Undetectable (Great Minds Thriller) (37 page)

“Please don’t kill me,” the kid blurted out suddenly. His gun was still partly raised, pointing now somewhere between the register and the floor. He seemed to be holding his breath, waiting for Kevin to pump him full of a dozen rounds to the chest. And then one in the head. To make sure.

“Go home,” Kevin repeated, putting more urgency in his voice. “Right now.”

The teenager lowered his gun all the way. He waited another second. When he found himself still alive and standing, he let out a shaky breath and turned around. Then, as if he were worried Kevin might decide at any moment to
shoot
him just out of spite, he went sprinting out of the store like a rabbit.

Alexi and Kevin stood next to each other for a few seconds, neither saying a word. Without taking his eyes off the door, Alexi made a small sound.

An amused sound.

“What?”

“That was a good bluff,” Alexi said.

“Thank you.”

“What if he hadn’t bought it?”

Kevin shrugged. “It’s hard to shoot a Browning GP with accuracy, even with proper training. That gun
kicks
. It can split the webbing of your hand if you’re not holding it the right way. And that kid had no idea how to hold it, let alone how to aim it.”

“He still could have shot you. The bullet has to go somewhere.”

“Right, but it’s a very low probability. And even if he did hit me, I’d still be able to get over there and grapple with him. Disarming is fairly simple at this range, even
when
wounded, and even with minimal contact. Then I’d – ”

“What are you talking about?” Alexi interrupted. The shock of the experience – the relief at having lived through it – was wearing off, and the amusement was gone from his voice. He turned to face Kevin. “Didn’t you hear me? He could have
shot
you.
Or me.
With a
bullet
. What’s this ‘low-probability’ nonsense? Who cares how you disarm him? We could have died. Are you not getting that?”

Kevin watched him silently for a moment, and then he seemed finally to hear the words that Alexi was saying. Seemed finally to grasp the situation as a whole, rather than as an academic exercise.

Jesus, what was I thinking?

“You’re right,” Kevin said.

But then Alexi shook his head. Suddenly he looked ashamed. “You’re in the middle of fixing my freezer, you save me from having to empty my cash register, and I’m yelling at you.”

“No, I understand. It was dangerous.”

Alexi shrugged. “That’s not
your
fault. He brought the gun.”

“True.”

“Anyway, now I owe you.”

“No you don’t.”

“Quiet. I’ll let you slide on the freezer, that’s a nice gesture. But fending off an armed robber is different. That
counts
.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“Even so. What can I give you? Something from the store? It’s stupid, I know. But pick something. Pick ten things, to make me feel better.”

Kevin looked around doubtfully. The idea of walking off with an armload of unpaid-for groceries seemed strange. Seemed not proper, somehow. He felt as if he were being asked to take a piece of furniture away from the man’s house. Still, he made a show of checking in every direction, left and right and behind him, as if he didn’t already know exactly what you could find in a corner delicatessen.

But
then, unbelievably, something on the wall behind the register caught his eye.

I’ll be damned
, he thought.
That’s what I need. Lord knows I’ve got the time. And you’re definitely the guy for this.

The storekeeper followed Kevin’s gaze. When he saw what he was staring at, his eyes lit up. “Yes! That’s me, that’s what I do during the daytime!” He hooted with laughter again, delighted that a means of repayment had been found. “That’s perfect, we can do that!”

Kevin smiled. “Yeah, okay. I work during the week. You have time on a weekend?”

Alexi looked insulted. “Today! This morning is a Saturday, this is a weekend, no? What’s wrong with this morning?”

“You’re working. It’s not morning
yet
.”

“Bah. So you come back in two hours. Six o’clock right here, and then we’ll go together. I’ll take you, show you.
Everything t
he proper way. This is going to be
great
.” He moved his a
rms around in rhythmic circles.

“All right,” Kevin said, relenting. The man’s enthusiasm was infectious. “Let me finish with your freezer. I’ll go home and try to get some rest, and then I’ll be back here at six.”

Alexi nodded energetically. “Yes, good.” Suddenly his eyebrows shot up, and his expression turned mischievous. “Wait a minute, I have a question.”

Kevin paused in the act of crouching. He wanted to get the freezer fixed quickly so that he could get home and finish resting. Reading. Whatever.

“
Why?
” Alexi said, his mouth stretched into a parody of innocent curiosity. “
Why
do you want me to teach you to dance?”

Kevin sighed.

He just wants to hear me say it.

“Because of a girl,” he answered dutifully.

“Yes!” Alexi cried, jabbing the air with a finger. “Yes, always!”

“Okay, enough.”

“
Never
enough
!
”

Kevin shook his head and put himself back on the floor. He returned his attention to the freezer’s main compressor assembly.

“
Yes
!
” Alexi said again.

Do What I’m Telling You

The middle screen on Jacob Savian’s desk made a soft bonging noise. It was 6 AM, time for the morning update. Jacob rubbed his eyes and tried to clear his head. The day before had been a busy one, and George’s cleanup work had kept them both up far later than usual. George had been up because he was patient and methodical, and because he did not cut corners when painting pictures, building prototypes, or disposing of bodies. Jacob had been up simply because many of the tools George had been using – the bone saw, for example – were quite loud. And then there was the question of the chemicals for dissolving, which left a sharp, acrid smell that lingered even after the windows had been kept open for several hours. Which in turn let in the warm, humid air from the Indian Summer they were having, and on and on.

Neither one of them had slept very well. The next morning, George was still in the kitchen area drinking his coffee. Jacob wished he could put everything on hold, wished he could just postpone all of this unpleasantness so that he could go back to thinking about his next programming project. Nothing made him feel better than the start of a new project.

But now matters of business beckoned, important matters, and even though he was feeling confident now – even though he could tell that he was going to win, he knew he was going to nail that Billaud motherfucker right to the wall – he also knew it was important to see everything through to the very end. Which meant no putting things on hold. No breaks. He didn’t care that it was 6 AM on a Saturday, and neither did anyone else. When you were ensuring the future of human ingenuity, you didn’t sleep in.

So Jacob put on a stern expression, leaned forward, and hit the key to establish the connection. The Organizer’s face blipped into view.

“Talk.”

“There were two cops on patrol yesterday. Follow up, the usual.”

“Fine. But nobody did anything
stupid
this time, right?”

“Correct.”

“Any hits on the van plates?”

“Two. And a call to the building-redirect line about the paint job. Everything went smooth. Plates are all solid, they lead to a union lease shop on Staten Island. Guy’s got almost 300 vans, couldn’t keep track of them if he wanted to. Which is perfect. But he’s completely legit. They won’t smell a thing. And the paint-job call went great. They’re checking everything, but we’ve got it covered.”

“Good. What else?”

“We’ve redistributed resources for Friday. To account for…”

The Organizer hesitated.

“We’ve redistributed,” he said again, and left it at that.

Jacob looked away. “You need another man?”

“No, we’re still good. Redundancies were built in already. They know their jobs.”

“All right. And he’s still expected to show up?”

“As far as we know. They’ve still got an escort planned for him out of LaGuardia on Friday morning. Anyway, it’s his kid. He’s big on these things, he’s made that clear every step of the way. Any time he signs up for something – private, government, it doesn’t matter – there’s always language in the contract for time off to g
o see his boy. Friday is parent
s
’
day. He’ll be there.”

Jacob nodded. He knew all of this already, knew it as well as he knew the code that controlled the auto-defibrillator he had modified to kill the Gun, but he liked to hear it repeated back to him. He liked to be sure.

“Talk to me about the secondary.”

The Organizer hesitated again. “For Tuesday, you mean.”

“Of course that’s what I mean. That’s what I
said
to you.
Tuesday
is not a term that requires interpretation, is it?”

“No. But the Planner is having difficulty. The target won’t be
there
on Tuesday. Without understanding the objective, the Planner can’t – ”

“The objective is the same,” Jacob interrupted. He sounded annoyed. “Tell the Planner to stop worrying about when you
think
the target will be there. I’m telling you to have a plan for Tuesday, the
exact same plan
, except instead of for Friday, make it for Tuesday. That doesn’t seem complicated to me. Are the bus schedules dramatically different that day or something? I’m telling you to be ready for a secondary contingency. That order is based on information that I have, information saying that we might need to go earlier. You don’t have that information and neither does your Planner, but I don’t care. You don’t need it. Do what I’m telling you. Clear?”