Long Road to Mercy (Atlee Pine, #1)(119)

He took out his wallet and showed her an ID card with his picture on it.

“Okay, what do you want?”

“To formally invite you to DC.”

“Why?”

“To talk with some folks there who want to meet you.”

“Why?”

He flinched and his look darkened. “They think you’re talented and want to recruit you to work on some matters for them directly.”

“I already have a job.”

He looked around the small office. “Look, no offense, but you’re in a crummy office in the middle of nowhere.”

“No, I’m in my FBI resident agency office in the middle of beautiful Arizona, within spitting distance of the only natural wonder of the world located in this country.”

“Only this position would be far more prestigious, a kick up in the GS level, and a lot more money in your wallet.”

“I didn’t join the FBI to get rich. And I could give a damn about prestige.”

“I’m not sure you understand. They want you in DC. At the highest levels.”

“And I decline.”

Now Tillman dropped all pretense of civility. “You think you’re something, don’t you? Because of what you did,” he added with a snarl.

Pine looked over at the two indentations in the wall and was sorely tempted to add a third. “I tell you what, Walt. The day your guys get their shit together to my satisfaction, I’ll think about it. But I won’t be stupid enough to hold my breath on that. Anything else?”

“No, that’s about it,” he said sullenly.

“Good, because I have someplace to go. Ms. Blum will show you out.”

As though she had been listening against the wood, the door opened and there was Blum.

Pine took her pistols out of her drawer and slipped them into her twin holsters. She grabbed her dark jacket off the chair, and, passing by Tillman without a word, said to Blum, “I’ll be back in a couple of days.”

“Safe travels, Special Agent Pine.”

Pine left the office.

Down in the garage, Pine put on her sunglasses, took the car cover off, and stowed it in the trunk.

She fired up the Mustang and drove out into the sunshine.

She had a long drive ahead of her, and she was looking forward to every mile and minute of it.

The vintage car roared along, its big block V-8 eating up the highway as she went from Arizona on a diagonal through the southeastern corner of Utah, where she followed the flow of the Colorado River for a bit before cutting east and entering the Rocky Mountain state.

She stopped only once, for a restroom break and some dinner, which she ate in her car, looking at the stars swarming the big sky.

She held up her bottle of water and said, “See you soon, Sam.”

Pine drove on, timing it so she arrived at ADX Florence about ten minutes before midnight. She got out of her car, slipped on her jacket, and clipped her FBI badge to her belt.

By the time she cleared security and was being escorted down the corridor to the visiting room, it was one minute to midnight.

She sat in the same seat and looked through the same wall of polycarbonate glass, awaiting his arrival.

Just like last time a half-dozen guards brought Daniel James Tor to her.

They chained him down and left, waiting just outside as before.

Tor popped his neck, placed his manacled hands in front of him, and eyed her curiously. And she figured he had to be curious, since he had agreed to see her again.

She reached into her pocket and took out the picture.

She looked at it for a moment.

The image of Mercy gazed back at her.

Pine placed it against the glass so that Tor could see Mercy staring back at him.

“Where’s my sister?” she said.