Karen Whiddon - Mission - Marriage

Not a good strategy for staying alive. Still, Sean cautiously approached, cursing his rapidly increasing sense of apprehension.

“Are there ducks in the pond?” Sean asked, using the prearranged phrase.

The man looked up. His eyes were such a bright blue they had to be colored contacts. “Ducks in the pond, ducks in the sky. They even fly in the rain.”

The right answer. Still, Sean knew better than to relax. The informant, with his bright, darting eyes and facial tic appeared strung-out. His rumpled clothing and mussed hair indicated he hadn’t slept in days. The musty odor emanating from him confirmed it. Meth addict.

Natalie moved closer to Sean. A reflex action, made without thinking, no doubt, but such a small thing pleased him.

The informant noticed. “I’ve been down for a while,” he said, scowling. “This job ain’t easy, you know.”

Being a snitch was a difficult—and messy—way to earn cash. Only desperate men attempted to take on such a job. If word got out, death awaited. If you were lucky, they’d put a bullet in your head and you’d die swiftly. Not so lucky, and who knew what limbs they’d remove? Sean had heard of one informant who’d become an organ donor—while still alive.

No, being a snitch wasn’t for the faint of heart. Most had a drug habit or some other overwhelming compulsion that needed feeding. From the looks of this guy, it was the same old story.

“What do you have for us?” Sean didn’t bother to conceal the impatience in his tone. Sometimes junkies looking for their next fix tried to exchange false information or, worse, no information, for cash, then run.

No way in hell was he letting that happen. The stakes were far too high.

Perspiring profusely, even though the damp air carried a chill, the man held out his grungy hand. “Money first.”

Right. “I’m not paying you until I see what you’ve got.”

“Oh, all right.” Instead of handing over information, the informant took off running.

Damn it. His gut instincts had been right.

“Setup!” Sean pushed Natalie to the ground, tensing as he waited for the sound of gunfire or an explosion.

Instead, there was only the gentle sound of the rain and the distant murmur of traffic.

“He didn’t have anything.” Sean didn’t bother to hide his disgust. “If he was going to go to all this trouble, I would have thought he’d have had more of a backup plan. Either way, he’s long gone now.”

Ignoring his outstretched hand, Natalie struggled to her feet on her own. “Look.” She pointed.

What he saw didn’t really surprise him.

Their informant stood at the edge of the path, maybe fifty feet away, watching them. When he saw them looking, he crooked his hand, telling them to follow, and proceeded walking, back toward the business area where they’d parked.

“This guy’s an amateur. He wants us to follow him. To where a trap awaits, no doubt. How much more obvious can he be?”

“But Sean, if they were going to spring a trap, this would be the perfect place for it.” She waved her hand at the deserted park. “No witnesses, no innocent bystanders to get in the way. Maybe he’s legit.”

“And pigs can fly. Come on, Nat. You know better.”

“Look, they have my dad.” She set her chin in that stubborn way of hers that he knew so well. “I’m going to take any chance I can to find him. I’m following the guy.”

“Fine.” Grudgingly, he conceded. “But we keep a good distance between us and him and bail at the first sight of anything dangerous, agreed?”

“Agreed.” She moved forward.

Keeping back fifty feet, they followed.

When they reached the sidewalk, they saw the man enter a small coffee shop.

They exchanged a look.

“What do you think?” Sean asked. “Do we follow him?”

“We have so far. We should be safe in there. And maybe he does have something useful to tell us.”

“Somehow I rather doubt it.”

“Me, too, but you never know.”

“Let’s go then.” He took her arm and they crossed the street.

Once inside, they saw he was already seated, sipping from a paper cup of coffee. He motioned them to chairs.

“We’d rather stand,” Sean told him.

He shook his head. “Not an option.”

“Listen here, buddy,” Natalie began furiously.

The informant opened his coat.

What they saw made them both freeze.

The man had been wired with explosives.

“That’s right.” He smirked, but there was no amusement in his face, only tired resignation. “So I suggest you do as I say.”

If he triggered the bomb, he’d blow up not only himself and them, but everyone inside the coffee shop.

Of course, they couldn’t allow this to happen.

“What do you want?” Sean asked.

The man looked at Natalie. “The code. Hand it over.”

Maintaining eye contact, she looked puzzled. “What code?”

“Don’t play stupid. We know you have it.”

Just like that, she abandoned the pretense. “There are only three or four people who know about that. How’d you find out?”

“Looks like you told a snitch,” he sneered. “Someone like me. Maybe you’d better take another look at your friends. Hand it over.”

She spread her hands. “I don’t have it with me.”

The man actually snarled. “Then take me to wherever you’ve hidden it.”

Sean knew that Natalie did have the flash drive in her backpack. And there was no way in hell he was letting her go off alone with this walking bomb.

“Give it to him,” he told her, earning a sharp look of disgust.

The man looked from one to the other, finally settling his gaze on Natalie. “Better do as your man says. Unless you want me to blow this place sky-high.”

Natalie didn’t move. “Go ahead.”

The man blinked. “What?”

“I said, go ahead. Detonate your bomb. I don’t care. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t just shoot me and be done with it.”

Good question. Sean crossed his arms, waiting. He knew there was no way she’d let this man take out so many innocent civilians. For now, he’d follow along with her plan, whatever it might be.

Goggling at her, the informant shook his head. “Are you crazy or what?”

“No, I’m not crazy. But I’m not giving you the info. So, either detonate your explosives, or not. I don’t care either way.”

The lie in her voice was plain to Sean, but the stranger didn’t know her. Beginning to sweat, he looked at Sean.

“Talk some sense into her, man. You don’t want all these people to die.”

That remark told Sean that Natalie’s plan would work. The informant didn’t want to be blown to bits either.

“I’m guessing you don’t want to die either,” he said. “Come on, Natalie. Let’s get out of here.”

Together, they walked toward the exit. At the door, Natalie turned and faced the still-stunned man. “Tell whoever sent you that I won’t be bullied.”

The stranger followed them outside to the back alley, muttering under his breath. “Come on, man, they’re going to kill me.”

Sean shrugged. “Better than killing yourself. Go crawl back into whatever hole you came from.”

“Wait.” Natalie stepped forward. “Are those even real explosives?”

The man shrugged. “I don’t know. They gave me six hundred pounds to put this thing on. Promised me another grand if I brought them the info.”

“Where?” Sean demanded. “When and where were you supposed to meet them?”

Sweat rolling down his face, the man blurted out an address.

“I know the area,” Natalie said. “Bad part of town.”

“Of course.”

“I don’t get it,” Natalie continued. “They only ask for the coded message. What good will it do them?”