Chen had to admire the man’s grit. He was in pain and had no way out of his predicament, but he still wanted to make her work for her information. That he would never get the chance to do anything with what she told him hadn’t even factored into her decision to give him this one small concession. Warrior to warrior, she would honor the terms of their bargain. She nodded for him to continue.
“What… will you… do?”
“Sink your aircraft carrier.”
“Why?”
She waggled the gun in front of his face, reminding him of their arrangement. “Who else knows about me?”
His mouth clamped shut, and she saw a spark in his eye that told her he had no intention of answering the question.
“If you won’t answer,” she said, pausing to look over both shoulders, “I’m afraid my time is up. Which means your time is up.”
“Punky,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Who’s Punky?”
This time, the FBI agent didn’t try reminding her of their quid pro quo. “The person who’s… going to stop you.”
Chen rocked back on her heels and shot the pistol out like a viper, striking him in the face with it. He grunted but made no move to try to stop her. She wanted to keep hitting him in the face until she had smashed every bone, then keep hitting until his face caved in. But she had tired of playing with him, and this
The bullet entered his right eye, and his body fell still. “Goodbye, Mr. FBI agent man.”
Chen stood in the vacant road and looked in both directions, then she scanned the fields of broccoli on either side. She couldn’t even hear the faint sound of sirens but knew it was time to leave. She slipped the pistol back into her waistband and jogged back to the Kenworth truck she had borrowed. It was a short drive back to Guadalupe to return it and reclaim her Jeep, then a quick sprint to the Santa Maria airport.
And there wasn’t a damn thing Punky could do to stop her.
Colt had wiped away some of the blood from her forehead, then helped her out of the Corvette and set her on the ground, leaning against the front wheel. Seeing that she was alert, he went to check on the woman who had been driving the Japanese import and returned a few minutes later, asking to borrow Punky’s phone to call for help. She was already starting to feel more alert but knew the worst of her aches and pains wouldn’t set in for another day or two. She removed her phone from her pocket and started to hand it to him when it vibrated with an incoming call.
“Who’s Uncle Rick?” Colt asked, seeing the name appear on the caller ID.
She ignored the question, answered the call, and brought the phone to her ear. “Uncle Rick? Are you okay?” She heard noises on the other end like something was rubbing against the phone’s microphone, but she couldn’t make out anything recognizable. “Uncle Rick?”
Colt knelt in front of her. “Put it on speaker,” he said.
She did, and they heard the unmistakable sound of a gunshot. “
Then she heard his voice, though weak and woozy, come through clearly. “Who… are you?”
She leaned in closer to the phone, straining to hear the other voice speaking with an elegant feminine crispness. Colt leaned closer as well, understanding that they were eavesdropping on a conversation her Uncle Rick wanted her to hear. She saw him react when they heard the words
“Punky,” Rick’s strained voice said, and her heart skipped a beat.
“Who’s Punky?” the woman asked.
“The person who’s… going to stop you.”
She let out a sob and felt Colt wrap his arm around her head, pulling her close to his chest. It was almost as if he knew what she would hear next, but even muffled, the sound of the gunshot made her flinch. He took the phone from her hand and held her there, but all she could think of was finding the woman who had killed the last person she cared about.
Chen walked out of the brick building and closed the door behind her. After delivering the borrowed and slightly damaged fertilizer tender back to the warehouse across the street, she returned to the used car dealership to reclaim her Jeep. The salesman had been more than happy to speak with her in his air-conditioned office, but his eagerness quickly faded.
She watched the security footage before erasing it, confirming that the FBI agent had stopped to recover a tracker he had used to follow her from Long Beach to San Luis Obispo, and ultimately to his demise. With the tracker now on a farm road inside the wrecked BMW, she could continue to the Santa Maria airport without fear of being followed.
