“Did he have it? The key, I mean?”
“Sure did.” I show her the piece of paper.
“That’s not a key,” she says, unfolding the paper. “Black 1208. What does that mean?”
“We have a color-coded system of safe houses. There’s so many and the Don moves around them so often, it’s impossible to pin him down.”
“I still don’t get it.”
“The black site and the code for the door is 1208. It’s number coded so people can’t copy keys. The code changes every day and only a few people know it, not even me.”
“But Marco did?”
“Right, except he’s so dumb, he has to write it down each time. Don didn’t know that but I did. I was planning for him to be the one that followed me. The only way I can get the right location. Everything’s working out how we planned. Get in while I search his car.”
“What for?”
“Man like that wouldn’t come all this way without a sniper rifle. I’m willing to bet he’s got one in the trunk. Be right back.”
I run over to Marco’s car and sure enough, there it is, a black case in the trunk as I thought.
I bring it with me and load it into the back seat. Then I climb in next to Chloe and we drive out of the parking lot. “What now?” she asks.
“Now we end this,” I reply, wondering if we’ll ever come back to Shallow Falls again.
36
CHLOE
* * *
Enzo drives through the night. I sleep fitfully next to him for most of the way.
It has to be like this. The airports will be watched. Too many roads to keep tabs on though, Enzo says. This way, we can sneak up on the Don without him realizing what’s happening until it’s too late.
It’s all falling into place. Enzo sent a message from Marco’s phone, pretending to be him, telling the Don we’re both dead, arranging to come and see him to formally accept the top job.
He thinks Marco is going to turn up when it’ll be Enzo with the sniper rifle, taking out any remaining guards and then him. Once that’s done, it’s all over except for handing the negatives to the FBI. That’s my job.
If Enzo doesn’t make it, he’s made me promise I’ll still hand the negatives over to the authorities. He clams up when I ask why it matters so much, just tells me it’s personal, and doesn’t go into detail. There’s something he’s not telling me but I’m not sure what it is.
I’m hoping we both survive this. The longer I spend with him, the more certain I become that he’s the one. I’ve never felt this way around anyone. I know that I shouldn’t fall for someone like him, that he’ll want to be off running his empire when this is over.
Maybe we can come to some kind of arrangement. Sure, I might be stupidly optimistic. He told me he was bad news, told me I’d only end up getting hurt if I spent time with him. He wasn’t kidding there. I have been hurt, just not in the way I was expecting.
Still, a lot of pain to come my way if this goes wrong. Getting some right now after so long in the car seat without a rest. I try my best to stretch my back when I wake up but it’s not easy. Enzo just keeps driving like he’s a robot or something. Nothing seems to faze him.
The only time I ever saw real emotion from him was when he thought I was in danger in the cabin. Well, that and when we’re making love. If you can call it that when he was doing things like putting that plug in my ass.
The thought of it gets me tingling but the feeling soon vanishes like I’ve poured cold water over myself. This is a life or death situation coming up. I get tense again, growing increasingly nervous the closer we get to the city.
When we’re a couple of miles away from the location, he brings the car to a halt, parking up down a back street where no one will see us. He gets the sniper rifle out and checks it for a couple of minutes, telling me to keep a lookout.
I see nothing but a few old newspapers blowing across the road. Soon enough, he’s ready to move again and we’re rolling once more.
We’re in an industrial area. Surrounding the car are smokestacks and factories, trucks rumbling along, most of them filthy. Few cars and no one on foot. The buildings are stained dark from fumes.
We turn a corner and in front of us is one more anonymous warehouse set back from the road behind a twelve-foot chain-link fence.