He leans closer and grazes my forehead with his lips. “But we made it.”
There’s a swift knock at the door. It opens and Morrison walks in, all business as usual. He’s carrying a folder and wearing the same cheap suit he always wears. His expression is different, though. Less predatory, more respectful.
“Christensen. Good to see you awake,” he says with a grin. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I got shot.”
“Yep. Doing something incredibly stupid and incredibly brave.” He sets the folder on the bedside table. “The recordingsyou made are going to put Viktor Petrov and Mikhail Volkov away for the rest of their lives. Them and about twenty other people in their organization.”
I relax against the pillow. “Good.”
“We found records of game fixes going back fifteen years. Players in six different cities, hundreds of games, millions of dollars in illegal gambling profits. Your recordings broke the whole thing open.”
“What about the players they corrupted?”
“Most of them were coerced, same as you were. We’re working out immunity deals for anyone who cooperates with the investigation.”
“And the ones who won’t cooperate?”
He shrugs. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. But the important thing is that the organization is finished. They won’t be threatening anyone else’s family, they won’t be corrupting any more games.”
“What about me? Am I going to face charges for what I did in Detroit?”
“What charges? As far as I’m concerned, you were an undercover asset working to bring down a criminal organization. Everything you did was in service of that investigation.” He winks.
Morrison heads for the door and then stops to turn around.
“Oh, one more thing, Christensen.”
“What?”
“Thank you. What you did took balls of steel. You saved a lot of people from going through what you went through.”
He leaves, and I’m alone with Tate again.
“So,” Tate says. “It’s really over.”
“It’s really over.”
“And we’re really okay.”
“We’re really okay.”
“Good. Because my parents are very anxious to meet you.”
“Really?”
Tate nods. “Yup. They want to thank you. For protecting me, for taking down the syndicate, for being willing to die for me.”
“I didn’t die.”
“No, you didn’t. But you were willing to, and that means something to them.”
“It means something to me, too.”
“Oh, yeah? What?”
“It means I get to keep you.”
