Unmanned by Dan Fesperman

Author:Dan Fesperman [Fesperman, Dan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-385-35126-3
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2014-08-11T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

SOMEONE WAS RAPPING LIKE a woodpecker on the passenger window of Steve’s Honda.

“Open up, flyboy!”

It was Sharpe, who once again had materialized out of nowhere just as Cole was dozing off. Cole was parked outside a convenience store on eastbound Route 50, their designated rendezvous point. He checked his watch and rolled down the window. Cold out there. Sharpe smiled craggily, but Cole wasn’t in the mood for it.

“You’re half an hour late.”

“I’m right on time, Captain Cole. You were half an hour early.”

“You said nine thirty.”

“I know what I said. I was giving you enough extra time to lower your guard. Which is exactly what happened, sleepyhead. Now unlock the doors so I can load the freight.”

“Freight?”

“You’ll see.”

Cole popped the locks. Sharpe opened the rear door and hefted a black hard-shell suitcase that looked big enough to hold a bass drum. He tried awkwardly to wedge the case onto the backseat, bumping and scraping against the door frame.

“No damn way, not with this Jap go-kart of yours. Unlatch the trunk.”

“What the hell’s in there?”

“Unlatch the trunk!”

Cole did as he was told. He watched Sharpe in the mirror, the bald head barely visible above the raised lid. There was some jostling and swearing, a lot of bumping around, then a slam. Sharpe walked around to the front and climbed in, his scalp beaded with sweat. There were only two other cars in the parking lot, and both had been there when Cole arrived.

“Where’s your car?” he asked.

“How do you know I came by car? You need coffee?”

“No.”

“Then let’s get moving. East on 50. I’ll direct you from there.”

“I’m sure you will.” Now he was wishing he’d grabbed a coffee, although the blast of cold air had braced him up.

They pulled onto the highway. It was midmorning on a Saturday. Waves of Christmas shoppers would soon be heading for the nearest malls and big box discounters, but for now traffic was light. Cole figured Sharpe would tell him what was up soon enough. Instead he pulled out a smart phone and began tapping commands onto the touch screen. Five minutes of this was all Cole could stand.

“Mind telling me where we’re going?”

“I’m going to show you that rare phenomenon: a genie escaping his bottle.”

“Then what, you put him back in?”

“Nobody puts him back. Once he’s out, it’s all about who owns the bottle, who rubs the lamp.”

“What’s this have to do with Wade Castle?”

“Wade is the Agency’s keeper of the lamp. Or was. For all I know, he might be the genie by now. If you want to find him, or know what he’s been doing, then you better get a good look at the lamp, don’t you think?”

Cole waited for more of this cryptic bullshit, but Sharpe went back to work on his phone, as intently oblivious to their surroundings as a teenager texting his friends. Or so it seemed until ten minutes later, when, without looking up, Sharpe announced, “Take a right up ahead, by that old farm stand.

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