Damn it, what was he talking about?
“No, Andrew,” she said. “They obviously don’t know that. And unless you want the Bureau of Prisons to remove all the extra safeguards I’ve fought to have installed for your protection, you better help me out here.”
“They wouldn’t hurt me,” he said. “They wouldn’t.”
He was wobbling. She could feel it. One more solid punch.
She stood. “It looks like we’re going to find out.” She turned and smacked her palm against the door. “Guard! We’re done here.”
The guard’s face appeared behind the glass square.
“Wait!” Schrader said.
She kept her back to him. “Like hell. You’ve wasted enough of my time.”
“Tell them . . . if anything happens to me . . .”
There was a loud metallic clack as the guard turned the lock. The door opened.
“Just wait!” Schrader said again.
Diaz glanced back at him, then at the guard. “Give us a minute.”
The guard seemed to be resisting the urge to roll his eyes. But he left, locking the door behind him.
Diaz turned back to Schrader but stayed on her feet. “If anything happens to you, what?”
Schrader stared at her, his expression both frightened and petulant. “They know. They know what will happen.”
“You said you want me to tell them something.”
“They already know.”
“They do? That’s great. Then you don’t need all the protection. We’ll remove the cameras. The extra guards. You’ll be fine.”
“If something happens to me, it all comes out. They know. They know.”
“What comes out?”
“All of it.”
“All of what?”
“They know.”
“Who knows?”
“All of them.”
“I don’t have time for games.” She turned back toward the door.
He pounded the table. His manacles clanked. “Wait!” he said again.
She turned to him. “Last chance, Andrew.”
“The things they’re saying about me,” he said, his eyes pleading. “It’s not . . . it isn’t fair. They all know it isn’t fair.”
“Who are you talking about?”
“Everyone. Everyone in the videos.”
chapter
twenty-one
MANUS
Manus, Dox, and Larison had parked the van in the lot of a Puyallup Costco, forty-five minutes south of Seattle. Dox and Larison were in the back seats facing forward; Manus sat on his backpack facing them on top of the folded-down middle seats. Manus was fine with the arrangement. He needed to see their faces to understand them. And tactically, it was better to have them both in sight.
While they’d waited for Larison to get the van, Dox had made a call. He stayed facing Manus while he spoke. Manus wasn’t sure, but he sensed it was out of courtesy, so Manus could read his lips. Most hearing people forgot to do that. Manus wondered if this guy had spent time with deaf people. If not, he had good instincts.
“I’ll make it quick,” Dox had said. “On the one hand, things went well. We made contact and established rapport.” At this, he smiled at Manus. “On the other hand, while we were there, six operators showed up and tried to gun us down. They’re all dead now. You’ll be seeing it on the news soon enough.”