“We want all your snipers pulled from the roofs,” Lefty says.
“Done,” Conor agrees immediately.
“We want the barricades removed, so we can drive out of here.”
“Fine.”
“And we want every agent in a five-mile radius gone.”
“That’ll take some time. But I’ll make it happen.”
The brothers look at each other again. They seem almost baffled by their good fortune, but they realize there’s no other choice. This is their best shot at freedom. Their only shot at freedom, really.
Lefty looks back at Conor. “When the area is clear of your agents, you will send the girl to the garage.” He jerks his chin at me. “She’ll give us the Egg. We’ll hand her the detonator.”
“I will make the exchange,” Conor snaps, letting his anger show for the first time. “She is not going anywhere near you without my protection.”
“Then there will be no deal.” Lefty smirks. “She comes alone with the Egg. No weapons. No protections. Those are the terms.”
“And how do I know you won’t shoot her on the spot, as soon as she hands over the Egg?” Conor’s fury is bleeding into every word.
“You’ll have to trust us.” Righty looks thrilled. “Just as we have to trust you’ll actually pull back your snipers and call off your agents.”
There’s a tense silence.
Trust them.
What an absurd concept. I’d feel more secure trusting Paul with my investment portfolio.
“Well?” Lefty prompts. “Are we doing this or not?”
“I’ll do it,” I agree, heart pounding like a wild animal inside my chest. “I’ll come alone.”
“Like hell you will,” Conor grits out.
“Conor.” My eyes hold his and I see the stark fear swimming in their blue depths. “This is how it has to be.”
“A compromise.” Lefty nods. “You have my word. After the exchange, we agree not to shoot the girl… so long as we are allowed to drive away without pursuit.”
Conor’s jaw is locked tight. A muscle is ticking in his cheek. I can’t tell what’s bothering him more: the idea of letting these two go free, or the thought of me being the one to make the exchange.
“Do we have a deal or not?” Righty asks impatiently.
“Conor,” I plead, when he doesn’t respond.
He exhales sharply. “We have a deal.”
* * *
It all happens so quickly.
One minute the street is full of agents and police vehicles and barricades. The next, it is a ghost town. Completely evacuated. Every house has been emptied, every trace of law enforcement removed. There are no sounds or signs of human life anywhere to be found. It’s eerie. Like something out of a post-apocalyptic horror film — one starring Conor and I as the sole survivors.
We stand in the middle of the quiet street, sheltered partially by his Wrangler.
Waiting.
Worrying.