Going Dark(92)

“You can’t cut me out. No way you could pull this off without me.”

“You’re right,” Leslie said. “Which means I’ll yank the plug on the whole thing and walk away. If that’s what you and your brother want, then fine, just one more prank like that and it’s finished.”

Wally looked across at his brother, saw the cold menace in his face, took a swallow. “Whatever you say, boss. All I wanted was these assholes to see the kind of shit I can do.”

“We’re blown away,” Thorn said. “You’re a world-class adolescent.”

Wally glared at him for a moment, then picked up his grouper sandwich and took a sloppy bite.

While Cameron was out, he’d run down to marker 103 and gotten take-out dinners from Sundowners—sandwiches, fries, coleslaw, and slices of key lime pie. A feast that seemed to cheer everyone up, except Pauly, who didn’t seem to have that emotional gear.

When the meal was done, Thorn checked on Sugar again. He was awake. Thorn set a sandwich and a bottle of Red Stripe within reach on the bedside table and went into the bathroom and brought back a bottle of aspirin. He drew back the covers and took a look at Sugar’s leg. The knee was swollen double its normal size, a purple grapefruit.

Voice hoarse, Sugar said, “I thought of something.”

Thorn looked back at the open doorway, hearing that same faint creak, a woman’s weight on those old floorboards.

Sugar lifted a hand from the sheets and motioned for Thorn to lean close. In a whisper so quiet Thorn could barely hear, Sugar said, “Glove box.”

Then formed his hand into the shape of a pistol.

* * *

That evening, Leslie did another walk-through of the plan, using the replica of the plant, pointing out the entrance road they’d take, exactly where they would park their vehicle, the spot where the ambush would go down.

Ambush, handcuff, commandeer vehicle. Transfer cage to the back of the feds’ SUV, talk their way through the front gate. Once inside, call Flynn to head off in the skiff, then proceed to the plant’s operation center. A rear door left open. Carry the critters inside, let them loose, clear the place out, then shut down the power.

“And the backup generators?” Prince said. “They’ll kick on when the plant loses juice.”

“Wally’s got that covered. Right, Wally?”

“I’ve got the diesels programmed to stay on for exactly five minutes, long enough for you guys to finish your work, then it all goes black. That’s all you get. Five minutes of light.”

Leslie nodded and returned to the plan.

After the four of them enter the control room, Pauly separates, sets a diversionary explosive device at a storage shed a few hundred yards away. During the confusion the group reunites at the airboat dock behind the biology lab, takes the airboat to rendezvous with Flynn.

“You stay with the skiff, Flynn. No matter what. Do not come ashore.”

Flynn said, “What about the loading docks? They’re much closer to the action. Your rendezvous point is a couple of miles away. The loading docks are like two hundred yards.”

“Too risky,” she said. “Lots of security at the loading docks. Can’t take that chance.”

Flynn nodded.

“If things go bad,” Leslie said, “and we’re not at the boat exactly an hour after you’ve left Thorn’s, you get the hell out of there. Half hour to get to the rendezvous point, and no more than a half hour waiting time.”

“Just leave you there?”

“One hour after you depart Thorn’s. If we’re not at the pickup spot by then, it’s because we were captured.”

“Or crushed like maggots,” Wally said.

“Nobody’s dying,” Leslie said. “This is a peaceful raid.”

“Yeah, right,” Wally said.

For once Thorn was tilting toward Wally.

“After that hour is up, you get the hell out of there, return here, and wait for Cassandra. She’ll get you to safety.”

Flynn absorbed that in silence for several moments. Captured or worse. Frowning as if this wasn’t anything Flynn had considered.

“These explosions,” Thorn said. “That’s the aluminum suitcases?”

No one spoke, then Leslie waved a quelling hand. Back off. “We’ve chosen targets that won’t endanger anyone. What you need to do, Thorn, is focus on your own role. Don’t worry about anyone else.”

“Who leaves the door ajar?”

“Our inside guy.”

“You trust him? Seems like a lot depends on that door. What does he get out of it?”

“He hates the place as much as we do.”

“Block the highway, ambush an SUV full of FBI guys?” Thorn said. “That’s how we’re kicking off this stunt?”