Page 244 of Whisper
Dan hung upside down in the driver’s seat, motionless, arms limp over his head. Blood dripped from his temple, the ends of his hair, pooling rapidly.
Kris scrambled out of the car, sliding feet first through the busted passenger window, keeping his eyes on Dan. He crawled through the dead leaves and the debris of the gully, getting away from the car, and then rolled, pointing his gun at Dan.
Nothing. No movement. Dan’s head hung at an angle, twisted unnaturally to the left.
Kris swallowed. He breathed in. His hands shook, trembled.
He could hear everything. The sound of leaves settling, the tumble of rocks skittering down the ravine, unsettled by their crash. Birds, flying away, fluttering and cawing high above. His heart, the blood roaring through his veins. His breath, the hollow sound of it rattling through his lungs, his throat. Passing over his lips.
Hehadto move. He had to find Dawood. He had to stop whatever was going to happen. Whatever Dan had planned, today.
His mind churned, trying to put the pieces together. Memories fluttered just out of reach. The touch of sedatives lingered inside him, trying to confuse him. Someone had drugged him. Someone working with Dan.
He breathed deep, closing his eyes.Grab the memories. Push through. You know what’s true in your heart. Remember.
The SUV, parked outside the warehouse. Large enough to be packed with explosives, enough to devastate a city.
A body on the floor. Haddad’s partner, Dan had said.
Dawood’s confession, his love letter. What was Dan forcing him to do?
What day was it? September 11?
Kris crawled back to the car, his eyes glued to Dan’s body. Blood dripped from his face, from his nose and the corner of his mouth. Kris stilled, waiting, watching to see if his chest rose or fell. If he breathed.
Nothing. Dan was gone. Dead.
Good. He shuddered.Good.
He set the gun down in the leaves and reached over Dan, trying not to touch him as he fumbled in Dan’s pockets for the handcuff keys. They tumbled free, clattering to the roof. He reached—
Beneath the deflated airbags, trapped at the end of the dashboard, Kris spotted a cheap burner phone, identical to the one Dawood had shown him.
Dan wasn’t stupid. He’d have smashed the phone George had tracked him with, destroyed it and hidden the remains. Dan was smart, damn it. He’d covered his tracks well, had hidden his betrayal for two years. Had lied to Kris’s face for two years.
This must be a different phone.
Was it the phone he and his partner used? Whoever had knocked him out last night?
Kris grabbed it, dragged it free, and shimmied out of the car.
Handcuffs first. He dropped the phone as he wiggled the key into place, twisted, jimmied the lock until the catches released, and the cuffs dropped in the dirt.
The phone vibrated when he picked it up, and the screen winked on when he pressed the home button. One unread message.
He opened it.
The thread was a back-and-forth of location data and times, starting just after one in the morning.
[ 0745. MMU. Heading to AMB. ETA 0810 ]
Dawood.If it was him texting, or if it was someone with him, the partner Dawood had said Dan was providing, Kris didn’t know. But these texts had to be from them, location and time stamps on their way to their final destination.
MMU.He closed his eyes, tried to think. MMU. A landmark, a hotel… A museum? Nothing fit, nothing was the right acronym—
Marymount University.
In northern Virginia, near Arlington. Which meant—
