"Or you come with me. Sophie, I'm not saying it's going to be paradise. We'd both be on the run for a long damn time, maybe for the rest of our lives. The men I worked for, they have connections all over the world. But as much as it is more dangerous for you, I can't imagine living my life without you. So yes, I'm greedy, I'm a taker, and I've caused enough death that I'm going to be answering to some immortal deity eventually, and I don't expect it to be a pleasant conversation. But I love you, and I want to at least see you to safety."
I watched Sophie ponder it for a minute, her eyes going from the bodies on the floor to me and back. I could almost see the thoughts running through her head, and the concerns she had. Going with me meant giving up any hope for a normal life, that was for sure. Finally, she turned and headed towards the bedroom of her apartment. "Where are you going?"
"To pack a couple of bags. I may be going on the run with you, but I'm going to at least take some of my clothes with me. Unless you happen to carry women's clothing with you in the back of that pickup you've got downstairs?"
"Okay, but I'd like to be out of here in five minutes. If those were Owen Lynch's men, his standard procedure is to send another team, usually corrupt cops, soon after. It covers their asses in more ways than one." I heard Sophie rustling around in her bedroom, hurriedly packing her bags, and I guessed more than a few times just jamming things in. Still, she came back out in less than four minutes, with a backpack and a large gym bag slung over her shoulders.
"If I forgot anything, I'm expecting you to pick up the tab," she said with a half grin. "So where are we going?"
Chapter 17
Sophie
We drove for four hours, until nearly midnight. We had taken the Interstate for most of the trip, stopping for gas once while Mark grabbed some snacks for us from the convenience store. While we munched on Fritos, he filled me in on his plan. "Ever since the first hit, I knew I didn't want to be stuck doing this my entire life. I met too many lifelong criminals in the years I worked for Sal and the Confederation, burned out by paranoia, and turning to drugs or other crutches to try and get through to the next day. So I started saving, and learning how to invest my money. I used a lot of shell corporations and dummy names, stuff I picked up from the same criminals I worked for. I took my laptop with me, it's in the back of the truck, although I plan on chucking it in a fire as soon as we can, just in case. I have a backup system anyway, one the Confederation can't track."
"Just how much money are we talking, anyway? I'm not trying to be a gold digger, but I am curious."
Mark thought for a second, then shrugged. "Well, there's a lot of things I'll have to give up in the city, stuff I bought under the alias I used for my condo. That kind of sucks, since that was a lot of my real estate investments. But my cash assets, my stocks, and my other investments I made under other names. I can't give you an exact amount, but I'd say if I liquidated everything that I could currently liquidate safely.... I'd have access to over a hundred and fifty million dollars."
I blinked, sure he had said something wrong. "A hundred and fifty million? That sounds like baseball player money."
Mark laughed and passed a minivan that was traveling fifty miles an hour on the highway. "Yeah, I guess so. Although most of it is locked up in investment vehicles that I specifically set up for long term usage, so the real value is higher. I mean, liquidating my gold assets and my mortgage securities would totally hose me on fees, and with the way the market is now I'd get soaked on my Asian investments too."
"Is that what you did with your spare time?" I asked, taking another few Fritos and chewing on them. The greasy corn flavor was a reminder of my childhood, as my grandfather loved the things, especially covered in chili con carne with cheese. "Become a business mogul?"
"I've tried to learn a lot of things," Mark replied without arrogance. "When you said that you thought I had an MBA, it really touched me. Most of the people I worked with, they wouldn't have noticed. They talk about my shooting skills, or my fighting skills, and lots of comments that I would never repeat to you that makes your average frat house sound like a highly cultured debate society. I hope I treat you better than how they treated the women in their lives."
I thought about it for a moment, then crunched on a few more Fritos. "You already are," I said, reaching over and squeezing his thigh. "Too many men would have continued to lie and try and bullshit me. You told me the truth. One question, though. If Lefort hadn't shown up at your door this morning, would you have told me eventually?"
"Eventually," he said, keeping his eyes on the road. "Actually, I don't know. I do know I was looking at getting out of the business anyway. I've made enough money, and I never did like it. It was just something I'm good at, I guess."
"Do you feel the need to kill?" I asked, looking over at him.
Mark smiled and shook his head. "No. While all of the men I've killed have been scum, I've lost sleep over them every time. I did it because I had to, at first to get out of the situation my father put us in, then later to get out of the situation I was in. You coming along was just the final little push I needed."