Anna and Alan waited at a secure location.
Hayes remained under protection.
The shop lights were dim.
Voss entered through the rear door.
He looked nothing like the man from television now.
No suit.
Jeans.
Dark jacket.
Unshaven.
A pistol in his hand.
“Ray.”
I stood beside my old workbench.
“Daniel.”
He smiled.
“You have something of mine.”
“I’ve heard that a lot lately.”
“Key.”
I held it up.
His eyes fixed on it.
“Put it on the bench.”
I did.
He moved closer.
“Your wife caused a tremendous amount of trouble.”
My jaw tightened.
“You should be grateful she’s dead.”
Every instinct in my body screamed.
But I stayed calm.
Just as I had with Brennan.
Voss smiled.
“There he is.”
“Who?”
“The famous Ray Carter restraint.”
“You know a lot about me.”
“I know everything about you.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“You know what people wrote down.”
His smile faded.
“That isn’t the same thing.”
He raised the pistol.
“Where are the originals?”
“What originals?”
“Margaret’s files.”
“You already know about the USB.”
“I know there are duplicates.”
“Then why ask?”
His eyes changed.
Good.
I had learned something.
He didn’t know.
He was guessing.
Behind my calm face, the mechanic in me was listening.
Machines talk.
So do frightened men.
Voss said, “Your daughter has been lying to you for years.”
“I know.”
“Your brother too.”
“I know.”
“Your wife.”
That one landed.
He saw it.
Enjoyed it.
“Doesn’t it bother you?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“But they lied because they were afraid of you.”
His smile vanished.
“That must be difficult for a man like you.”
“A man like me?”
“Men like you need to be respected.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
He frowned.
“Men like Brennan needed respect.”
I stepped slightly closer.
“Men like you need fear.”
His finger tightened on the pistol.
I stopped.
“You built everything on it.”
“Don’t psychoanalyze me.”
“I’m a mechanic.”
“Then act like one.”
“I am.”
I looked toward the hydraulic lift.
“You know what happens when hydraulic pressure gets trapped?”
He frowned.
“What?”
“System works fine for a while.”
I moved another inch.
“Then heat builds.”
“Stop.”
“Seals weaken.”
“Ray.”
“Pressure finds the smallest failure.”
His face reddened.
“And then the whole system releases at once.”
He raised the gun toward my chest.
“That your plan? Annoy me to death?”
“No.”
I looked past him.
“My plan was to keep you talking.”
Voss spun.
Nothing.
He laughed.
“You think I didn’t check for agents?”
He turned back.
“I fed the FBI a false location. Your people are waiting at the wrong building.”
For the first time, my calm cracked.
Just enough.
He saw it.
His smile returned.
“You really thought you were clever.”
He picked up the encryption key.
“Your problem, Ray, is that you still believe systems can be fixed.”
He slipped the key into his pocket.
“Some systems exist precisely because people like you believe that.”
He backed toward the door.
Then stopped.
“One last thing.”
He pointed the gun directly at me.
“Brennan wasn’t supposed to take your money.”
I froze.
“What?”
“He recognized you.”
“No, he didn’t.”
“Oh, yes.”
Voss smiled.
“From Margaret’s photographs.”
That made no sense.
“He took the cash because he panicked. He thought killing you would trigger too much attention, so he improvised.”
Brennan.
Careless.
Fearful.
Testing me.
I had been right for the wrong reason.
Voss continued.
“When he called Mercer afterward, Mercer realized the entire operation was compromised.”
I stared.
“So Brennan’s greed destroyed you.”
His smile faded.
I almost laughed.
All those years.
All that planning.
All that corruption.
And the machine failed because one arrogant officer could not resist two thousand dollars in an old man’s wallet.
Voss stepped backward.
Then the shop speaker crackled.
Margaret’s voice filled the room.
“Testing, testing. Ray says I talk too loudly into microphones…”
Voss went white.
I stared at the speaker.
I had not activated anything.
Margaret continued.
“…so if this sounds awful, blame my husband.”
Voss spun toward the office.
“What did you do?”
I smiled.
“Nothing.”
The lights came on.
Every light.
Bay one.
Bay two.
Office.
Storage room.
Exterior floodlights.
The overhead doors slammed shut.
Voss aimed at the ceiling.
“What the hell?”
A voice came through the speaker.
Not Margaret now.
Anna.
“Hello, Daniel.”
Voss froze.
My daughter continued.
“You always did underestimate mechanics.”
I looked at the hydraulic lift controls.
Then the old shop security system.
Then I understood.
Anna had rebuilt the network remotely.
The federal agents hadn’t gone to the wrong location.
There were no agents.
Not yet.
Because Anna had known Voss would detect them.
Instead, the building itself was the trap.
Electronic locks engaged.
Steel shutters dropped over the office windows.
Voss fired at the rear door.
The bullet struck metal.
He turned toward me.
“You.”
I raised both hands.
“Wasn’t me.”
Technically true.
He charged.
At sixty-nine, I was not faster than him.
I didn’t need to be.
I stepped aside.
His boot hit the thin line of transmission fluid I had poured across the floor fifteen minutes earlier.
Voss slipped.
The pistol flew from his hand.
I kicked it beneath the workbench.
He hit me hard.
We went down.
Pain exploded through my shoulder.
Voss grabbed my throat.
His face hovered inches above mine.
“You old bastard.”
I drove my palm beneath his chin.
Not hard enough to seriously injure him.
Hard enough.
He rolled.
I stood.
Slowly.