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The Last Mile by David Baldacci (65)


ONCE MORE DECKER was awoken from a dead sleep.

This time the man wore a mask. The hand over his mouth was gloved. The other held a semiautomatic pistol. The muzzle was placed against Decker’s temple.

It was a hell of a way to wake up.

“You need to really listen to what I’m going to say,” said the man in a low voice. “Nod if you understand.”

Decker nodded.

“You have two choices. One, you abandon what you’re doing and go home. Your buddy is out of prison and he’ll stay out. We’ll see to that. You will pursue this no further. Do you understand the first choice?”

Decker nodded.

“The second choice is that you continue investigating. The consequences of that will be that you start to lose people close to you. Jamison first, then Oliver. It won’t be pretty. But it is guaranteed. There will be no second request. One step more and they die. Then you. Do you understand the repercussions of the second choice?”

Decker nodded once more.

Then something stuck him in the neck, his eyes rolled back in their sockets, and he passed out.

*  *  *

Sometime later his eyelids fluttered a bit and then popped open.

Decker sat up so fast he felt nauseous. He thought he was going to be sick, but he took several deep breaths and his stomach quieted down. He rubbed his neck where they had injected him. Powerful stuff. It had knocked him out in a second.

He slowly touched his toes to the floor and stood. He was shaky at first, but his balance returned and he walked into the bathroom and splashed water on his face.

He checked his watch.

Six a.m.

He had no idea how long he’d been out.

Whoever had been here was long gone, of that he was sure.

He went back to his bed and sat on the edge.

Two choices. Two very different choices.

He groaned and covered his eyes with one big hand.

He just sat there for a while and then made up his mind.

He dressed, walked to Mars’s room, and rapped on the door.

“Yeah?” the voice said immediately.

Mars apparently was already up. Maybe he hadn’t even gone to sleep.

“It’s Decker, we need to talk.”

Mars opened the door and Decker strode in. Mars closed the door and the two big men faced off in the center of the room.

“Look,” began Mars. “I know what I promised you, but this was before the case took this detour to the sixties. It’s not just Roy out there. He’s bad enough. We got killers coming after us, Decker.”

Decker said, “I know. They were just in my room.”

Mars simply stared at him for a few moments. “Come again?”

Decker quickly explained the two choices.

“So you’re abandoning the case?”

“I’m not, but I want the three of you to get the hell out of town. I’ll contact Bogart and tell him what happened. They can arrange for protection until this is all over.”

“You mean until you’re dead.”

“I can’t tell the future, Melvin.”

“Seems pretty clear to me. You pursue the case, they kill you.”

“And that’s my choice.”

“Why are you willing to die for this? It’s not even your problem.”

“It is my problem, because I chose to make it mine.”

“I don’t get you, man, I really don’t.”

Decker sat in a chair and stared up at him. “It’s all about radio timing, Melvin.”

Mars slumped on the edge of the bed. “Well, that clears everything up, doesn’t it?”

“I was driving from Ohio to my new job in Virginia. For some reason I turned on the radio. And right that second the story comes on.”

“What story?”

Your story, Melvin. A minute off here or there and I never would have heard it. And nothing that’s happened since would have happened.”

“So you believe in fate?”

“No, I believe in not ignoring something staring me in the face.”

“They said they’d kill you.”

“And that gives me hope.”

“Are you losing your damn mind?”

“Why threaten me unless they’re afraid?”

You should be afraid.”

“I am afraid. I was afraid every time I stepped on the football field. Or did a patrol round as a cop. Still didn’t stop me from doing my job.”

“So you’re staying?”

“Yes, I am.”

Mars sighed and looked around the small room, as though all the answers he needed would be there.

“Well, then I’m staying too.”

“You’re not going to do that, Melvin. You lost twenty years of your life. I’m not going to be the reason you lose the rest.”

“Well, like you said, it’s a choice. They already tried to kill us once. And that pissed me off. And when I got pissed off on the field I played my best ball. I called it controlled chaos.”

“You must have had it when you played us.”

“I did. Second play of the game your nose tackle told me I ran like a girl.”

“He always was an idiot.”

“I’m staying, Decker. I walk away now and something happens to you, I’ve got to live with that for the rest of my life.”

“So? It’s not like we’re lifelong friends.”

“But you’ve risked your life for me. You discovered truths about my past that I never would have known. I can’t walk away from you now.”

Decker nodded slowly. “Jamison and Oliver aren’t going to take this well.”

“They will if you tell them that Bogart wants them to come to D.C. to work on the case from another angle while we keep looking here.”

“And you think they’ll buy that?”

“If you tell Bogart what happened to you tonight I think he’ll be able to sell the deal. Maybe Mary goes back to Texas to work on my stuff. Perfectly natural for her to do that. And Jamison heads to D.C. We can go with her initially so she won’t get suspicious.”

“Sounds like a game plan. And if things get hairy, bring your controlled chaos tactic.”

“In my back pocket and ready to go.”

“It’s the fourth quarter, Melvin.”

“Where I always played my best ball.”

“I think we’re going to need everything you can bring to the table,” replied Decker.

“And it’s not like anyone would want to swap places with me. Not even you, I bet.”

Decker stared at him for a long moment.

“What?” asked Mars.

“That word again. The waitress back at the restaurant used it too.”

“What word?”

“Swap.”

“Swap? How does that help us?”

“Believe me, it does. In fact, it pretty much changes everything.”