Exit Strategy (Nadia Stafford 1)

We searched the house from top to bottom and made a list of every possible entry point. Then we narrowed the list down to the most likely ones. The upstairs windows would be too difficult to get into, especially for a man approaching sixty. The basement one was too small. The best candidate was the patio door. The backyard was enclosed by a privacy fence, so once he was over that fence, he was out of sight.

We closed the vertical blinds so he could work on the patio door without being seen from inside. That also meant he couldn't take a shot from outside--a bonus. We closed every blind in the house to solve that potential problem. Plus I'd be wearing body armor. That sounds a lot safer than it really is...a pro like Wilkes would know body armor was a possibility with a secured witness, and he'd aim for my head. But if he didn't have a chance to aim, the armor would help.

We closed off every room that we didn't need, and Jack applied something to the hinges so they'd squeak if the doors opened. With the shades drawn and doors all closed, the house was nearly dark, even at midday, and we moved furniture around, putting side tables in the halls, chairs just beyond doors, wrinkling area rugs, nothing that looked too out of place, but giving Wilkes things to bump into or trip over as he made his way through the house.

It would drive me crazy, having rumpled rugs and cock-eyed furniture, but if he stumbled or bumped something, it would be another way to let me know he was inside. We could have done more, rigged up an alert system of some sort, but if he found it, he'd know this was a trap.

Once the house was set, and I'd memorized t

he layout well enough to navigate in the dark, we ran through the plan, every variation of the plan, and every conceivable obstacle to the plan. Only when Jack was certain he'd left nothing unconsidered did he declare we were ready to bring in the others...and lunch.

Over lunch, we went through the plan with Evelyn, Felix and Quinn, and we all tried to poke holes in it. There were a few, but nothing that gave me any real cause for alarm. Finally, it was three thirty. Jack wanted everyone in position before the press conference.

Felix left me my radio, and showed me how to operate it. Quinn tried to stall, and I knew he wanted a private good-bye, but Evelyn took him aside to help her check on something.

They waited in the front room while Jack gave me last-minute instructions. Once they were out of earshot, he turned my way.

"You okay?"

I managed a weak smile. "As okay as I'm going to be."

"It'll be fine. Got everything covered." His gaze shot to me. "Did, didn't we? Everything covered?"

"It's fine, Jack."

"Things don't go as planned? Get out. Don't try a second time. Get him outside. Got Evelyn and Felix. Both good distance shooters. He runs? Got me and Quinn. Fast enough on our feet. Faster than him, at least."

I nodded.

"You want me here? Maybe we could--"

"No. The plan makes the most sense as it is."

We stood there, the silence thick and heavy.

"I know you don't want me to do this, Jack."

A moment's hesitation. "No. No, I don't."

"What happened yesterday, it wasn't--I was just--"

I stopped, realizing it would do no good to argue. He knew what had happened in that alley. If the lengths I'd gone to had surprised him, my motivation had not.

Yesterday he'd said he knew I wanted "it" bad, but didn't realize how bad, how far I'd go. Now I understood what that had meant. All those times I feared I'd let the mask slide and my rage show, then seen his reaction--no reaction at all--I'd told myself I'd dodged the bullet, kept my secret. But if he hadn't reacted, it was because he hadn't been surprised, had already seen what drove me. Saw it, accepted it, let it be...until I almost got myself killed.

I remembered what Evelyn had said the night before, about another student. "Worst case of 'fuck the world' rage you've ever seen."

I looked at Jack. "I won't screw up again. All things considered, we both know I'm not the best person for this, but I won't let you down."

"Not worried about that."

"Whatever you may think, I'm not suicidal."

He rubbed his hand over his mouth. Then his eyes met mine. "I know what that's like, Nadia. Lose everything. Everyone. It makes a difference. Not like you'd jump in front of a bullet. But things go bad? First thing people think? Who they'd leave behind. Parents, wives, kids...Don't want to let them down. But if there's no one there..."

"It's easier to take that risk," I said softly. "I won't do it again, Jack."

He nodded, gaze down, but had he looked up, I knew what I'd see. Doubt.