2
RICK CAMPBELL
As he debated whether to finish the e-mail or resume his flight, a voice reached out from the darkness. “Stand up.” Searching in the direction of the voice, Evans spotted its source. In the trees twenty feet away stood a man, his arm raised, pointing a pistol. Evans stood, then took a step back. “Stay where you are!” The man’s voice was familiar, but Evans couldn’t place it. His eyes strained to identify the man, but the moon’s faint illumination was insufficient. “Who are you? What do you want?” Evans asked. “Who have you told?” “About what?” The man stepped closer, his face becoming clearer. “Tell me who you have told, and I’ll spare your life.” Evans almost laughed. He knew he would be dead in a few minutes regardless of what he revealed. As he held the cell phone against his chest, he slid his thumb along the keyboard and pressed Send. The message was incomplete, but it would have to do. He had run out of time. He dropped his phone on the ground as he replied to his assailant, hoping the sound of the BlackBerry hitting the path wouldn’t be noticed. “I told no one. You caught up to me too soon.” Evans crushed the phone between the heel of his shoe and the rocky trail with the full weight of his body, until a sharp, impossibly loud crack echoed through the quiet park. “What are you doing?” the man asked. “I stepped on a stick,” Evans replied, holding no hope he’d be believed. “I can see I’ve wasted enough time with you already.” It appeared Evans had assessed the situation correctly; he would not leave Rock Creek Park alive. But the e-mail had been sent, offering hope the information he had collected would be successfully analyzed. Not that it mattered, Evans stepped toward his executioner, hoping to determine his identity. As the man’s features slowly materialized into a recognizable face, Evans began trembling. He now understood what was at stake, what they were planning to do. “It’s a shame I have to kill you,” the man said. “But when we’re about to kill millions, what’s one more.” The man squeezed the trigger gradually, until he felt the firm recoil of the pistol in his hand. -1— 0— +1—
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10/18/13 5:06 PM