He made it to the Escalade soaked in sweat, having run the two miles in brutal desert heat, pouring water from a quart container over his head every hundred yards. Rachel drove off the second he closed the passenger side door. They were nearly a quarter mile down the road when the van exploded. Nick had been watching for it. With the magnesium flares, he figured it would burn white hot until nothing of any consequence was left.
“Can you give me about an hour, and then I’ll take over for you?” Nick reclined his seat.
“Oh sure, I do all the hard work and you sleep it off,” Rachel deadpanned.
“I’ll make it up to you later, Nikita,” he promised, his eyes already closed.
Nearly an hour later he woke up, looking around tensely. He relaxed when Rachel smiled over at him.
“What the hell! You have a built in timer or something?”
“Inner clock-perfected over the years.” Nick stretched. He looked back at Jean and Deke. Jean sat with her head against the seat, sleeping soundly, while Deke lay across her lap. “Want to make a pit stop and get something to eat?”
“I was hoping you’d say that. A sign we passed just before you woke up claimed there’s gas, food and lodging up ahead about five miles. How far did you want to go today?”
“Flagstaff, if we can. The guy I questioned convinced me they were selling the drives to a rival outfit called Fletcher Exports. If those guys were independents then we’ve bought some time. We’ll make Sarasota ahead of schedule. We needed more work in the desert before pulling off what we have ahead, but it can’t be helped now.”
“Do you think there are any more free lancers out there?”
“I’m sure of it. As long as we keep on the move, I think we’ll be okay. Hooking up with Suzan was a blessing and curse. She nearly killed us all, but if we can get together with her husband once we retrieve the flash drives, our bargaining position will be greatly improved. I better call her, and then Grace.”
Nick pulled his satellite phone from the bag at his feet. He called Suzan on the throwaway cell-phone he’d given her. She answered a moment later. “It’s over, Suzan. You can take the kids home. Our deal’s still on, but we won’t be seeing you until the drives are in our hands. It probably won’t matter, but did anyone see those guys visiting your place yesterday?”
“I can’t say for sure. They came after dark. They’re really…gone for good?”
“No more surprise visits,” Nick told her. “Will your husband be coming home on time?”
“Yes, he called earlier.”
“I’ll give you a call this weekend sometime after you get a chance to talk with him.”
“Okay, thank you.”
“You bet.” Nick hung up. He called Grace next. She answered the phone without setting off a red light. “We’re on the move, Grace. The timetable may have been moved up a bit. Are we still dealing?”
“It’s a go, Nick. They’re not all happy but, surprisingly, the Attorney General is. He’s suspected there was a lot more to all this. He’s very happy with our progress-considering how little of it you’ve worked with us to achieve. Can I talk to Rachel?”
“Sure, but make it quick. She’s driving, and cell phone usage by the driver is against the law.”
“Hand her the phone, wise guy.”
“She wants to talk to you.” He handed Rachel the phone.
“Hello, Grace,” Rachel greeted the Marshall, as she turned the Escalade onto an off ramp leading to the gas, food and lodging she had seen advertised on a sign earlier.
“Listen closely, Rachel. Don’t reply,” Grace urged. “Nick’s a killer. He’s some kind of psychopathic hit-man according to all the rumors flying around. We’re not sure if he does it under some pseudo government network authorization, but we know he’s not some innocent novelist. You and Jean need to get free of him, Rachel. When you do, call me, and I’ll help you deal with the flash drives.”
“I’m sorry for putting you and Tim through all this. What you just outlined will never happen. Nick’s already saved our lives a few times on this damned excursion.” Rachel glanced over at Nick, who was looking straight ahead.
“Damn it, Rachel! Use your head! How the hell do you know he won’t waste you all the moment he has those flash drives?”
“I just do.”
“You’re in love with him, aren’t you, dummy?” The tenor of Grace’s voice betrayed her anger. “Think of Jean.”
“I am thinking of Jean. Nick’s our best shot at being free again.”
“With harps and clouds maybe.”
“Are we done?”
“Think it over care -”
Rachel handed the phone to Nick. “Hang it up for me, Nick.”
Nick disconnected. “She trying to sell you the sell out?”
“Yep. Grace thinks you have it in mind to get the flash drives and bury the rest of us in the desert.”
“The only thing the flash drives mean to me is a chance at having you, Jean, and Deke in my life on a permanent basis. I have money. What the hell does Grace think I’m going to do with the flash drives?”
“She thinks you’re a cold blooded psychopath without a conscience and you’d do it just for the power trip.”
“Oh, well sure, there’s that, but I’m a nice guy when you ignore those small flaws.”
“I feel better.” Nick sat down at the table with Rachel and Jean.
“You smell a little fresher.” Rachel sniffed toward Nick, earning a quick head slap.
“You try running full speed for a couple miles in the desert and then -”
“Sleep your time away to a restaurant,” Rachel quickly filled in for him while Jean giggled at her two adult companions. “I think the clean t-shirt helps the most.”
“After washing up, I went out to give Deke some water and dropped the foul smelling thing off in the back. Did they take the order already?”
Rachel nodded. “I didn’t order the food yet, but I did order our drinks. She’ll be bringing us coffee and -”
“A milkshake,” Jean piped in proudly.
Nick laughed. “She conned you again, huh?”
“Miss smarty-pants pointed out we could wind up dead anytime, so it’s kind of stupid to worry about her diet right now.”
Nick quit laughing abruptly, looking over at Jean. “Not funny.”
“I got a milkshake out of it.”
The dark-haired waitress in her middle thirties served their beverages, smiling at Nick appraisingly while setting the drinks down. “Have I seen you around here before, Sir?”
“I get that a lot.” Nick smiled back. She doesn’t look the type to be a fan of Diego, but Grace didn’t either. “This is our first time visiting Ash Fork though.”
“You look familiar, but it’s been a long day. I’m probably a little batty. Are you folks ready to order?”
“We’ll have your special.” Rachel wagged a warning finger at Jean.
“Make it three.” Nick handed the menus to the waitress.
The waitress paused after taking the menus. “I can’t think who you remind me of, but-I know this sounds goofy-are you someone famous?”
“Roscoe Weatherby,” Nick said, holding out his hand to the waitress with a friendly smile. “I’m only famous, or infamous, as the case may be, to my wife and daughter here.”
The waitress chuckled, shaking his hand. “Terry Jenkins. You look a lot like Brad Pitt.”