LARA HAD THE gun. I think she was about to throw it back to me. The blue sedan rose up the path and stopped in front of us.
Clara looked at the gun. Then she held forward in both hands. Her right arm was fully extended and her head leaned to one side to put her eye on the sightline. If that marvelous woman hadn’t had weapons training at some level, she sure had me fooled. Her boyfriend, the cop, popped into my mind.
In the dust, the tall guy was stepping out of the car with a gun in his hand. Like the other one, he wore a white knitted mask over his head with knitted holes for his eyes. There hadn’t been time for him to get his hat on. He lifted the gun as he got out of the car. Then he saw Clara.
Crouched and looking like she meant business. She told him, loud and clear, “Drop the weapon.”
The certainty in her voice did nothing to calm my raging erection.
He lifted both hands, palms outward. The gun dangled by the trigger guard over his finger.
“I said drop it.” She fired a shot right past his ear. I wanted to make a conveyor belt of babies with Clara right there and then. The gun dropped to the ground and lay in the grass by his feet.
Without moving her head or taking her eye off the gunsight, she asked me, “Do I need to shoot him?”
I kept my voice and my face straight. It was not easy. I told her, “Don’t shoot him unless you have to. If you do, fire twice, fast. Two rounds straight into the middle of his chest.”
She nodded. The guy asked me, “You think she can make the shot?”
Still not moving her head she said, “Care for a little side-bet?”
I asked him, “You guys wear those Christmas scarves on your faces all the time?”
“Only when we need to be inconspicuous.”
“The identical cars must help with that, too. Is this some kind of a new look for the Feds? Did you get some Italian designer in?”
He said, “We’re not the Bureau. Look, I’ve come to talk.”
“So you are from a government agency. What’s your plan now we made you drop your talking stick?”
“We’re contractors. Like you are, I guess. We just wanted to tell you, we have interests in the same people that you do.”
“Not the same interests though, I’m guessing.”
“No. Our interests in those issues are exact opposites in fact.”
“So this is a kind of a warning, then.”
“Yes. You could kind of look at it that way.”
“Here’s how I look at it. Your partner should be receiving medical care about now. With any luck, he’ll be fully recovered in a day or so. As it stands, your life hangs on the mercy of my friend here. So. Thanks for the warning.”
I stepped around him to pick up the gun. A Ruger. Not exactly my taste but effective. Standing behind him, I asked from right behind where his ear should be, “Your keys in the car?”
He nodded. I said, “Good. Just hand me your phone and your wallet and we’ll let you enjoy the pastoral views.”
He hesitated. I yanked the mask off the top of his head. “Only, you don’t want to be wearing that out here in the woods. Someone could mistake you for a scarecrow. Use you for target practice.” I held the Ruger against the side of his head as I reached into his pockets.
He had the look of a G-Man, but with more than the usual amount of gnarl. His face was like the bark of an old tree. Knotted and ridged, but smoothed over years. His eyes were hooded, sorrowful, and intelligent.
When I had everything of value from him I told him to kneel. He hesitated again and I gave him a tap with his gun. He knelt. I held the gun on him and told Clara, “You go on ahead. Head back the way we came. I’ll follow on in this government contractor’s vehicle.”
Robbing his wallet and phone was mainly to slow him down. I didn’t expect to learn much about him. It seemed a fair revenge for interrupting us. If it seemed harsh to him, then he shouldn’t have left me with a balls ache. With no phone and no money, I figured he’d have at least a five mile walk before he could start catching us up.
I hugged Clara as she went by. Watching her go to her car, I could have forgotten about the goofball with his hair all messed up where I’d pulled off his knitted ski-mask. I watched her get in the car. My girl. The thought, that phrase, it still awoke me with surprise. I’m sure i never thought those words, that way, before. Before her.
I shoved the back of the goofball’s head with the barrel. “You’re saying this is government business? What kind?”
“You’re a smart guy. You can work it out.”
I gave him a whack with the barrel right on his cheekbone.
“Look, I’m not kidding. It’s the obvious kind. You had two assignments, right? Now you have one more. Men who aren’t obviously connected to each other. What does that spell?”
I whacked him again. Same spot. “I don’t like guessing games. Not when I have to do the guessing.”
“I’m a government contractor, okay? If I give you information it’s a federal offense. You’re a pro, you know that shit inside out.” I wasn’t nearly as experienced in the twists and byways of the law as he imagined. He went on, insisting, “I’m a government contractor. I get my work from an arm of the Justice department.”
By then I was getting bored out of my mind. I whacked him at the base of his skull, in part to cheer myself up, but almost as much to make him shut up. And all the while I could see what it was he was telling me. At least, I could make out the shape of it. Dimly. I couldn’t put a name to it.
Anyway, I could put a name to Clara, and she was way off down the little track and I wanted to be off after her.
His wallet said he was Gilson Manfred. I doubted it. Whoever he was, his blue sedan was quick, though it tended to wallow and fishtail on humps and it was too wide for the turns in the dirt roads. I was nearly back to the highway when I saw Clara’s Saturn parked on a verge. I tucked in behind to park and trotted along to slide in beside her. She reached for the key, but I held up a hand to stop her.
Then she kissed me. And I kissed her back. And I held her close as she kissed me. Then she wound herself around me as I kissed her and we kissed each other. The scent of her hair and her clothes. The soft warmth of her skin. The taste of her lips. I wrapped her in my arms.
I could not have cared one fuck less about anything else in the world at that moment. Even the nagging question about how she got her expertise with handguns. Being with her was everything I wanted. But I had to move.
“There’s something on my path. I need to get this wrapped and fast.”
“We have unfinished business, too, Buster. Buster Killian.” Her eyes burned and her fingers raked through my hair.. She sat back against the car door.
“Okay. Tell me what to do.”
I thought of a couple of ways we could go with that. Business first, though. I told her, “Take the turn for the airport on the way into DC. Park up in a long-stay lot, then get a shuttle bus or a cab into DC. There’s a bar on the North West of DuPont Circle. Wait for me there.”
I saw the look in her eyes. One encounter with one of those goons would be enough to rattle most people. She was handling it well. I wanted to shift the focus. But first I checked with her, “You have my gun still,a right?”
She nodded. “Okay. You keep that. I’ll take that guy’s Ruger.” I said, “You know how to work it?” She nodded again. I wanted to ask how well she knew how to use it, but now was not the time. I’d have to take her at her word. “Anytime you can put up as good of a show as good as you did back there, nobody’s going to argue with you.”
I was about to grab my things from the back and slide out. I almost forgot. “Have you got money?”
She nodded as she grabbed my hand. “You aren’t going to take any bad risks are you? You won’t rush your work.”
It had crossed my mind. I was about to shake my head. She took my face in her hands. “Don’t. I need you now. Okay?”