My former supervisor, impeccable in whatever she wears, shoots me a smile. “Money will exchange hands, deals will be made, and a panic will be averted. Any other commentary, the government will cover up and downgrade to a conspiracy theory.”
“Too bad we don’t have a memory zapper thingy like inMen in Black.”
“Who says we don’t?” Her smirk is so convincing, I can’t tell if she’s kidding. While I try to decide, our chauffeur halts because there’s a guy standing in the middle of the road. It can’t be, and yet, it is. Farid’s evil grimace appears behind an AK. Screaming, I tug Calliope James to the floor.
Our windshield must be bulletproof because after a round of bullets, we’re still alive.
Cursing, my ex runs in the opposite direction. As our driver returns fire, Callie snatches our latest prototype from our purse and aims it at our assailant. After she presses the trigger, the man who would see us murdered, crumples to the pavement.
Bill cuffs him, hands him off to another agent, then slides under the wheel. “Wicked shot, ma’am. Can I ask what kind of weapon you used?”
“Well, I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” After studying the genius inventor’s deadpan face, the chauffeur nods, nonplussed.
“Copy that. UFO. Unidentified Firing Object.”
Chapter 32
We humans fear the beast within the wolf because we do not understand the beast within ourselves.~Gerald Hausman
Axel
Lucky and I lay flat on the itchy dune grass in the quiet of twilight. The ocean laps at the shore, a lone seagull cries, and the drone’s pilot curses as he lifts the plane into the bed of his black Ford pickup.
Zach, the FBI’s SWAT team leader, sounds in my headset. “ETA two minutes. We’ve arrived at the park entrance.”
Deputy Director Trescher adds, “Don’t let the suspect out of your sight, and for God’s sake, don’t shoot him, Wulf.”
Responding, I click my mic once and brace for action.
C’mon, c’mon.
The truck driver’s side door opens, and as he’s about to hop in, I aim Gwen’s sci-fi-like blaster.
While I take a deep breath, bright headlamps light up the parking lot, and a female voice shouts, “FBI! Show us your hands.”
Three fast blinks later, I regain my vision. Still in my crosshairs, the pilot leans into the front seat. Dammit. He’s reaching for a weapon.Suicide by cop? Not on my watch.As he bends his knee to swivel, I fire, and he crumples onto the sand.
“Goodonya, mate.” Lucky punches me in the arm and grins.
“I hope so.” While I pray the stun setting worked and I didn’t kill the asshole, the armed team inches forward.
The closest agent kicks a pistol from the pilot’s hand as another places a finger on his neck.
“He’s alive.” Once they lower their barrels, I speak into my chest. “Are we clear to approach?”
The guy in charge waves us to them. “Sure, come join the party.”
Rising to our feet, we brush off pine needles and stroll to the downed man.
“You blokes must’ve scared the piss out of him.” Lucky toes the body, and while the rest chuckle at his lame joke, I squat.
The Middle Eastern man rolls onto his back and as he grins, unease overcomes me. What the fuck does this guy find so amusing?
My chest tight, I consider the possibilities. “Lochlan, can a drone’s return-home feature be disabled?”
Before my friend can respond, Zach chimes in, “Yeah, we do it all the time, but only if we have no choice. You can easily lose your bird, and these things are expensive.”
Is it possible our enemies played us for fools? Shaken, I tap my mic. “Deputy Director, where is Congressman Rhinesmith?”
