Free Vaccine Nation by David Lender Page A

one, she’d have to rent one.” Stiles turned and pointed at the map with the pushpins in it. “Believe it or not, there are only thirty-two car rental agencies in Manhattan. Not too many more in the other boroughs. We’ve got them all staked out. And we got anything going to Washington covered as well. The flights from LaGuardia, Kennedy and Newark airports, the busses from the Port Authority and the trains from Penn Station.”
    Madsen was itching to get up. He started to stand.
    Stiles said, “Wait a second. I haven’t covered what they think she does if she doesn’t have the data.”
    Madsen headed for the door. “I don’t really give a shit. Good work, Steve. Stay on it,” he called over his shoulder. He fingered the prepaid cell phone in his pocket, anxious to get back to his office and call the contractor. That fucking prick McCloskey.

    The next morning, Saturday, Dani woke in the guest bed to James kneeling, fully dressed, beside her. “I’m working on a deal and I need to get to the office. If I can’t stop you from going to Washington, at least I can help you. I left an envelope downstairs on the breakfront with $2,000 in cash. It’s the most I could get from the ATMs in one day. Your instinct about your BlackBerry is correct; the police, and whoever else may be after you, can trace it. Keep it turned off unless it’s an emergency. If you change your mind you know how to reach me. I love you.” He kissed her.
    Tears came to Dani’s eyes. “You know I love you, don’t you?” she said.
    James stroked her hair. “I do. But I still don’t understand.” He stood up and walked to the door. “Be careful.”
    Dani said, “I will,” but her words were swallowed by the lump in her throat. What’s wrong with me? Why had she left James? Even after she had, here he was, doing everything he could to help, to keep her safe. Even after he couldn’t talk her out of going to Washington instead of the police.
    At Penn Station, Dani paid cash for a ticket on the 9:00 a.m. Amtrak to Washington. She checked the overhead clock, then walked out of the station, looking for a beauty salon. Two blocks uptown, she entered The Mane Attraction—why did they always pick such dumb names?—and sat down in the first chair.
    “I want a new look,” she said. “Take it all off, to a few inches long, and let’s color it dark brown. I just broke up with my boyfriend.”
    Forty-five minutes later, Dani entered a Duane Reade drug store and paid cash for four prepaid cell phones and 60minute time cards for each, and four $200 Vanilla Visa gift cards.Next, she found a consignment shop, where she bought a pair of well-worn khakis, a button-down oxford shirt, sneakers and a windbreaker. She changed in the back and dumped the bag of her own clothes in a wastebasket on the street. She glanced back: she loved those Ralph Lauren riding boots; she’d miss them. So, off to Washington, and what? She felt a spasm of uncertainty in her chest.

FIVE
    S TARK WALKED BACK AND FORTH across the street from McCloskey’s apartment building and waited for the appropriate candidate. Maybe a businessman in a hurry, or an older woman with a cane. He paced near the entrance to the Moonbeam diner for 25 minutes, smelling the damned halal lamb frying from the vendor on the corner, the wind blowing dust into his eyes even with his sunglasses on. The swelling and redness in his eyes was a lot better, but the dust made them burn and water like hell. Finally a 50-ish woman in a designer suit got out of a cab with two suitcases. He waited until she started up the steps, then crossed the street to catch up with her.
    “Here, let me help you with those. I’m going in right now myself,” he said, smiling. He’d worn a suit and tie. He reached for her bags.
    “Oh, thank you so much. I wish you’d been at the curb at Grand Central. The cabbie wasn’t much help.”
    Stark picked up the bags, said, “My pleasure,” and walked in with her. Stark