“Shit!” she fumed. “We needed more time. They shouldn’t have tracked us here for five or six more hours,” she said despondently, as much to herself as to Desh. “By then we would have been long gone.” She had been in complete control when dealing with the two attackers, but she was distraught now, as if she had just suffered a terrible loss. Desh was still blind but could hear it clearly in her voice.
“I have to get out of here,” she said after a few seconds of silence. “Now.” Desh noted that any hint of vulnerability had once again disappeared from her voice. “I can’t trust you untied, and I don’t have time to drag you with me.”
Desh’s heart raced furiously. So what would she do with him now? Would she decide to put a bullet in his brain before she left? Desh knew she intended to go through the adjoining room and out the other side of the motel. Her planning had been extraordinary. Just as she had expected, the attackers were only watching the door on the front side of the motel, thinking it was her only exit.
“What if he lied?” said Desh in desperation. “What if they have a sniper watching the back as well?”
“He’ll miss,” she said simply. “I’m covered head to toe by a jumpsuit, goggles and a ski mask, all designed to completely block my heat signature. I’ll be invisible to thermal imaging, from snipers or from the air.”
Desh shook his head. “That’s impossible,” he insisted. “The military has been trying for years. There is no such technology.”
“There is now,” replied Kira smoothly.
Desh’s eyes widened. Could it be true? If she could be believed, she had dramatically enhanced her own intelligence. Had she turned her amped-up genius to the problem of defeating thermal imaging technology? If this were true, it would go a long way toward explaining how she had managed to remain in the US and elude the manhunt for so long.
As this was flashing through Desh’s mind, Kira approached him and quickly sawed at his restraints with a knife until his hands were free, retreating from him rapidly once they were, despite being armed and having the advantage of sight.
“I have to go,” she said hurriedly. “I’ll leave the knife and gun in the bathroom of the adjoining room. By the time you shuffle over there and remove your ankle cuffs, I’ll have gotten the head start I need.”
Desh allowed himself to breathe again. Would she really let him go?
“Damn!” she fumed again. “There’s much more to tell. We should be leaving together as allies!” Kira gathered herself. “They’ll know I took the risk of kidnapping you,” she mumbled rapidly, “but it’s unclear how they’ll interpret this. They may decide to kill you or they may decide just to use you. I don’t know.” She paused. “I know you’re still not sure about me. But even if you think every word I told you was a lie, your survival depends on believing this: don’t trust anyone. Be prepared for anything,” she warned anxiously.
Kira gathered her bag and rushed into the adjoining room. After a ten second detour into its bathroom, she unlocked the room’s outer door. “We’ll have to finish our conversation at another time,” she called to Desh through the doors between the two rooms.
There was a slight pause. “Be careful, David,” she added earnestly. “I hope you’re as good as I think you are.”
And with that, Kira Miller opened the door and stepped out into the night.
PART THREE
Fountain
15
Desh moved the instant the outer door of the adjoining room was shut. He scooted to the other side of the bed and reached out cautiously, probing for the lamp on the other end table. It was identical to the one whose cord had been ripped from the wall. His hand connected with it and he fumbled for the switch at its base, managing to find it and flip it on. Although the lamp was on the dim side, after several minutes in darkness he was forced to squint until his eyes adjusted.
The door frame at the room’s entrance was shattered where the lock had been, and the door itself hung awkwardly from a single hinge; a splintered mess. The two intruders were awkward heaps on the thin carpet, and neither was moving. Desh slid from the bed and pressed two fingers into each of their necks in turn, feeling for their carotid arteries and signs of a pulse. Both were still alive. Satisfied, he shuffled as quickly as he could to the adjoining room, his ankles still bound. Making sure not to turn on any additional lights, he entered the bathroom, unsure of what he might find there.