“All right.”
Howell lowered the phone. Clewes was parked behind a Mobil station down the street. He would be here in seconds.
“Okay, Talley, they’re on the way.”
“I want more than just seeing them. I won’t give you the disk until I have them.”
“I understand.”
Howell heard the car before he saw it. Clewes wheeled to a stop in the empty space next to the Mustang, the nose of his car framed dead-center in the open door. The woman, Jane, was in the passenger seat. The daughter was in the rear. They were both tied, their mouths taped.
Howell saw Talley move slightly toward the door and his wife, then catch himself before looking back at Howell.
“Tell him to get out of the car.”
Howell raised the phone.
“Marion?”
Outside, Clewes lifted his own phone. They could see each other clearly through the open door.
“Yes, sir?”
“Aim your gun at the woman’s head.”
MARION CLEWES
The world was comfortable here within Marion’s car, which still held that yummy new-car smell; with the windows up, the engine idling, and the air-conditioning blowing softly, Marion could hear only the two women crying and the voice in his ear. He took no pleasure in their tears.
“Yes, sir.”
Marion had his orders. Just as Glen Howell’s job was to recover the disks, Marion knew exactly what he was supposed to do and when he was supposed to do it. It was all about doing your job, being rewarded if you succeeded, being punished if you failed. Success or failure were defined by the disks.
Marion raised his gun to the mother’s head. She trembled, and clenched her eyes. Behind her, in the backseat, the daughter moaned loudly.
Marion smiled warmly, trying to lend comfort, even as he watched the events within the motel.
“Don’t worry, ladies. You’ll be fine.”
His gun did not waver from its mark.
TALLEY
The world collapsed to an automobile only ten steps away. Talley saw everything happening inside the car with a clarity so great it seemed unreaclass="underline" The man behind the wheel touched a small black pistol to Jane’s temple. Glistening tears spilled from Jane’s eyes. In the backseat, Amanda rocked from side to side, also crying.
Talley screamed, “NO!”
Howell kept the phone to his mouth, speaking to Talley but also the man in the car.
“Give me the second disk or he’ll kill your wife.”
“NO!”
Talley jerked his gun to the man in the car but was scared that the angle of the windshield would deflect his shot. This wasn’t like when Neil Craimont had killed the man holding a gun to Talley’s head at the day-care center; the man in the car was surrounded by glass. An accurate shot could not be guaranteed. Talley jerked his aim back at Howell. Everything was suddenly wrong; everything that he was trying to do had gone to hell.
Howell was winning.
“I’ll kill you, Howell! You’ll never get the disk!”
“He’ll kill your wife, but your daughter will still be alive. Are you listening to this, Marion?”
Talley saw the man behind the wheel nod. Talley shifted his aim again, back to the man in the car.
“I’ll fucking kill you! Can you hear that, you sonofabitch?!”
The man in the car smiled.
Howell spoke reasonably.
“I’ll still have your daughter. Your wife will be dead, but your daughter will be alive. Do you see her there in the car, Talley? But if you shoot me, then he’ll kill your daughter, too. Do you want to lose both of them?”
Talley aimed at the man in the car again. His breath was coming so hard that his gun shook. If he shot low, the bullet would deflect high, but he didn’t know how much; anything short of a perfect shot would cost Jane’s life. If Talley shot at the man in the car, Howell or the man with the big head would shoot him, and then all of them would be dead.
Howell said, “The negotiation is over, Talley. I won.”
Talley glanced at Howell. He measured the shots; first the man in the car, then Howell, lastly the man on the floor. He would have to make all three to save his family. He didn’t think that he could make them.
Howell said, “Drop your gun, and give me the second disk. Give me the disk or he’ll put her brain on the window.”
Talley’s eyes filled because he thought they would all die anyway, but he still had one chance left. One small chance, because Howell and Benza still wanted the disks.
Talley dropped his gun.
The Mustang man jumped out of the way. Howell and the big-headed man charged forward. They scooped up Talley’s gun and shoved him against the wall, pinning him like an insect to a board. Howell searched him even as Talley told him about the second disk.
“It’s in my left front pocket.”
Talley felt numb. Defeated. Outside, the man behind the wheel climbed out of the car and came to the door. Talley watched Amanda and Jane in the car. Jane met his eye, and in that moment he felt buoyed by a tide of love that felt as if it could carry him away.
Howell loaded the disk into the ThinkPad.
Talley watched him open the disk, and took a grim pleasure in watching Howell’s face darken and grow fierce.
“You sonofabitch. This isn’t the disk. This isn’t the second disk! It’s a goddamned blank!”
Talley felt strangely removed from this room and these people. He glanced at Jane again. He smiled at her, the same small smile they had often shared at night when they were alone in bed, and then he turned back to Howell.
“I don’t have the second disk anymore. I gave it to the Sheriffs, and they’re giving it to the FBI. Benza’s over. You’re over. There’s nothing either of us can do.”
Talley watched the disbelief float to the surface of Howell’s face like a great slow bubble.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not lying. We’re done here, Howell. Let us go. Let us go and save yourself the murder charge.”
Howell stood stiffly, like a mechanical man. He lumbered around the bed as if he was in shock, picked up his gun from the floor, and aimed it at Talley.
“Are you out of your mind?”
“I just want to take my family home.”
Howell shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe that this was happening, and then he blinked numbly at the man in the door, the man who had been in the car.
“Kill every one of these people.”
MARION CLEWES
Marion watched as Glen Howell opened the second disk. He was disappointed to see that Talley had tried to fake them out with a false disk, but he had expected as much. Talley was a policeman, after all; Marion had never expected that he would let a man like Sonny Benza walk away, not even with his family being held. In the end, turning over the disk to the proper authorities had been the right thing to do.
“Kill every one of these people.”
It was all about doing your job, being rewarded if you succeeded, being punished if you failed. Success or failure was defined by the disks, and Glen Howell had not recovered the disks.
Marion felt sad about that; he had always liked Glen Howell even though Mr. Howell hadn’t liked him.
Marion had his orders.
Marion lifted his gun.
TALLEY
The man in the door whom Howell had called Marion raised his gun and aimed it squarely at Talley’s face. Marion was a small man, ordinary in appearance, the type of anonymous man who would be invisible in a mall and impossible for witnesses to describe. An Everyman; average height, average weight, brown, brown.
Talley stared into the black hole of the muzzle and braced for the bullet.
“I’m sorry, Jane.”
Marion shifted his gun hard to the side and fired. He adjusted his aim, and fired again, then again. The first bullet took Howell above the right eye, the second the Mustang man dead-center in the left eye, and the third caught the man with the big head in the temple.