“What other terms?” Of course. “Milo wants money, too? How much?”
Wiki gritted his teeth, his eyes pleading. “Jason, you’re going to cost me my job. They didn’t even tell me. I only overheard—”
“How much!”
“Twenty million, and out of the country.”
“They’ll give it to him, won’t they? I’ll give them everything I have.” I thought of the smoldering ruins of the house. The business worth zero. “Anything in the bank accounts, and I can try to borrow—” I stopped when I realized. “Wait, I know what else they want. They want a photo from Gitmo.”
Wiki frowned, confused. “What are you talking about?”
“They want to cover up for Ricks.”
“Cover up what?”
“I’ll explain later.” I had a random thought. “What about Moonie?”
Wiki blinked. “Oh, Moonie.”
I groaned, pained. “Oh no. What about him? Is he hurt?”
“I don’t know, I forgot about him. I think he ran away. He must have—”
“You think? Don’t you know? I would’ve thought Ethan would’ve taken him.”
Wiki shook his head, his eyes on the road. “I only saw part of the surveillance video. I don’t remember seeing the dog. I assumed he ran away.”
“Ethan loves that dog. I love that dog—” I looked around reflexively, as if Moonie would come running up. We were on a single-lane asphalt road, flanked by marshland. The sky was darkening fast.
“I’m sorry. I’ll find the dog later. He’ll probably go back to the house.”
“But you’ve been there all day. Did you see him? Did you even try—” I didn’t finish the sentence, it sounded silly. Lucinda and Ethan were more important than Moonie. Still. “I’m surprised the dog would run away. He’d be aggressive, like on Coldstream. He’s even been aggressive with me.”
“You can’t tell what a dog will do in an emergency.”
“That’s true,” I said, masking a newly uneasy sensation. I couldn’t imagine Ethan leaving Moonie behind. Moonie wouldn’t allow himself to be left behind. We were crossing a single-lane bridge over a narrow river. There was a fishing boat in the distance. Wherever we were going seemed deserted. I began to doubt Wiki was taking me to a safe house full of FBI agents.
“Sorry about Moonie. I was worried about you and everybody. I’ll call animal control when we get to the house. Maybe somebody turned him in.”
“Okay.”
Wiki glanced at the dashboard clock. “You’ll feel better when you meet the team. They’re impressive.”
“You’re right.” I pretended to ease back into the seat. “I need to calm down.”
“Lucinda and Ethan are going to be okay.”
“They have to be.” My thoughts raced. My gun was in my car. Wiki was armed. I could see the bulge under his black polo, on his right hip. “How far away did you say we are?”
“About twenty minutes.”
“Thank God.” I had to do something. I tried to act natural. “Poor Lucinda. She must’ve been so scared. Ethan, too.”
“I know. But Dom was with her. He’ll take care of them.”
“Will he? He messed up once already.”
“He won’t again.”
“I guess you’re right,” I said, bracing myself for action.
“I know I’m right, and—” Wiki started to say, but suddenly I grabbed the steering wheel and wrenched it downward.
Steering the Tahoe off the road.
Chapter Fifty-Four
“No!” Wiki shouted, shocked. The Tahoe swerved wildly downward into the muddy shoulder.
I reached for his gun with my left hand, a split second before he reacted the same way. His right hand clamped over my left, but I gripped the handle of the gun through his polo shirt.
The Tahoe lurched to a stop, jostling us both. I struggled to hold on to the gun. The Tahoe slid in the mud, tilting crazily to the driver’s side. I fell toward Wiki, caught by my seat belt.
“Let go or I’ll shoot!” I curled my index finger through the trigger guard.
“No!” Wiki shouted back. The Tahoe sunk into the muddy water at the shoreline. Frantically, Wiki unbuckled his seat belt with his left hand.
I punched him in the face. His head whipped backward. His grip on the gun released. I wrenched it from its holster and scrambled to free it from his polo shirt.
Wiki caught my hand, trying to pull it off the gun. We struggled. The Tahoe sunk deeper into the water. I held on to the gun with all my might.
Wiki hit me with a roundhouse left, connecting. My cheek exploded in pain. I squeezed the trigger involuntarily.
The gun went off. The report deafened me. Wiki yelled something I couldn’t hear. Blood spurted from his upper thigh. The Tahoe halted its off-kilter descent. The engine stopped.
I scrambled out of the Tahoe, with Wiki behind. He shoved me into the mucky water, then lunged after me. He landed on me, punching me in the head. I struggled to hit him back, torqueing right and left to shake him off.
I swallowed water, gulping silt. I held my breath but couldn’t much longer.
I swam for the surface, bobbing up. Wiki pushed me under. I punched him in the stomach. He doubled slightly.
I popped up, gasping, just in time to see him lunging at me. I raised my hand with the gun and brought it down on his head. Wiki landed on me, forcing me underwater.
I held my breath. I kept my arms up, pistol-whipping him again and again. I was running out of air. I martialed my strength and fought back. I tried not to panic. I felt Wiki let go.
I popped back to the surface. I coughed, gasping. Wiki slipped under the surface, his head bleeding. He began to sink, unconscious.
I grabbed him by the shirt. The deadweight carried me downward. I treaded water frantically. I looped my arm under his neck so he stayed above water.
I looked around to orient myself. The shoreline glistened darkly, thirty feet away. The Tahoe was only partially submerged.
I swam for shore, gasping for air, my heart pounding. Every few strokes I went under, weighed down by Wiki. I kept the gun out of the water. I didn’t know if it worked anymore.
I paddled to the shore, whacking reeds out of my path with the gun. I found my footing, tangled in the cordgrass. I clawed my way onto the slimy mud, panting. I inhaled and exhaled, recovering my strength.
I dragged Wiki partway onto land and turned him on his side, looking for his phone. I wrenched it out of his back pocket. Blood poured from the gunshot wound. He would bleed, but not to death. I patted him down for other weapons. I didn’t feel any.
I climbed beside him and smacked him. “Wiki, wake up!”
Wiki regained consciousness, groaning.
I drilled the gun into his temple. “You were taking me to Milo. You were gonna let them kill me.”
“They just want you to shut up. They were gonna make a deal.”
“Bullshit! They were gonna kill me.”
“No, no, they would’ve paid—”
“What happened at the house? Where’s Lucinda and Ethan? Tell me or I shoot you, I swear.”
“Dom got them out. He saw them coming.”
“Who? Milo?”