Matthew Dunn - Spycatcher

The man glanced up, his eyes widened, and he looked very scared. “Are you the man they want?”

Will pointed his gun at the man’s head and took measured steps forward. “Maybe. Are you armed?”

The man shook his head. “Do I look like the type of person to carry a gun?”

“No, you don’t.”

The man briefly looked over his shoulder before looking at Will. He was breathing fast. “I imagine that you came here to get on a flight out of Saranac Lake. But there won’t be any flights now while the local police think you’re still at large within their jurisdiction.”

Will nodded. “I need your car, your cell phone, and the keys to this building.”

The man appeared to be on the verge of panic. “If you take those things, I’ll have to try to walk back to the village with no means of letting anyone know where I am.”

“That’s the idea.”

The man looked up at the sky. “I’m overweight and unfit, and in this weather I’m not sure I’d make it. I’ll probably freeze to death.” He looked at Will in total panic. “Is. . is that what you want?”

Of course the man was right. He was middle-aged, at least forty pounds overweight, and looked as though he’d dressed in a hurry and with no intention of spending more time than he needed away from his home or his heated SUV. Will kept his gun trained on the man. “Throw me your cell phone.”

The man reached into a breast pocket, pulled out his cell, and tossed it onto the ground by Will’s feet. Will slammed the heel of a boot onto the phone, smashing it into pieces. “Stand up and walk two paces away from your vehicle.”

The man hesitated for a moment before standing. “Please don’t do this.” One of his legs was shaking. “Please. I’ll die.”

Will kept his gun pointed at the man and slowly walked around the vehicle until he was by the front passenger door. “You will if you stand there. Get back into the car. You’re going to drive me out of here.”

Will entered the vehicle and gripped his gun over his lap, pointing at the driver’s seat. The man entered, exhaled loudly, looked at Will, and turned the key in the ignition. He drove the car forward.

They moved out of the airport complex toward Route 186. When they reached the end of the airport road, the man stopped the vehicle and asked, “Where are we going?”

“Anywhere away from Saranac Lake.” Will looked at the driver. “But I do need to head south.”

The man looked to his left along Route 186. “Then we’ll have to drive through the village.”

Will quickly placed his gun against the man’s temple and said nothing.

The man glanced sideways but did not move his head. He looked terrified and spoke rapidly. “We can take a different route. We can go right instead, go southwest on one eighty-six and thirty so that we’re traveling on the west side of Upper Saranac Lake.”

Will held the gun still for a moment before lowering the weapon. “All right.”

The man swung the SUV right so that it was on 186. Will frowned in thought. “What did the police officers say to you?”

“You saw them with me?”

Will nodded.

The man breathed in deeply as he drove. “They said that they were looking for an extremely dangerous man. They said that they were guarding another two very dangerous men at the Adirondack Medical Center. They said they were getting early reports that something very big had happened near one of the lakes.”

Not good. Will had hoped that darkness and the severe weather would delay the police from finding out what had happened at Lower Saranac Lake until the morning. “How many cops will have been drafted into this area to look for me?”

The man wiped his brow. “How would I know? I’m not in law enforcement.”

Will shouted, “No, but you run an airport, which will have very close links to the emergency services! You’ll have some idea!”

The man’s eyes widened, and he nodded quickly. “We had an incident a year back. The pilot of one of our planes radioed ahead that a passenger was acting suspiciously, that there were concerns he was a terrorist. We told the pilot to keep his course toward our airport. We also told the police, and within forty-five minutes they had thirty-five men and twenty vehicles encircling the airport. Most of them had been called in from the neighboring towns.”

Will glanced at the speedometer and asked, “Is this route well used?”

The man shook his head. “Most traffic will go via Saranac Lake. I doubt we’ll see many vehicles on this road at this time of night.”

“Then drive faster.”

The man accelerated. The car was now quite warm, and Will could feel his clothes defrosting.

The man asked in a strained voice, “What should I say if we’re stopped by the police?”

“If we’re stopped by the police, you won’t have to say anything, because by that time it will be too late for words.”

The man darted a look at him. “Who are you?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Well, I can tell that you’re not from around here.”

Will pressed his gun hard into the man’s flabby belly. “Just drive.”

There were no road lights on the route. Windshield wipers were straining to try to combat the snowfall, and the car’s headlights were their only guide on the lonely road. Soon they were traveling beside a very large lake, which Will saw from road signs was Upper Saranac.

Will looked at the man. “Have you got a map of the state?”

The man nodded toward the dashboard. “My GPS is the best route finder.”

“That’s no good to me. I just need a map.”

“There should be one in the glove compartment.”

Will opened the compartment and found the map. He studied it for a while and made a decision. “You’re going to drive me to Albany.”

The man shook his head. “In this weather that could take up to three hours.”

“You’d better drive quickly, then.” Will rubbed his face and felt his muscles and skin tingle as coldness within them was replaced with warmth. “What time are you expected home?”

The man shrugged. “In my line of work, I’m often called out at odd times and I often have to stay out for chunks of time.” He smiled a little. “I run an airport. Many things go wrong.” He glanced at Will. “I’m not going to lie to you and say that my wife will call the police unless I’m back soon.”

Will studied the man. He knew that someone would have to be smart to do the job he did, that he would be rapidly assessing Will and his situation just as Will was now assessing him, that the man had just told him the truth because he’d decided that Will would have spotted a lie, and that the man had decided to cooperate with him in full so that he could stay alive and return home safely. But he wondered if the man now suspected that Will was not a criminal, that something unusual was happening in this part of the country.

Will said quietly, “I have no intention of hurting you. Just get me to Albany, leave me there, and go home.”

The man chuckled, although he still sounded nervous. “You know I’ll call the cops once you’re gone.”

Will nodded. “Of course you will.”

They drove for an hour and saw no other vehicles on the road. They drove for another hour and during that time saw only three vehicles pass them from the opposite direction, but all of them looked normal. Forest and mountains and occasional strips of water straddled their route. Everywhere looked uninhabited.

Will checked his watch. It was now 3:00 A.M. He asked, “How long before we reach Albany?”

“We’ve made good time. I’d say another twenty to thirty minutes.” The man glanced quickly at his rearview mirror and frowned before returning his eyes to the road ahead.