Cliff Ryder - The Finish Line

Maggie shot him a sidelong glance out of narrowed eyes. "I may be a thief, but I'm no killer. Besides, I couldn't have gotten out of there without you, so I certainly wasn't going to repay the favor by leaving you in an unconscious heap by the side of the road."

"I appreciate the thought." David's words came out without a hint of irony or sarcasm.

"You're welcome."

"Of course, you know I still need to continue my mission — bringing you in," he said.

The car swerved toward the shoulder. "Well, then, that hospitality could be rescinded at any time. You may be some kind of hot-shit government agent, but I doubt you'd be able to put up that much of a struggle," she said.

That's closer to the truth than you know, David thought. His side wound had clotted, but still ached, sending pain all through his chest. His shoulder was worse, however, stiffening a lot and rendering his entire arm pretty much useless. He was sure he could take her if necessary — hell, he could probably still overpower her if he was in a body cast — but there was no need to rock the car right now. He was sure Room 59 was tracking him, so she'd be brought into the fold regardless — she just didn't know it yet. Best just to let her think she's got the upper hand at the moment.

"So what makes you think these people you're meeting can help you more than I can?" he asked.

"Let's just say I have an aversion to organized anything, whether it's government or crime."

"The ultimate freelancer, eh?"

"Yup."

"The question still stands, particularly in light of what happened earlier."

"My friends prefer evasion to shooting people or trying to blow them up. Once I'm with them, we'll disappear, and go off where no one will be able to find me, electronically or otherwise," Maggie said.

"Good idea, if you can pull it off. So you're a thief, eh?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

"Hey, I'm just making conversation. So what'd you steal that's got everyone so hot and bothered over you?"

She frowned at him for a moment. "Are you serious?"

He nodded.

"What are you, like, some kind of killer mushroom?"

Now it was David's turn to frown. "I don't follow."

"Do your superiors keep you in the dark all the time and feed you lots of shit?"

He chuckled at the analogy. "No, not all the time. But you say you're a thief, yet you're hanging out with ecoterrorists. They don't have a lot to steal — unless you like diseases, I suppose."

"No, I'm a data thief. System hacker, that sort of thing. The greenies were just a cover, they were conveniently located next to where my bro — where I did a job."

David thought about the Wyvil Road house for a moment and he had difficulty wrapping his mind around it. "But the nearest target with any data worth having is — MI-6."

"I can neither confirm nor deny that statement." Maggie actually smiled for a fleeting second. "Isn't that what you government types say when you want to tell the world something but can't?"

"I've never had the opportunity to use it myself. So the guys chasing you — they're not MI-6 security. They wouldn't have cleansed the house — they would have arrested everyone there. They know you have what you have because…" he blinked again at the realization "…they hired you to do it?"

"Maybe you should have been a detective instead of a hired gun. You seem to have the knack for it."

"So, what happened? Is the adage true — no honor among thieves?"

Maggie looked over, and the ferocity on her face startled him. "You're lucky I'm driving. Otherwise I'd slap that look off your face. I've already lost more on this job than any amount of money can replace." She took a deep breath and collected herself, bringing the now racing car back down to the speed limit. "Even with my experience, the job was much more difficult and time-consuming than expected, leading us to invoke the additional-expenses clause in our contract. Our employer chose to disagree, and tried to enforce their decision with those assholes at the house and train stations."

David noticed the change to plural, but continued the conversation. "They almost succeeded, too. What makes you think they aren't still after you?"

"I've been keeping an eye out for tails, and haven't seen anything behind us. Besides, we gave those guys the slip at the hospital. I can't possibly see how they'd find us again."

"If I had my phone, I could make sure of that. I could scan for bugs, tracking devices, that sort of thing. That guy might have planted something on you in the station."

"Not likely. He was too busy trying to get me outside," she said.

"Do you mind if I take a look at your computer bag anyway?" David asked.

"I don't see any reason," she said.

"Humor me. Besides, it will keep me occupied during the trip."

She sighed. "Very well, but don't open it."

Turning awkwardly in the bucket seat, David managed to retrieve the case from the backseat of the car with a minimum of jostling to his wounded shoulder. It was a simple padded nylon case, with plenty of pockets on the exterior to hold just about anything a computer geek — or hacker — would need. David examined the pockets first, carefully emptying them and running his free hand along every inch of the interior. He next turned his attention to the case's exterior, and after a long examination, found what he was looking for, embedded in the nylon near one of the plastic feet the case rested on when it was set down.

"You mean he couldn't have planted something like this?" he said.

The item he held up was no bigger than a grain of rice, and matte black, to blend into the case's surface. It had a little claw that would hook into just about anything. David found it was surprisingly difficult to remove.

Maggie peered at the black speck in his palm. "Is that what I think it is?"

"If you think it's a tracking device, you're right." David rolled down the window and opened his hand, pitching the tiny bug outside. "When you have a chance, I'd suggest getting rid of all your clothes and that case and scanning your computer, in case they were able to plant a program in it, as well."

"That I know they didn't do — my firewall is impossible to crack. Nobody gets inside but me."

"Maybe so, but doing the rest of it wouldn't hurt — preferably, before we arrive wherever it is we're going."

"Why are you so helpful all of a sudden?" Maggie asked.

Because I already know who's going to win this round, and it isn't going to be you, or those other guys, he thought. "Because I want to show you that I can help you — out of this situation, maybe even out of this life you're in. If you want me to."

"Here, we can stop here and change." Maggie pulled off the highway at a small town. "But no phone calls. In fact, I think you'll stay here in the car altogether."

"If you insist. I suggest leaving the engine running — it would be much harder for me to hotwire it with a bum arm."

"At least I know you won't take off on me," she said.

"I could leave you stranded here, you know," he replied.

Her level gaze met his. "You could, but I don't think you will."

The corner of David's mouth quirked up a passable half smile. "We'll never know. Here." He held out a folded sheaf of Euros. "Find me something loose and comfortable. A hooded, zip-up sweatshirt would be fine. And a belt to sling my arm."

Maggie looked from the money to his eyes, her brows narrowing with suspicion.

"Go on, it's fine. If you're really running off the grid, you can't have much, and you need to change out of that outfit."

"Are you saying you don't like it?"

"Somehow I see you wearing something more tasteful in your everyday life."

With a final squint at him, as if trying to see if he was putting her on, she snatched the banknotes from his hand and also took the laptop case from him. "Thanks."