“I like it.”
“It’s the best we’ve got. I’ll bounce him to a place of our choosing farther down the road. And that’s where I’ll be.”
Forty-Six
McNeal slowed as he drove past the abandoned gas station. It was a relic from the sixties. Faded Pepsi ads peeled off the windows. He looked to his left and saw bean fields. Somewhere down there perched his brother. He checked the luminous display on his dashboard. It showed 3:23.
He drove on for about a mile.
A few moments later, his cell phone vibrated. A text from Peter.
Porsche Carrera with one male driver just pulled in.
McNeal’s heart beat hard as he drove on. Up ahead, beside a telephone pole, a dirt road had been illuminated by pale moonlight. He turned there, down the bone-dry, rutted earth road. The bean field seemed to go on forever. The middle of nowhere. This was good.
He stopped and switched off his lights.
He had perfect sight to the old gas station just over a mile away, the lights of the Porsche visible.
McNeal texted Graff. Pick up the pay phone when it rings. He then called the number. It rang for nearly a minute before it was picked up.
“Jack?”
“Turn off your lights. Leave your keys on the passenger seat.”
“Why?”
“This is how we’re going to work it. You’re going to walk a mile on the path adjacent to the road until you get to a dirt road marked by a telephone pole. You walk up that dirt road. I’ll be waiting for you.”
McNeal ended the call. A few moments later he got a text from his brother. Our guy hung up the phone. He’s walking.
He replied, I’m in position. Dirt road, one mile out of town. Turn into it. That’s where I am. Follow with lights off. But also find a spot behind the gas station to get Graff’s car out of sight soon. Keys on passenger seat.
He took out the unlicensed Glock. There was no safety on the gun. He was locked and loaded.
Twelve minutes later, the sound of heavy footsteps approached. McNeal crouched behind his car.
A silhouetted figure came into view, slowly approaching, as if tentative.
“I’m alone.” The voice of Graff.
McNeal stood up, gun aimed at Graff’s head. “Nice of you to turn up.”
“Easy there,” he said. “Well, this is an out-of-the-way spot. I think I played in these fields as a boy.”
McNeal leaned forward and expertly frisked Graff. He found a handgun and put it in his pocket. “Nothing personal, Graff. I like to know who I’m dealing with. Hands on head. Slowly.” He found a cell phone in a trouser pocket. A new Nokia. Face recognition. He shoved the cell phone in front of Graff’s face, and it unlocked. He tapped in a new passcode. He took a step back, gun still trained on the imposing man, both cloaked in darkness.
Graff put his hands on his head.
McNeal scrolled through the contacts. He saw Nicoletti’s number. He committed it to memory. “You wanted to talk. So, talk.”
Graff turned slightly. “This is not a trap.”
“We’ll see.”
“I know you hate me. And I don’t blame you for hating me. I would if I was in your shoes.”
“Cut the bullshit.”
“I’m here to help you stay alive but also to help you get some closure.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Life comes at us in sudden, violent, unexpected ways. I wish I could turn the clock back. But that’s the way of the world, I guess.”
“Listen here, you bastard. Cut the psychobabble. Talk. Why are you here? Are we talking remorse? You double-crossing someone? Or are you setting me up? Which one is it?”
“There are highly trained individuals who were tasked with taking you out after stopping you on the highway if you had continued down that route.”
“Who are they? And where are they now?”
“Former CIA operatives. They’re in position close to Calverton. Traffic stop. I’ve bought you some time. But they are on their way. A two-man team.”
McNeal didn’t know what to believe. He couldn’t trust Graff. But he sensed the man might, on this occasion, be telling the truth. Or maybe part of the truth. But it was only part of the jigsaw.
“That’s what I wanted to tell you. That’s why I’m here.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“You have no reason to believe me. I understand that.”
McNeal searched around, seeing if Graff was waiting for backup to arrive. He braced himself for an ambush. “Let’s pretend that what you’re saying is true. Why on God’s earth are you telling me?”