They could just make out the helicopter skimming toward them over the marshy flats, could hear its blades whupping as it got closer, coming away from the city.   

They lost sight of it for a second behind some housing project buildings, saw it again banking over the Cross Bay Causeway, pointing for the Rockaway Peninsula where they were standing with the ocean at their backs. 

“You’re headed right for us,” Alexey said into his cell. “That’s us on the dune.” 

He and Weecho were overlooking a tract of deserted oceanfront land, a grid of empty, broken-up streets, no buildings. They shielded their eyes while the chopper touched down on a dead-end drive, kicking up a layer of sand. The only sign of life was a black jeep parked on the cracked pavement, Alexey’s weekend wheels that Dara had driven them out in and was sitting in now.   

The chopper door opened and a man in sunglasses jumped out. Weecho recognized him as one of the security guys from the night at the bungalow when he’d hidden under the bed with Juna. Two nights ago? Three? He was losing track. 

Sunglasses held the door for the man he’d been at the bungalow guarding – Senator Patrick Hugh Gatchel. The two of them ducked under the rotor blades, both in suits, and headed past the jeep toward the dunes bordering the beach. Weecho could see Sunglasses trying some intimidation on Dara, saw her give him a sweet, couldn’t-care-less smile.  

Gatchel approached the dune and Sunglasses made a show of surveying the surroundings. Alexey had told Weecho to pick the spot, someplace open and neutral, but neutral in their favor, like they came and went here on a regular basis. Like if you ever needed to bury something… Put an edge on the proceedings.          

Alexey stepped down off the dune and shook hands with Gatchel. 

“The remoteness is for both our benefits,” Alexey said, “these days of cameras where we least want them.” Gestured toward Weecho. “This is my colleague, Mr. Marti.” 

Hand it to Gatchel, he kept a reasonably straight face when he looked at Weecho with his bleached chopped hair and dark Armanis. Didn’t show any sign of recognizing him from Yoon’s yacht party.

Gatchel said to Alexey, “Would you mind if I satisfied myself we’ll be talking in private?” 

“Be our guest,” Alexey said. He’d changed from his sweats, had on a black turtleneck and dark slacks. 

Held out his arms with Weecho while Sunglasses patted them down for a wire, Weecho knowing what the man would find when he felt around his back – still had the automatic from Lynch’s safe tucked there. Sunglasses frowned, reached under Weecho’s jeans jacket (actually Nina’s, the one Juna had found for him) and yanked the gun from his waistband. 

“If you don’t mind,” Gatchel said, “we’ll keep that till we’re finished.” 

Weecho didn’t know if Alexey knew he had the gun, but Alexey acted like it was part of the program. 

“There’s a sniper rifle in that jeep,” Alexey said, “if you’d like to satisfy yourself on that.” 

Sunglasses looked over at the jeep, saw Dara smiling back. Gave it his best macho, but stayed where he was.  

Gatchel made a motion for Sunglasses to step away, out of hearing. Then said to Alexey, “I take it you don’t have the item in question with you.” 

“It’s in safe keeping,” Alexey said, “with a colleague.” 

Gatchel nodded. “The man who originally had it assures me he’ll have it back within twenty-four hours.” 

Weecho spoke up. “With all due respect, Senator, the man is blowing smoke up your pants.” 

Play hardball, Alexey had said. Rattle him.   

“There may be more to him than you realize,” Gatchel said, obviously ticked, looking at Alexey like Who is this trash?    

“You’ll have to excuse Mr. Marti,” Alexey said. “The colleague with the DVD is a personal friend.”                 

Good cop, bad cop.   

“Let’s walk,” Gatchel said, and started over the dunes toward the ocean, trying to take some control. 

Alexey went to join him, easy, no hurry, motioned Weecho to follow. 

“It’s no secret I may consider running for higher office,” Gatchel said when Alexey casually caught up. “A key issue I’d be running on would naturally be national security.” 

Weecho walked a few steps behind them, Sunglasses a few steps behind him. The waves sliding up and down the sand made it hard to hear everything Gatchel and Alexey were saying.    

“He feeds us the names of people we want,” Weecho heard Gatchel say, “and we let him do his thing. Within reason. He can be as big as we’re willing to let him.” 

Talking about Lynch. 

The two men sidestepped away from an incoming wave, Gatchel using the pause to turn the conversation. “This unit you’re involved with…” 

A sideways look from Alexey. 

“I did some homework, made some calls,” Gatchel said. “We can arrange to share information.” 

“Better the devil you know…?” Alexey said, bending down to pick up a couple of stones.   

“He’s already a player,” Gatchel said. “If he wants to be the player, why not? He’ll be into the people we can’t get near. Anybody new coming in, we’re on them.” 

Which of course is what Alexey himself wanted via the laptop. 

Alexey skipped one of the stones out into the waves. “And this works okay with Mr. Bigsby?” 

Alexey a conversation turner himself. Weecho could see Gatchel’s expression – What do you want with him? 

Alexey waited him out, skipped another stone. 

The Senator opened his mouth to answer, was cut off by an electronic chirp. Took the call on his cell, listened, frowned and nodded. “He’s right here.” 

Turned around and held out his phone to Weecho. “It’s for you.” 

Huh? 

Weecho glanced at Alexey who had no more idea than he did. Weecho took the phone. “Yes?”  

“Hello, my friend.” It was Lynch’s voice. “There’s someone here you should talk to.” 

A pause, then Juna came on. “Weecho? I got off the bus after you left. I had bad vibes about that puppy, but when I went back out to get him, he wasn’t there.” 

Weecho must’ve just missed her. And just missed Lynch. “I’ve got the puppy.” 

Then Juna screamed. Lynch came back on the line. “You there?” 

“Don’t hurt her. Just take the DVD and go.” 

“She doesn’t have the DVD. She put it in a bus station locker, couriered the key to your boss’s house. Said you’d know why she was doing it.” 

Weecho closed his eyes – Jesus. 

“The sooner you get it,” Lynch said, “the sooner you get her.” 

“Where can I call you?” 

“I’ll find you. You’ve seen my work, you know what’ll happen if this doesn’t come off.” 

There was another scream from Juna. 

“Lynch?” Weecho yelled. “Lynch!” 

The phone went dead. Weecho looked at Alexey. “He’s got Juna. That’s why we couldn’t reach her.” 

Gatchel almost smiled. “So he wasn’t blowing smoke.” 

Weecho glared over the top of his shades. 

“Suggestion,” Gatchel said. 

“What?” 

“Give him what he wants. And don’t even think about making a copy.” 

He held Weecho’s glare – then snatched the phone and walked back up the beach to his helicopter.