“Tired of being a reporter?” Pender sneered.
“I’d much rather be rich.”
“Five days,” he retorted.
“The negotiations are closed! Three days or your plan goes down the tubes.”
“I doubt one story from you will turn such an overwhelming global tide.”
“Fine, then don’t pay and we’ll see what happens. Good-bye.”
“Wait, wait!”
“I’m listening.”
“All right. Three days. But a piece of advice, Ms. James. If you do something as incredibly stupid as double-crossing us-”
“I know, I know. It won’t be pretty. Don’t worry. I’ve already got my Pulitzers. All I want now are the good things in life.”
She gave him the bank information and glanced at Shaw. He was making a slashing motion against his neck.
“Nice doing business with you,” Katie remarked before clicking off.
She looked at Shaw, who turned off the video camera.
“Well?” she asked.
“Western suburbs of Washington, D.C.; the Dulles Toll Road.
“They know that fast?”
“There’re two cell towers right there. It was easy to trace the signal. He would’ve been far safer sitting in a crowded hotel. Too many signals there to narrow down to one person.”
“Okay, but what about just tracing the number the man used?”
“We did. He tried to block the number, that’s why it didn’t pop up on your screen, but we had a wireless intercept on the phone you used. It overrode his block, snagged the number, and sixty seconds later we had our phone number owner.”
“Who was it?”
“According to Frank, an eighty-six-year-old priest in Boston who I’m reasonably sure is not running around the world starting wars, and has no idea someone stole his phone number.”
“So how does knowing that this guy was driving on that road help us? Could they tell which car?”
He shook his head. “Technology’s not there yet. Same as trying to pinpoint a person.”
“So how do we trace the guy, Shaw?” she said, exasperated.
He patted the video camera. “By using this.”
“That? You’ve been taking a video of me and a clock.”
“That’s right.”
“So now what?”
“Now we fly to D.C.”
CHAPTER 82