Free Flee by Ann Voss Peterson, J.A. Konrath Page B
Authors: Ann Voss Peterson, J.A. Konrath
kill me, I would
try to kill them. The cops presented a more complex problem, especially where Kaufmann
was concerned.
The
elevator's movement slowed and settled. "Kaufmann," I said. "We
can't go to the police."
Kaufmann
stared at me as if I was speaking gibberish. "People died. Maybe more than
we know."
"And
I can't explain that now."
"I'll
explain it, what I know, anyway."
"You
can't."
"I'm
an agent of the court. I have to."
I
shook my head. I wasn't worried about his ethics. "You won't be safe."
"The
police can protect me from Cory."
I
also wasn't worried about Cory. I looked Kaufmann square in the eye. I had to
convince him to follow my lead before the elevator doors opened. "Those
guys in the SUV, there are more of them, and I don't know who they are. But if
they can reach me, they can reach you."
Kaufmann
shook his head.
The
elevator's bell chimed. I could hear the shriek of sirens even before the door
opened. "Years ago I trusted you, Kaufmann, and you saved me. Now you have
to trust me. If you don't do what I say, we both will likely die. Now tuck your
hand in your pocket and follow me."
The
door slid open. I heard the clatter of running footsteps, the bark of voices.
Outside the lobby doors a circus of flashing lights exploded red and blue. Blue
uniformed police officers blocked the exit, trying to control the crowd. Two
officers pushed through the revolving door and into the lobby.
I
scanned the area, stopping on the yellow and black Best Buy sign just
off the lobby. I started in that direction, willing Kaufmann to come along.
For
a second, his body physically swayed toward the cops. Then he focused on me,
and we walked into the electronics shop. We blended with shoppers and minutes
later, made it out the exit, swept by the crowd. A block away, we managed to
flag a cab, leaving Hancock Center behind.
"Debriefing is essential," The Instructor said. "It's
not called the Intelligence business because people are smart. Knowledge is
power. When debriefing, think like a reporter. Who, what, where, when, how, and
why. And learn to know when a subject is lying. Everybody lies."
Settling
into the cab, I got my first good look at Kaufmann. In the bright sunlight, he
looked even more pale than he had in the parking ramp. His gray hair stuck to
his forehead. He smelled of blood and the slightly metallic scent that
accompanied fear. I cupped my hands over his, cradled in his lap. His skin felt
cold and clammy, his pulse disturbingly fast.
For
a second, I thought about risking a hospital. I discarded the idea before we
had traveled a block. I had to go with my training, not my emotion. And my
training was telling me whoever had gotten to Jacob wouldn't let police or
hospital security get in his way. After my rescue of Kaufmann, they knew where
I was vulnerable, and they would use him to reach me, just as Cory had. My only
chance to keep him alive was protecting him myself.
I
gave the cabbie an address about a block from Victor's apartment. Normally I
would double back, change cabs, or do some other counter surveillance moves,
ending up several blocks from my destination and walking the remainder of the
distance. But Kaufmann had lost a lot of blood. I needed to get him to a safe
place where he could rest and I could get my hands on first aid supplies. My
friendly neighborhood EMT could provide both.
"How
are you feeling?" I asked, nodding to his hand.
"I've
had better days."
The
cab took a right turn and the shifting sunlight brought out the depth of
shadows under his eyes.
"It's
later," Kaufmann said, his kind eyes meeting mine.
I
nodded, knowing he was referencing the promise I'd made in the parking ramp to
explain what I could.
"Cory
escaped from Stateville two weeks ago. He must have noticed you at his trial,
figured out you were important to me."
Of
course Cory had. Back then, he could read me like a billboard. I should have
thought of that. The moment I heard of Cory's escape, I should have
try to kill them. The cops presented a more complex problem, especially where Kaufmann
was concerned.
The
elevator's movement slowed and settled. "Kaufmann," I said. "We
can't go to the police."
Kaufmann
stared at me as if I was speaking gibberish. "People died. Maybe more than
we know."
"And
I can't explain that now."
"I'll
explain it, what I know, anyway."
"You
can't."
"I'm
an agent of the court. I have to."
I
shook my head. I wasn't worried about his ethics. "You won't be safe."
"The
police can protect me from Cory."
I
also wasn't worried about Cory. I looked Kaufmann square in the eye. I had to
convince him to follow my lead before the elevator doors opened. "Those
guys in the SUV, there are more of them, and I don't know who they are. But if
they can reach me, they can reach you."
Kaufmann
shook his head.
The
elevator's bell chimed. I could hear the shriek of sirens even before the door
opened. "Years ago I trusted you, Kaufmann, and you saved me. Now you have
to trust me. If you don't do what I say, we both will likely die. Now tuck your
hand in your pocket and follow me."
The
door slid open. I heard the clatter of running footsteps, the bark of voices.
Outside the lobby doors a circus of flashing lights exploded red and blue. Blue
uniformed police officers blocked the exit, trying to control the crowd. Two
officers pushed through the revolving door and into the lobby.
I
scanned the area, stopping on the yellow and black Best Buy sign just
off the lobby. I started in that direction, willing Kaufmann to come along.
For
a second, his body physically swayed toward the cops. Then he focused on me,
and we walked into the electronics shop. We blended with shoppers and minutes
later, made it out the exit, swept by the crowd. A block away, we managed to
flag a cab, leaving Hancock Center behind.
"Debriefing is essential," The Instructor said. "It's
not called the Intelligence business because people are smart. Knowledge is
power. When debriefing, think like a reporter. Who, what, where, when, how, and
why. And learn to know when a subject is lying. Everybody lies."
Settling
into the cab, I got my first good look at Kaufmann. In the bright sunlight, he
looked even more pale than he had in the parking ramp. His gray hair stuck to
his forehead. He smelled of blood and the slightly metallic scent that
accompanied fear. I cupped my hands over his, cradled in his lap. His skin felt
cold and clammy, his pulse disturbingly fast.
For
a second, I thought about risking a hospital. I discarded the idea before we
had traveled a block. I had to go with my training, not my emotion. And my
training was telling me whoever had gotten to Jacob wouldn't let police or
hospital security get in his way. After my rescue of Kaufmann, they knew where
I was vulnerable, and they would use him to reach me, just as Cory had. My only
chance to keep him alive was protecting him myself.
I
gave the cabbie an address about a block from Victor's apartment. Normally I
would double back, change cabs, or do some other counter surveillance moves,
ending up several blocks from my destination and walking the remainder of the
distance. But Kaufmann had lost a lot of blood. I needed to get him to a safe
place where he could rest and I could get my hands on first aid supplies. My
friendly neighborhood EMT could provide both.
"How
are you feeling?" I asked, nodding to his hand.
"I've
had better days."
The
cab took a right turn and the shifting sunlight brought out the depth of
shadows under his eyes.
"It's
later," Kaufmann said, his kind eyes meeting mine.
I
nodded, knowing he was referencing the promise I'd made in the parking ramp to
explain what I could.
"Cory
escaped from Stateville two weeks ago. He must have noticed you at his trial,
figured out you were important to me."
Of
course Cory had. Back then, he could read me like a billboard. I should have
thought of that. The moment I heard of Cory's escape, I should have