“Don’t try anything.”
Wray didn’t answer.
“I said, don’t try anything.”
His only response was to point toward a set of drawers on a rolling stand twenty feet away. “It’s over there.”
“Why there? Why is it even in this warehouse?”
“To keep it safe,” Wray answered vaguely. “Here, I’ll go get it.”
“I’ll get it.” They were ten feet from the drawer, and Fred motioned for him to stop walking. “Which drawer?”
“Second from the top.”
Fred waved him away. “Get back.”
Wray retreated four steps until he was standing between a steel water tank and one of the cluttered workbenches. He had his hands raised slightly in the air to reassure Fred that he wasn’t a threat.
Fred’s phone rang.
The ringtone told him it was the man who was blackmailing him. He was going to demand the files.
Which Fred did not yet have.
He opened the drawer, kept his eyes on Wray, but when he felt around inside there was only a jumble of hand tools.
The phone rang again.
In desperation, Fred glanced into the drawer, and that must have been what Wray was waiting for, because he snatched something off the counter and threw it toward Fred.
Even in the large room the explosion was deafening. A burst of smoke poofed into the air and Fred struggled to grab a breath, and by the time the air had cleared Wray had already ducked out of sight.
The phone continued to ring.
Answer it!
No, don’t. Get Wray.
Fred didn’t know what to do. On the one hand he didn’t want to upset the guy by not picking up, but on the other hand he had nothing to tell him.
He’ll release the pictures.
No, not if you get the files in the next couple minutes. You can call him back. Find Wray!
Fred did not answer the phone.
At last it stopped ringing and he called out, “I will shoot you if you don’t give me the files!”
No reply, apart from the blunt echo of his words bouncing off the walls.
The warehouse was so full of magic equipment that Wray could be just about anywhere.
Fred cautiously glanced toward the pegboard to see if Wray had gone for a weapon, but it didn’t appear that any were missing. He crossed the room toward the warehouse’s entrance to block it off so Wray couldn’t sneak away.
“Who sent you?” It was Wray’s voice, but with the echo Fred couldn’t tell where it was coming from.
“I’m telling you—”
“Don’t move. I have a crossbow aimed at your back.”
Fred felt a cold clamp of fear.
“Get rid of the gun,” Wray called.
No, no, no, don’t.
“Listen to me,” Fred replied hastily. “I don’t want to hurt you, but—”
A crossbow bolt whizzed past him and embedded into a wooden crate about ten feet in front of him.
“Get rid of the gun.”
Fred’s heart was hammering.
You can’t let those photos go public. You’ll lose your job, you might go to jail.
But the fear of getting a crossbow bolt in the back overrode the fear of what might or might not happen in the future.
You were never going to shoot him. Not really. This isn’t you. You’re not a killer.
He threw the gun away, and it clattered against the concrete and slid fifteen feet away.
“Who sent you?” Wray’s voice sounded closer, and Fred could only imagine that he’d stepped out of hiding to get a better shot.
Fred really didn’t know what to say, but before he could make up something threatening or intimidating, the truth slipped out. “I don’t know. He has photos. Damaging ones. Of me. He said if I didn’t recover the drive he would release them.”
There, he’d laid it out. Now he would have to face the consequences, but at least he wouldn’t be caught up in doing anything violent, anything that went against his deepest convictions.
He might end up in jail, but at least he wouldn’t end up a killer.
“You drive a 2012 white Chevy Silverado.” Wray’s voice sounded like it was coming from maybe ten feet behind him.
“Yes.”
“You’re a Cammo dude.”
Fred hesitated. “Yes.”
“Turn around.”
Fred did.
Wray was only a few steps away and had the crossbow aimed directly at his chest. What he said completely took Fred by surprise: “I won’t press charges for kidnapping if you help us.”
“Help you do what?”
“Find out what we need to from Area 51.”
The pictures will get released!
But then again, if Wray knew what the files contained and if he helped him with this deal with Area 51, maybe something would lead back to the guy who was blackmailing him.
There was no way to tell, but what was worse, having the photos released or being charged with armed kidnapping?
“Alright. What do you need to know?”
Access Codes
The police arrest Tomás and take him away.
The officers interview me, but Charlene and two other people who have stepped out of their motel rooms as witnesses confirm my account of what happened — that Tomás came at me with the knives, and I was forced to defend myself. Even the officer who cuffed me agrees that things played out that way.
While he doesn’t sound too convinced that Emilio was murdered, he promises that he’ll follow up on it.
Although I suspect that I might be in deep trouble, thankfully the officers don’t hassle me much. However, they do tell me that they want me to come with them to the station.
When I ask if we could take care of it in the morning, they inform me in no uncertain terms that it will be best to take care of it tonight.
“We’ll give you a ride back home when we’re done.” The officer is filling out paperwork already, even as she’s speaking with me.
“I can come along, take you home?” Charlene offers, but I encourage her to head back to the house and fill Fionna in on what’s been going on.
“Just to the Arête parking garage will be fine,” I tell the officer. “My car is still there.”
After explaining to Charlene that I’ll see her back at home, I ride with the police to the Las Vegas Police Department.
It doesn’t take long to answer the officers’ questions, and in the end they have me sign some forms and I give my official statement. Thankfully, it doesn’t look like they’re going to take me to task any more about the fight.
I overhear them talking about their arrival at the motel. Apparently, after they caught Tomás they figured out that the phone call to his room had come from the front desk, and when they questioned the guy working there, he gave up that Agcaoili had paid him fifty dollars to call in case any cops showed up at the motel.
So, Solomon had kept his word and had refrained from warning Agcaoili. Regardless of what criminal activities he might be involved in, telling the truth really did seem to matter to him.
After we leave the interrogation room and they return my phone to me, I notice a text from Xavier that I should call him ASAP.
There’s also a text from Fionna that she finished decoding the USB drive: “You’re not going to believe what I found.”
As they shuttle me to my car they finally let me make some calls to my friends, and I reach Xavier, who’s made it home and is with Fionna and Charlene.