Parkerson put down the phone. Looked around the den and slammed his fist on the table. “God damn it.”
On the other end of the line, the asset waited. Let him wait. This was a whole new pile of bullshit to wade through. A big knot to untie. It had been a mistake to send Gray to Philadelphia alone. He’d fucked up two killings, and now Lind and his mystery girlfriend were on the run, headed who knows where. Plus the collateral damage. One dead in Lind’s building. Two more “neutralized” somewhere in goddamn Delaware. A big fucking mess. Bigger than a mess. An unmitigated disaster.
Someone knocked, softly, at the door. Parkerson turned to see his wife peering in at him. “You say something, honey?”
Parkerson glanced at the Killswitch phone in his hand. He shook his head. “Just talking to myself.”
“Everything okay?”
“Work stuff.” He shrugged. “Tight deadline. High pressure, as always.”
“Oh, no.” Rachel walked into the room and put her hands on his shoulders. Squeezed. “You’re so tense.”
“Gonna be this way for a while, I’m afraid.”
“Anything I can do?”
Parkerson leaned into her hands. Closed his eyes and enjoyed her touch. Then he shook his head. “I just have to work through it. Pray it ends soon.”
Rachel leaned down and kissed the top of his head. “Don’t work too hard,” she said. “It’s only life and death.”
Parkerson forced himself to smile. It was a little joke she was always telling him, though this time his wife had no idea just how right she was. He leaned up and kissed her briefly, and gave a little wave as she slipped back out of the den. Then he picked up the Killswitch phone and stared at it.
The girl could drag Lind to the cops. Maybe Lind would remember his training and run; maybe he would kill the girl, or she’d flake out and get scared and they’d both disappear. It was a nice fantasy, but Parkerson knew he should plan for the worst.
He leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. What could the girl know? What could Lind know, for that matter? The kid had been brainwashed pretty good. He’d forgotten his own goddamn name, for Christ’s sake. What did either of them know about Killswitch?
Wendell Gray was still out there, though. Someone, somewhere, would have seen him. Somebody would find the bodies of the poor bastards he’d “neutralized” and report their car missing. Wilmington wasn’t big enough to hide out in for long.
Parkerson checked his watch. It was late. Too late to think about flying to Delaware. Something had to be done, though. Wendell Gray was a failure. Too risky to keep him around any longer.
Parkerson picked up the Killswitch phone. “You there?”
The asset coughed. “Yes, sir.”
“Good.” Parkerson stared up at the ceiling and let out a long breath. “Drive south,” he said. “Don’t stop. Come on home.”