“What’s going on?” I ask.
“It’d be better if we explained it all in person.”
“Don’t leave me hanging here, Xav.”
“It’s Area 51. I think we can get inside.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“I’ll tell you everything when you get here.”
“Fionna texted me that she found out something.”
“I’ll let her explain that in person. How long till you arrive?”
“Fifteen minutes, maybe twenty.”
“We’ll explain it all then.”
On the way home I process everything.
The police officer witnessed Tomás attack me with the knives, so I figure they’ll charge him with aggravated assault, at least, if not attempted murder. Even though Ambassador Whitehead and the FBI, and even the officers from this morning after the break-in at Emilio’s, promised to look into things, none of them was very convincing.
Even if they don’t follow through like we’d been hoping they would, I imagine that at this point Tomás will be facing serious jail time. And at least now all the information about what happened in the Philippines would come out.
We also know something we didn’t know this afternoon.
Akinsanya is somehow a part of all this.
But how? With the connection to RixoTray, it does seem to make sense, but what does it have to do with Emilio? And how does Area 51 work into the equation?
All those things are intimately tied in with my friend’s death, and I can’t imagine that I’m going to feel any real closure on this until I get a few more answers.
Certainly that USB drive figured into everything as well. Whatever information it held might just untangle some of what was going on.
Last year Akinsanya, a skilled sniper, faked an accident that took the lives of several suicide bombers in order to help set up an assassination attempt. From all we know about him, he is a master of misdirection.
Right before he died, a contract killer had warned me that Akinsanya would find me. I had no way of telling if that was an idle threat, if Akinsanya was still interested in finding me or not, but now I can’t put those words out of my mind.
There’s a car I don’t recognize in my driveway.
Inside the dining room I find Fionna, Charlene, and Xavier waiting for me.
There’s also a man I don’t know sitting at the table drinking a Sprite. He’s wiry and scruffy, with dirty blond hair and anxious eyes. There’s sweat on his forehead even though it’s not unreasonably hot in here. I take a seat. “And you are?”
“This is my new friend, Fred Anders,” Xavier answers for him. “He’s a Cammo dude. And he’s on our side.”
Fred nods. His hand is shaking slightly as he takes a drink from his soda.
Apparently, Xavier has already shared the story of his night with Fionna and Charlene, but they patiently sit through it again as he fills me in. Fred fidgets nervously the whole time.
The crossbow is from an effect Xavier designed where Charlene shoots it at me and I catch the bolt in my hand — well, at least it looks to the audience like I do.
“You shot a crossbow bolt at him? Seriously?”
“Not at him,” Xavier clarifies. “Near him.”
Fred speaks for the first time. “Sure seemed like it was at me to me.”
“I could have shot it closer. I have pretty good aim.”
“Everyone does from ten feet,” he grumbles.
Xavier reaches down and picks up the crossbow.
“Whoa,” I say. “You brought it with you?”
“You never know when you might need a crossbow on hand.”
“Put that thing down,” Fionna exhorts him with a motherly scold. “Before someone gets hurt. Right now you’re treading on thin water.”
He obeys.
Fred adds some details to Xavier’s account, telling us about the blackmailer. He asks pointedly if we can help find out who the person is.
I can’t help but suspect that Akinsanya might very well be behind all this. “What is he threatening to release?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Look, if we’re going to help you, we need to know what this is all about. We can’t get tangled up in something that’s going to put anyone else in danger.”
“Or us in jail,” Fionna interjects.
At last Fred gives in. “Photos.”
“Of what?” I ask.
“Of…” I can tell this is really hard for him. “A hotel room. What happened there.”
“And that was?”
“There were drugs.”
He pauses. I sense he’s not done. “And?”
“And a photo of a driver’s license.”
“Go on.”
“Of a girl.”
I can guess where this is going. “Underage?”
He shakes his head in exasperation. “I swear I don’t even remember her coming back to the room with me. I met a woman at the bar, yes. We talked, but I’m telling you, I went back to my room alone. And she looked old enough to be there. She was drinking, for goodness’ sake.”
“And when you woke up the next day?”
“Everything was there in the room. Cocaine, meth, a pair of nylons, and some panties. I got rid of everything, but then this morning printouts of the photos were waiting for me in my mailbox.” He stares at us one at a time, gauging how much we’re buying his story. “You have to believe me.”
“Actually,” Fionna says, “no we don’t.”
“All a setup?” It’s Xavier.
“Well, all I know,” answers Fred, “is that those photos can’t get released. I’d lose my job for sure, maybe even go to prison if the girl comes forward to testify.”
“Your word against hers,” I note.
“But she’s got the pictures on her side.”
“True.” I sort things through. “When did all this happen?”
“I was at the hotel last night.”
That was fast. This blackmailer didn’t mess around.
“The day after Emilio was killed,” Charlene says softly.
“Who’s Emilio?” he asks.
There isn’t time to get into all that right now, so I wave off his question. “Later. For now, it sure looks like you were set up, and the timing fits in with the rest of what’s going on. So, for now I’ll tell you what — we’ll do what we can to keep those photos private, and by the way all of this is interconnected, I’d say there’s at least a chance we can help in that regard.” I think again of Solomon, that he might have information about this blackmailer, but I don’t want to visit him again. I have the sense that it would be pushing our luck.
Solomon?
Akinsanya?
Another criminal who’s even more connected?
My mind is buzzing with way too many questions that have way too few answers.
We turn our attention to Fionna.
Again, this seems like a review for everyone else, but they bear with her as she says to me, “While you were chasing Agcaoili and Xavier was shooting crossbow bolts near Fred—”
“At Fred,” interjects Fred.
“Near,” Xavier replies.
“At.”
“Enough, boys,” Fionna chides them. “Anyway, while you two were at the warehouse, I figured out what’s on the USB drive: work schedules, access codes, and shift change information for a private security firm. The one that takes care of the security at—”
“Groom Lake,” Xavier interrupts excitedly. He nods toward our guest. “Fred’s already confirmed it. The info is legit.”
They seem to have granted the guy who abducted Xavier at gunpoint an awful lot of trust already.
“Hang on.” Something isn’t quite clicking here. “Fred, if you can confirm the codes and so on, why would this blackmailer need the drive? Why couldn’t he just get those details from you?”