Page 63 of Billion-Dollar Ransom

“THIS IS TWO,” he said as he’d been instructed.

“Two, this is One.”

Oh.

Oh, shit.

Two had not anticipated this call yet. He wasn’t supposed to hear from anyone until the ransom had been safely delivered, at which point he would be told to initiate the sequence that would return his captive to freedom. And Two hadn’t expected One to be personally delivering the instructions.

One had implied it would most likely take at least forty-eight hours, given the logistics of such a large transfer of money. It wasn’t as if Old Man Schraeder had bags of cash just sitting around.

It had been barely a day. This seemed too soon.

Now would be one hell of a time to part ways.

“Go ahead, One,” Two said.

“We will be reaching our objective soon, Two. The time is coming.”

“I understand, One.”

“There is a SWAT team en route to this location. You must exit immediately with the package. When you receive word from me, and only me, you will close the account. Do you understand?”

A jolt coursed through Two’s nervous system. At that moment, Boo was studying him closely, as if trying puzzle out the other half of the conversation.

If she could, she wouldn’t like it very much.

One had told them in their briefing sessions that there were only two possible outcomes. If they were successful and the ransom was safely delivered, the abductors would be told to complete the transaction. If not, the order would be to close the account.

Close the account meant “kill the hostage.” Quickly, cleanly, with no preamble or debate. Done.

Two fought back the shock. This didn’t make any sense. Did it mean the ransom had not been delivered? Was it possible that One’s meticulous plans had unraveled so quickly? Or had that cranky old bastard simply refused to even consider a ransom for his wife and children?

Annoyance in his tone, One repeated, “Do you understand, Two?”

Boo was studying him very, very closely now.

Two knew he shouldn’t ask a question—any question. One discouraged such things. He wanted people to carry out his wishes without pushback or improvisation. But he had to know.

“One, has there been an issue with the… transaction?”

There was a lengthy pause. Two felt like he was dangling between the sky and the earth. Boo reached out and touched his arm. Her touch felt like cold death.

Finally, One said for the third time: “Do you understand, Two?”

No. No, he didn’t. Not a damn thing about this made sense.

All at once, the hairs on his arms stood on end. Something in the world had just shifted—Two’s professional instincts were coming back online. In his former life, he could always tell when a tricky situation was about to go south, usually a few seconds before the rest of the team knew.

“What’s wrong?” Boo asked.

Wrong.

Something was about to go very, very wrong.