses replace the well-kept Victorian brownstones. We enter the world of dumpsters, hookers and drug dealers. Beyond is no man’s land where street lights are always broken and bodies are dumped unceremoniously.
“This is the address.” My SEAL buddy glances across the front seat with a dubious look. “You should really wait for backup.”
When I recognize the drone buzzing overhead, I point. “There’s Patten’s I-52A. It’s got night vision and a camera that can spot a fly from a mile away.”
While we stare, Grayson finishes his conversation and puts his cell phone back in his pocket.
“Slate says we’re good to go.” My boss opens the trunk and hands me a headset along with a pair of bolt cutters.
“Test. Test.” I speak into the mic and Slate responds, “Loud and clear.”
Then, we all head to the chain link fence topped with barbed wire. Squatting, I cut a hole and hold it open wide so we all can climb through.
Inside the perimeter, Suds follows some wires leading to an electrical box and snips. When the outside lights go dark, he says, “We probably got about fifteen minutes before someone shows.”
Rushing to the garage-like door, I cut the padlock and roll up the metal gate. Grayson follows, his flashlight beam flying around the inside of the room. Finally, his beam rests on a stack of cardboard boxes with the words fragile printed on every side.
I grab a blade out of my pocket, slit one open, and hold a glass bottle in front of Yan. “What is this?”
“Fentanyl? Flu vaccine? Who knows?” Yan has one eye glued to the door with that fucking grin glued to his face.
My God, what did we walk into?I exchange a worried glance with my boss while Yan chuckles. “You Americans have created the perfect pipeline. Zheng ships his product and exchanges it for placebo when packaging it into little vials.”
Grayson grabs the bottle from me. “Which is this? Fentanyl or placebo?”
“How would I know?” His eyes dart about as he shifts his weight from one leg to the other.He knows they’re coming.
Grayson speaks into his comm unit. “Did you get what he said on video?”
Slate’s answer comes back in our headsets. “Copy that. The Feds have kicked out the CIA and we got a couple more of our guys on the way.”
We’re past the fifteen-minute mark when two of Patten’s men exit their vehicles. Highly armed, and vested, they move forward as one, back-to-back with guns raised.
“Over here.” Grayson gets them up to speed while I keep an eye on the over-confident Yan.
Suddenly, engines race, tires squeal and automatics fire with a rat-ta-tat.
“Fun’s about to start.” Suds pulls me to cover behind the doorframe.
