Page 69 of Smoky Lake

On his belly, he wormed his way to the front of the RV and peered down into the alders.

And froze.

The man wore camouflage gear and a steely, all-business manner that Gil associated with the mercenaries he’d come across in his work. His binoculars were trained on Ani. A hunter’s rifle was slung over his shoulder.

Shit. Gil didn’t have any weapons with him. He’d staggered out of the hotel room completely unprepared. Did he have time to run back to his room and get the knife he always kept in a leg-holster? He didn’t even know where it was right now. Maybe in the laundry along with the rest of his clothes.

He saw two options. One, sneak up on the man from behind and take him out barehanded. Pros—he’d get that workout regime started early. Cons—he was weaker than normal, he was unarmed, he assumed the man had fighting skills, and it probably wasn’t possible to make no sound in those alders.

Option two…fuck it. It had to be option two.

He stood up, took off his jacket, and waved it over his head like a flag. “I’m the king of the world,” he howled at the top of his lungs, so everyone on the terrace could hear him. “Watch me fly! Anyone dare me to jump? Woohoo!!!!!”

On the terrace, reaction came quick and loud. Customers jumped to their feet and pointed at him. A server yelled at him to stay where he was. A burly man in an apron came barreling out of a side door. Someone yelled, “Get off my rental!” The kid who’d been jumping on his chair waved his arms at Gil and yodeled back at him.

Pure chaos, just as he’d hoped.

The man in the bushes crouched farther down so he wouldn’t be spotted now that people were looking that general direction. He let go of his binoculars, which hung from a strap around his neck. Gil was grateful for his shaggy hair, several days’ growth of beard and the shadows under his eyes. There was a chance that he too was on the man’s radar. If so, he might not recognize Gil from whatever photo he had.

Ani stood up and ripped off her sunglasses. “Gil!” she called, though she could hardly be heard over the excited chatter of the crowd.

IPhones. Thank God. Various customers were filming him, which normally would be a bad thing, especially for his career. Right now, he had to hope that the prospect of being caught on camera would stop the camo-guy from doing anything dangerous.

He met Ani’s gaze and mouthed, “get down,” adding a hand gesture that made the same point, though he disguised it as the drunken windmilling of an idiot playing Titanic.

“I’m the king of the world!” he yelled over the din. “I order you to go to your room! Go to your room, I say, or off with your head!”

Would she get it? Or would she assume he was still delusional with fever?

Imagination had never been his strong suit. That was Lachlan’s domain, that dreamy conjuring of what-if’s. So this was a stretch for him, trying to find a way to communicate with Ani that wouldn’t tip off the sniper.

“Everything red, everything dead.” He turned it into a singsong nursery rhyme and danced a jig on the RV’s roof. If anyone in the Diplomatic Security Service ever saw this video, he’d be out of a job for sure.

And then he realized that he didn’t care. It was time for a new line of work anyway.

Ani still gaped at him, but she was starting to get it. She said something to her companion and gathered up her sweater and purse.

“Down down down.” He sang and twirled. “Row row row your boat, gently down the stream. Before everything goes boom!”

Now she definitely got it. He kept up his crazy capering as she crouched down and disappeared behind some other customers who were craning their necks and milling around. From his vantage point, he felt confident that the guy with the rifle could no longer see Ani. But he kept up his drunken clown act until he saw her slip around the corner.

The man who’d been at the table with Ani was right on her heels. Gil didn’t like that. What if he was connected to the man hiding in the bushes? Or what if he’d been the target, not Ani?

Just before he disappeared around the corner, the man looked over his shoulder at Gil.

The shock nearly stopped him in mid-jig. The man who’d been eating with Ani was Victor Canseco.

33

As soon as she got to the room, Ani started packing their bags. She had no doubt that Gil would insist on them leaving. Somehow, danger had caught up with them here. Probably thanks to Victor.

“Are you sure that performance wasn’t from the omegavirus?” Victor asked as she buzzed around the room tossing things into bags. “Like I said in the forum, hallucinations can be a symptom in severe cases. I’ve been studying it.”

Crap, she’d have to get their laundry out of the washing machine in the guest laundry room. Could she trust Victor with that task? He seemed off, even stranger than when she’d first met him at the Blackbear airport.

“I don’t think so. I know he was acting strange, extremely so, but when I met his eyes he looked completely lucid. And the things he was saying weren’t totally off the wall. They made sense.”

“Not to me.”

---