Persuader

heartbeat. Now he knows all about you. I nodded to myself in the dark. Nobody knows all about anybody. But I guessed now he knew more about me than I was totally comfortable with.
    I walked back the way I had come. Up the entrance ramp and out into the daylight. It was cloudy and gray and dim and shadowed by tall buildings but it felt like a searchlight beam had hit me. I slid back into the Taurus and closed the door quietly.
    "OK?" Duffy asked.
    I didn't answer. She turned around in her seat and faced me.
    "OK?" she said again.
    "We need to get Eliot out of there," I said.
    "Why?"
    "They found Angel Doll."
    "Who did?"
    "Quinn's people."
    "How?"
    "I don't know."
    "Are you sure?" she said. "It could have been the Portland PD. A suspicious vehicle, parked too long?" I shook my head. "They'd have opened the trunk. So now they'd be treating the whole garage as a crime scene. They'd have it taped off. There'd be cops all over the place." She said nothing.
    "It's completely out of control now," I said. "So call Eliot. On his cell. Order him out of there. Tell him to take the Becks and the cook with him. In the Cadillac. Tell him to arrest them all at gunpoint if necessary. Tell him to find a different motel and hide out." She dug in her purse for her Nokia. Hit a speed dial button. Waited. I timed it out in my head. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Four rings. Duffy glanced at me, anxious. Then Eliot answered. Duffy breathed out and gave him the instructions, loud and clear and urgent. Then she clicked off.
    "OK?" I said.
    She nodded. "He sounded very relieved." I nodded back. He would be. No fun in crouching over the butt end of a machine gun, your back to the sea, staring out at the gray landscape, not knowing what's coming at you, or when.
    "So let's go," I said. "To the warehouse." Villanueva moved off the curb again. He knew the way. He had watched the warehouse twice, with Eliot. Two long days. He threaded southeast through the city and approached the port from the northwest. We all sat quiet. There was no conversation. I tried to assess the damage. It was total. A disaster. But it was also a liberation. It clarified everything.
    No more pretending. The scam had dissolved away to nothing. Now I was their enemy, plain and simple. And they were mine. It was a release.
    Villanueva was a smart operator. He did everything right. He worked his way around the warehouse on a three-block radius. Covered all four sides. We were limited to brief glimpses down alleys and through gaps between buildings. Four passes, four glimpses.
    There were no cars there. The roller door was closed tight. No lights in the windows.
    "Where are they all?" Duffy said. "This was supposed to be a big weekend."
    "It is," I said. "I think it's very big. And I think what they're doing makes perfect sense."
    "What are they doing?"
    "Later," I said. "Let's go take a look at the Persuaders. And let's see what they're getting in exchange." Villanueva parked two buildings north and east, outside a door marked Brian's Fine Imported Taxidermy. He locked the Taurus and we walked south and west and then looped around to come up on Beck's place from the blind side where there were no windows. The personnel door into the warehouse office was locked. I looked in through the back office window and saw nobody. Rounded the corner and looked in at the secretarial area. Nobody there. We arrived at the unpainted gray door and stopped. It was locked.
    "How do we get in?" Villanueva asked.
    "With these," I said.
    I pulled out Angel Doll's keys and unlocked the door. Opened it. The burglar alarm started beeping. I stepped in and flipped through the papers on the notice board and found the code and entered it. The red light changed to green and the beeping stopped and the building went silent.
    "They're not here," Duffy said. "We don't have time to explore. We need to go find Teresa." I could already smell gun oil. It was floating right there on top of the smell of the raw wool from the rugs.
    "Five minutes," I said. "And then ATF will give you a medal."
    "They should give you a medal," Kohl said.
    She was calling me from a pay phone on the Georgetown University campus.
    "Should they?"
    "We've got him. We can stick a fork in him. The guy is totally done."
    "So who was it?"
    "The Iraqis," she said. "Can you believe that?"
    "Makes sense, I guess," I said. "They just got their asses kicked and they want to be ready for the next time."
    "Talk about audacious."
    "How did it go