Active Shooter Read Online Free PDF Page A

me.”
    “Is that what they want you to do?”
    “Now who's being direct?”
    “Well?”
    “It's what I need.”
    She turned back with a frown. “Really.”
    “It's my neck on the line. Really and truly.
So I repeat. Are you game?”
    She considered my question for a moment.
“Suppose I share all that I know. Then what?”
    “Then comes full cooperation. You want that,
right? Full cooperation?”
    “Sure--”
    “We need each other,” I said, feeling a
little rude for cutting her off.
    “Why are you doing this?” she asked.
    I pointed at my Adam's apple “My neck,
remember?”
    “What are we into here?”
    “I thought you knew.”
    Her frown deepened. “You're trying to spook
me. They sent you to frighten me away.”
    “If you're not spooked already, I don't know
what I could do to make it happen.”
    She looked away, still frowning. I watched
her profile, her face slowly returning to a softer expression, her
lips tightening into a thin line.
    “I'm not sure this is best,” she said.
    “Getting cold feet, then.”
    She paused to let her bright blue eyes drill
into my dead brown ones. “Just like you want. Me backing off and
walking away.”
    “I've given up worrying about what I want. I
never get it. So when presented with a choice, I don't bother
asking what I want. I just react. Like I did in that terminal. Like
I did when you called me to ask for an interview. Like I'm doing
now. Just doing what feels right in the moment.”
    “This is crazy.”
    “No, Bridget. I'm crazy. Your source
hopefully told you that. If not, all the same, there. Full
disclosure. That's why I turned to a life as a photographer.
Because I find it immensely therapeutic.”
    She looked away and shook her head.
    “Careful, now,” I whispered. “They may not
hear us, but they are watching your reactions and mine. Remember,
most communication comes through body language.”
    “You have five minutes to explain what you
want.”
    “For the third time, my neck. I want it
intact and attached.”
    “I'm not buying it. There's something else
going on here.”
    “And if there is, what would that be?” I
asked, acknowledging to myself her instincts were solid.
    “You're working for them. For whoever is
listening or not listening or watching or whatever. You're here to
pump me for information, maybe feed me junk along the way, and find
out who my source is.”
    “You forgot the part where I seduce you and
setup a gooey honey trap.”
    “Your five minutes are dwindling, Andre.”
    “Here’s what I find interesting,” I said.
“You probably have never seen this source of yours. My guess is
that you do all your communications via computer through a variety
of protected means. How am I doing?”
    Bridget didn’t respond, but the way she
shifted her weight told me I had connected.
    “Yet,” I went on. “In spite of all the
caution you know about, you decide to meet me out in the open,
where God and country and all its demons can monitor us. You burn
us, and you expect--”
    “I tried to be discrete. To use
counter-measures.”
    At this point I could have belittled her. I
could have chastised her for her lack of a clue. That wouldn’t take
me anywhere, however, so I opted for, “We’re burned, Bridget. You
and I. They know we’re talking, and they know it’s not because
we’ve gotten sweet on each other.”
    “You obviously knew that coming into this
meeting. Why are we here?”
    “Because I want to explore the
possibilities.”
    “Can we stop playing here? What are you
after? What do you get out of it?”
    “Ouch, speaking of direct.”
    “Well? Why would I want to go along with this
craziness?” she asked. “Your craziness, as you called it.”
    “Oh, so the real question is what do you get out of it.”
    “Both of the above.”
    “Fair enough,” I said. “But you have to be
ready for the answer.”
    “Which is?”
    “To make sure you and your source don't end
up dead and pull me down with you.”
    She