“Ah, our names begin with the same letter.”
He laughed as though she had said something notably witty. She offered her hand and they shook.
“Thank you for coming out, Larry,” she said, for the benefit of the team. “I really appreciate your help.”
If he was attending to the monitors at all, with any luck the guard in the other booth would be focused on the one displaying Delilah. And why not? Guard work was boring. Watching your companion make time with a blonde in a Porsche would be a welcome distraction. Dox would need only a moment to get past the cameras, at which point he’d be at the second guard booth.
“Of course. But, the thing is, Laure, I can’t really help you with this. Mr. Grimble has people who manage his schedule and such.”
“And what do you do?”
“I’m just one of the guards. You know, I watch out for intruders. Trespassers, that kind of thing.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “I hope you don’t think I am one.”
She heard John in the earpiece. “Dox is past the cameras.”
Larry laughed. “No, of course not. I mean, maybe technically. But people stop in front of my post all the time. The mail, deliveries. Not so many journalists, though.”
“I’m right outside the booth,” she heard Dox say quietly. “Say the word and I’ll leap into remarkable action.”
“Now,” Delilah said.
Larry cocked his head at the non sequitur. In the earpiece, she heard Dox say, “Don’t go for your weapon. Don’t go for your mic. Just slowly raise your hands, ’cause I’ll shoot you if you don’t.”
She heard footsteps behind her, moving quickly. Larry looked. His mouth dropped open.
“Do not move or I will kill you,” she heard Larison say.
She glanced back and saw him moving in smoothly, his gun up in a two-handed grip just below his chin, the attached suppressor intimidatingly long. “If you reach for anything,” he continued, “including that push-to-talk button on your shirt, I’ll shoot you in the face. Do you understand?”
Larry blinked. “What the hell is this?”
Larison stopped ten feet out. “It’s an opportunity for you to stay alive.”
She heard John issuing instructions—prone out, facedown, hands behind your back. He and the rest of the team were in the other booth.
Larry’s eyes were wide, and focused completely on the muzzle of the suppresser, which Delilah knew from experience he was currently perceiving as roughly the circumference of the opening of a cannon. She slipped behind him, unfastened his holster, and removed the gun. Larry seemed almost unaware of it.
“Do you want to stay alive, Larry?” Larison said.
“Yes,” Larry said, as Delilah eased the gun into the tote.
“Good,” Larison said. “Then you’ll comply with all my instructions. Can I count on you to do that?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Raise your hands high. Palms forward, fingers splayed.”
Larry complied.
Delilah unclipped Larry’s microphone, pulled out his earpiece, and detached his belt radio. She disconnected the microphone from the radio and placed both in her tote. “Maya, Evie,” she said. “We’re ready for you.”
She tried to insert Larry’s earpiece into her free ear. It was too big. She grimaced and pushed harder. No good. She pulled off the silicone tip and replaced it with a smaller one from her bag. Just right. She couldn’t help but smile. John had made them walk through everything, hitting every assumption with a barrage of What if possibilities. He did micromanage. But on the other hand, he was the one who had asked, What if the guard’s earpiece is too big?