The man greets John with a nod and says very quietly, “This is for you.” He drops a thick, manila envelope onto the counter and waits for a reaction. John’s first thought is that the envelope contains an explosive—an impulse leftover from his time in the service. John now has the predicament of not enough hands to both hold his gun and open the envelope.
“Open it,” John says to the stranger.
“Not here. It’s for you and the boy. A gift from Nightingale.”
This must be the same man John spoke to on the phone a few weeks ago about procuring papers for Bayani, Julien’s inside man. “Thank you,” John says with a furtive nod.
“There’s a phone in there too, a secure line, with only one phone number listed. If you find yourself in need of assistance, call it and ask for Lynx. That’s me.”
The man touches the brim of his hat briefly and leaves as quietly as he came. John gathers the manila envelope and stuffs it under the counter. In case there are eyes on them, he doesn’t want to attract any attention to the exchange. Without John having to instruct him, Bayani picks up on the plan, and they each go about their day as regularly scheduled.
Hours later in the upstairs apartment, Bayani follows John into the walk-in closet in the master bedroom, where John has removed or boxed up every item within its four walls and scoured the 7x10-foot space to make sure there are no bugs or cameras hidden within. He even ripped up the carpet to examine the original wood plank underneath. Now, they sit on the unfinished floor and inventory the envelope’s contents—passports, driver’s licenses, and social security cards, not only for Bayani but for John too. New identities so the Hand can’t trace them. There is a burner phone with a charger as well. The phone is already juiced and as promised, there is one number programmed into it, presumably that of the mysterious man named Lynx. John has lingering questions as to why Nightingale or this stranger would help him, but concludes that the day will come soon enough when he must repay the debt.
John retrieves a duffle bag and packs a few changes of clothes for Bayani along with fresh toiletries and a wallet containing several prepaid credit cards. There is also the burner phone John purchased a while back that he stuffs inside. John has already memorized its number.
“I want you to go somewhere far from here,”John signs to the boy. “Don’t tell me where. Keep the phone charged. I’ll call you when it’s safe, and we’ll make a plan to meet up.”
Bayani, eyes wide, glances from the duffle bag to John’s face and signs one word, “No.”
“Yes. This is the plan.”
“I’m not leaving you,”Bayani insists.
“Only for a little while.”
Bayani’s mouth is set in a firm frown. “I’m not leaving you, John. You can’t make me.”
John is searching for the right argument to convince Bayani this is the best plan of action when the burner phone between them suddenly starts chirping. John braces for the explosion, for the blinding flash of light and unbearable pain to follow, to find his limbs and Bayani’s too, blasted from their bodies. He waits for the chaos, but when it doesn’t come, he clears his throat and reaches out with a trembling hand to answer the phone.
“Hello?” John says shakily.
“Are you in a secure place?” the voice on the other end asks. John recognizes the sultry tone and vaguely European accent as belonging to Julien.
“Yes.”
“I’ll be by late tonight with averyspecial delivery. This job requires discretion. Have the boy meet me at the back door when I text.”
“Why him?” John asks, hackles raised and ready to throw down.”
“Because I want to meet him.”
“Too fucking bad.”
“Reciprocity, John. Trust that I wouldn’t go through the trouble if it weren’t important to me. Keep this phone on you. I’ll be in touch.”
“If this is some kind of—”
John doesn’t have the opportunity to finish. The assassin has hung up.
12
BAYANI
John is nothappy about Bayani greeting one of John’s “customers” for a special delivery and makes it known to Bayani more than once.
“The man is an assassin,”John signs, “a clever, dangerous person. I don’t trust him.”
“He got us papers,”Bayani reminds him.
