so she can't just go back to where she was . . ."
I saw it then; it was, in its way, sheer genius. It wouldn't work forever, but certainly for longer than it had already gone. And I could confirm it so easily . . .
Picking up the phone, I called Baker and asked him a few questions, as though I was clarifying something. Then I hung up. Sylvie watched as I checked my gun once more. "What are you going to do?"
"The rest of my job. But I'll do it my way, not Carruthers' or Baker's way."
She nodded, serious. I started to say something else, as she began to put on her own gun, but stopped. She knew what I was going to do before I did it, there was no arguing with her when she decided what part she was going to play.
Besides, I needed her to play that part.
I went down to the lobby, where Vic glanced up. "Hey, Mr. Wood! Need anything?"
"Actually, yes, Vic. But it's kinda private . . . ?"
He nodded his understanding—certain business, after all, not being something you wanted to discuss in non-secured public areas. Even though it was late at night, there was always the possibility of an uninvolved traveller dropping by at the wrong moment. He hung a "back in 15 minutes" sign up and we went into one of the back