Dickinson looked the same as ever. Handsome, good posture, an alert readiness. His right hand was itching to jerk the pistol from his shoulder holster.
“Hello, Nick,” Peters said. For the first time, Cooper noticed that Peters had a rodent-ish look. Something in his neat bearing and small mouth, his rimless glasses. The briefcase he’d been carrying sat on the table in front of him. “Nice to see you again.”
The conference space was wide open. Cooper walked to the table. Stood opposite the two of them.
Remember, they don’t know that you know, or that you have help. If they suspect either of those things for a second, this all comes crashing down. “Where’s my family?”
“They’re nearby.”
“Not good enough.” He took a step back, eyes forward.
“I’ll prove it to you,” Peters said, “but I’ll need you to put down your gun.”
“I don’t have one.”
“Of course you do. But it’s okay. I’ll go first.” Peters reached for the briefcase, opening it slowly. The inside of the lid was a monitor, which glowed to life. The screen held white for a moment, then cut to a video feed.
Natalie sat in a leather chair at one end of a small room, Todd to her left, Kate to her right. The kids had pads of paper in front of them and appeared to be drawing. Kate, younger, was lost in it, but Natalie was leaning into Todd, trying to encourage him. Distracting them, Cooper realized, trying to keep them calm. The wall behind them was glass, the Capitol dome glowing in the distance. The two gunmen stood nearby, weapons out. One looked at the camera, the other at Natalie.
“That’s quite a woman you divorced, Nick. A wonderful mother. And your children. Beautiful.”
Cooper stared at the image, at his children, the reasons for every action he’d taken. Reason enough to set the world on fire. Natalie glanced up, directly into the monitor, as if she was staring at him.
How?
The camera, he realized. They would have set that up in front of them, and she was smart enough to know it would be for his benefit. It wasn’t “as if” she was looking at him; she was staring at him. The look in her eyes a plea. Not for her, but for Kate and Todd.
A plea, and something else. What?
“Now. Your gun. Gently, please.”
It wasn’t that Natalie’s eyes moved. They didn’t. It was that she thought about moving them, thought about flickering them to the left. That thought translated into the tiniest subdermal motion, the kind of thing he could see.
The kind of thing she knows you can see.
She’s giving you a hint.
Warmth bloomed in his chest. The women in his life were amazing.
“All I see is a conference room with the Capitol in the background,” he said. “They could be anywhere.”
“Let’s not play games, Nick. You know how far I’m willing to go. Your gun.”
In his ear, Quinn said, “Checking.”
Cooper hesitated as if thinking about it. Then, slowly, he reached around his back and took out the pistol. Dickinson tensed, a coiled spring begging to explode. Using just his thumb and forefinger, Cooper set the weapon down and pushed it to slide across the table.
Quinn said, “Got it. Suite 508. The conference room is in the southeast corner.”
Shannon said, “On my way.”
Cooper said, “There. Now how about Roger does the same?”
Dickinson laughed. Peters gave his thin smile. “I don’t think so. We’re both aware of your abilities. Now, where’s the drive?”
“It’s safe.”
“How nice to hear. Where?”
“If I tell you, how do I know you won’t kill them anyway?”
“You have my word.”
“That’s not carrying as much weight with me as it used to, Drew.”
“It’s going to have to do. I told you, you’re not in a position to negotiate. Give me what I want and I’ll let you all go.”
Dickinson said, “I bet it’s in his pocket. Let me take him.”
Shannon said, “Nick, I’m in the office, outside the conference room. Going now.”
“No, Roger.” Peters paused. Then he said, “Shoot Cooper’s son on the count of three.”
On the monitor, one of the guards raised his gun, pointed it at Todd—