they just sat there. Then, ten minutes later, the driver’s-side door of the Nissan opened. The guy had apparently made up his mind.
And the chess match began.
Pine mirrored this move with her door.
Four feet hit the dirt from the Nissan.
Pine swung her long legs out and stood, her boots smacking the asphalt.
As the man and little girl stepped out from behind the cover of the truck door, Pine leveled her pistol at his broad chest.
“FBI. This is the end of the line. Step away from the girl. Lie facedown on the ground, legs spread, fingers interlocked behind your head. Do it now or I will open fire.”
The man didn’t obey a single one of her commands. Instead he squatted down and placed the girl squarely in front of him.
Okay, she thought, this sack of shit was going to play it the hard way and use a kid as a shield. Why am I surprised?
Under the illumination thrown from the truck’s interior light, Pine had observed that he looked to be in his early fifties. He was medium height, thick and muscled, with a bald head and a thin line of graying, unkempt hair creeping ivy-like around this dome. His features were weathered, ugly, and demented. He was a walking stereotype of an aging pedophile. He wore a dirty T-shirt that showed off his bulging barbell biceps and dusty corduroy pants with worn boots. The girl was about ten or eleven, tall for her age, with a lean, athletic build. Her twin blond braids dangled on either side of her head. She wore soccer shorts with grass stains on them and a matching jersey. Her knees were dirty, as were the long socks and her Adidas soccer shoes. She looked scared, of course, but there was also a resolute spirit that Pine could see in the girl’s eyes.
Pine didn’t know if this was a stranger-danger scenario or a family snatch case. He looked too old to be her father, but who knew these days?
“Cops are on the way. Do what I said, and you walk away still breathing.”
The man stared at her without answering.
“Habla ingles?” she asked.
“I’m American, bitch,” he barked. “Do I look like a Mexie to you?”
“Then you have no reason not to follow my instructions.”
He pulled a Sig pistol from his waistband and pressed the muzzle against the girl’s head.
“This is my way out. Throw down your piece or the princess’s brains get scrambled.”
“You drop your gun, you get a lawyer, and you do your prison time.”
“I’ve been down that road. I didn’t much like it.”
“What’s your name?”
“Don’t try that good-cop crap with me.”
“I’m sure we can work this out.”
“Shit, you think we’re doing a deal here?” the man said incredulously.
“Let her go and we can try to solve what’s bothering you.”
“You believe I’m falling for that mumbo-jumbo?”
They could now hear sirens in the background.
“It’s not mumbo-jumbo if it’s true.”
“I’m not dealing.”
“Then how do you see this playing out?”
“With you moving your car and letting me outta here. I got stuff I want to do with this little beauty. And I’m itching to get started.” He put his other arm around the girl’s windpipe.
Pine’s finger moved closer to the trigger of the Glock. Should she chance taking a shot? “And what about the cops coming?”
“You talk to them.”
“I’ve got no jurisdiction over them.”
“Look, you dumb bitch, I’ve got the girl. That means I’ve got the leverage. You do what I say, not the other way around.”
“You’re not leaving here with her.”
“Then you got one big problem, bitch.”
Pine decided to change tactics. She glanced at the girl. “Do you know this guy?”
The girl slowly shook her head.
“What’s your name?”
“I’m—”
“Shut up,” the man cried out, pushing the gun against the girl’s head. “And you shut up too!” he barked at Pine.
“I want all three of us to walk away from this thing.”
“You mean two of you. You could give a shit about me.”
“I don’t want to shoot you, but I will if you force my hand.”
“You shoot me, she’s dead.”
Pine looked at the girl once more, quickly sizing her up. She reminded Pine of herself at that age. Tall, rangy. But she was once more struck by the girl’s calm eyes. She ran her gaze over the uniform, the grass-stained shorts and dirty knees. This girl was a scrapper. So maybe, just maybe, this might work. It was risky, but Pine had no options that weren’t.
“You play soccer?” Pine asked.
The girl slowly nodded.
The man pulled her back toward the edge.