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believe I’m about to say this, but if you can verify that she’s there, maybe this is one we need to report to the cops and let them handle it.”
    Jonathan swiveled his head to look at his friend across the center console. “And what would we tell them?”
    â€œDon’t look at me like that,” Boxers said. “I know the drill. They’ll ask questions we can’t answer, but we don’t have to fill in all the blanks. We can just make an anonymous report and step away.”
    â€œThat’s not what we’ve been hired to do. If we tell the local cops about this, they’re going to check with the FBI. Congressman Johnson seems to think that the bad guys have a source inside the FBI. If the jihadists get word, they’ll kill the kid. This is why we get the big bucks.”
    Boxers drove past the motel, presumably because he wanted to continue talking. “Don’t make it sound like I’m trying to pussy out of this,” he said. “If the PC is in there, how the hell can we wait till dark to pull her out? But if we try it during the day, the entire world will see what we’re up to. That’s too dangerous for us.”
    Big Guy’s point was a valid one, but the job was the job. “Tell you what,” Jonathan said. “After I scope it out, if I can confirm that Mindy Johnson is inside, then we’ll talk. Maybe we can contact the congressman and let him make the call. Tell him the stakes and our limitations, and he can decide.”
    â€œWhat do you think he’s going to say? He’s going to want us to go in and grab her now.”
    â€œWe’ll just have to tell him that’s not how we do things. We’ll tell him we have to wait till dark.”
    Boxers weighed the idea. “You know he won’t go for that,” he said.
    â€œAnd that’s why we don’t ask others for their opinions, and we don’t invite LEOs into our operations.” LEO stood for law enforcement officer. Jonathan had never intended to call them in, but sometimes it was easier to let Big Guy arrive at his own answers in his own way.
    Boxers pulled a legal U-turn at the next light and drove the Ford back toward the Sleeping Genie. “How do you want to handle it?” he asked as they pulled into the lot.
    â€œI’m going to be the drunk looking for his missing girlfriend. When they open the door, I’ll see what I can see.”
    â€œWhat if they don’t open the door?”
    Jonathan flashed a knowing smile. “I really don’t think that will be an issue.”

Chapter Three
    E than sat in that damned car for a long time—long enough for his left hand to go numb from the handcuffs. Finally, a uniformed cop slid in behind the wheel, glanced at Ethan in the rearview mirror, and then dropped the transmission into gear and drove off. The fact that the cop never asked him any questions made Ethan wonder if Hastings had shared with the others her advice for him to stay silent.
    The ride to the police station was short, maybe ten minutes. The cop drove around to the back, where they waited for a garage door to open. They pulled through, and then waited for the door to come back down before the driver got out, walked around to the back of the cruiser, and opened Ethan’s door.
    â€œCome on,” he said. “Time to get you processed.”
    Processed is what you do with sausage, not with people, Ethan thought, but he said nothing. As he shifted position to get out of the vehicle, he realized how full his bladder was. “I need to pee,” he said as he swung his legs around to stand up.
    â€œGo ahead,” the cop said. “They’re not my pants.” He put a hand around Ethan’s right biceps and helped him to his feet. “Thanks for the warning, though. Most prisoners aren’t that courteous. They just piss on you without notice.”
    Ethan considered asking the cop for a little help,