59. GRAYSON
59
GRAYSON
I swept my Glock from left to right, mentally assessing the room and its potential blind spots.
The space, which was large enough to fit six cars side by side, looked like it had been in the beginning of a business’s buildout when it was abandoned. The interior walls were only partially drywalled, many of them leaking electrical wires and copper pipes, while the previous flooring had been ripped out, exposing a concrete slab that could echo my every move. Evidently, the electricity company hadn’t cut off supply yet, because a single bulb in the center made it impossible for me to hide.
A faint scrape of movement from the lone doorway across the room sent a jolt of adrenaline through my system. In one fluid motion, I pivoted, my weapon snapping to train on the shadowy figure emerging into the harsh pool of light.
Daniel.
He held his gun at his side, the barrel pointed at the floor.
“You can put your weapon down.” His tone was flat, his movements casual, as he walked into the center of the room as if we were two old buddies rather than trained killers on opposing sides of what would undoubtedly be a violent end.
“Who are you here with?” I stared down the barrel of my weapon, keeping it trained on his skull as my focus ping-ponged between the open doorway and Daniel.
“I’m alone.”
“Bullshit.”
Daniel pulled a folding chair that had been resting up against the wall into the center of the room, opened it, and sat beneath the overhead light facing me, placing his firearm on his lap, pointed to his right.
“Feel free to look for yourself.” Daniel motioned toward the only door in the room.
“Is that how you wanted it to end? Watching me get ambushed?”
“This isn’t an ambush, Grayson.”
“If you say so.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Then, put down your gun.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he said. “It would be unwise to be unarmed with my lead agent, don’t you think?”
“If you just want to talk, you don’t need it.”
“Don’t I?”
My eyes swept the space, trying to figure out his game. It pissed me off that I was coming up empty. Why hadn’t he tried to kill me already?
“Fine,” I said. “You want to talk? Start by explaining something to me.”
I took two steps forward.
“Why did you do it all?” I demanded.