"Are you insane?"
Lassiter was still holding his breath, still remaining silent in the back of the van, which had once again pulled to a stop.
They…whoever the hell they were…were arguing again about something.
That seemed to be all they did, Lassiter couldn't help but notice.
Argue.
Bicker.
It was starting to give him a worse headache than the scotch and his mild concussion.
Combined.
I'll be damned if I'm going let these two morons kill me…
"We don't have a choice," the second voice answered shortly. "We have to get it cleared out before the cops start crawling all over. Again."
"That wasn't my fault!" The first voice sounded indignant.
"You said no one used the warehouse anymore."
"No one does!"
"Then they shouldn't have found Dylan so soon. We should've had days to figure everything out."
"You shouldn't have left him there!" The first voice snapped back.
"It doesn't matter now. If you're right…this time…and the cops are on their way, they're going to go over every inch of that place, even more than before. It's only a matter of time until they find the tunnel…and the money. We have to get it cleared out tonight. Now."
"But what about him?"
"Who? The cop? He's out. He's not going anywhere." The second voice laughed. "But you stay here just to make sure. If he so much as breathes funny, shoot him. Or just shoot him for the hell of it now. What do I care? It'll save us time."
There was the sound of a car door opening, then slamming shut again.
Lassiter could hear heavy footsteps and snapping twigs, coming closer and then quickly fading away again.
He waited until he was sure the footsteps were gone, then silently inched towards what he assumed had to be the back of the van, in the opposite direction than the voices had been coming from.
Every move he made was agony as his knee rasped the rough van floor, but he bit his lip against the groans until his head bumped up against something.
The door…
He reached up, fumbling around for the latch.
His fingers finally wrapped around it, pulling it…but, of course, nothing happened.
It just clicked.
A hollow, empty click. Like a broken promise.
It's locked…
Of course it's locked…
Even these morons are smarter than that…
He continued to feel around in the dark, his fingers running over the smooth glass of the window and the slightly dimpled paneling of the door, until he finally found the lock.
Come on…
He pulled it up, and then quickly pushed the door again.
This time, the click was followed by the reassuring sensation of cold air rushing in at him as the door gently swung open.
He held his breath for a long moment, waiting to hear a shout from the front seat as he was discovered…but nothing happened.
He pushed the door open further, then slowly sat up and set his feet down outside on a carpet of leaves.
The moon was high in the sky, and Lassiter could see by its soft glow that they were somewhere in the woods, surrounded on all sides by nothing by identical-looking trees. He listened for a moment before moving again, certain he heard the sound of distant traffic….somewhere…
We must be close to the city…
Slowly, he stood up, not sure his leg would even support his weight.
If inching across the van had been agony, the moment his foot hit the ground was a thousand times worse. It felt like dozens of knives simultaneously stabbing his knee.
He gritted his teeth and pushed off, only managing to take a single step before collapsing to the ground.
It just hurt too much…
He forced himself back to his feet, making it two more steps before falling again.
This almost futile pattern…One step…Collapse…Two steps…Collapse...Rest…One step… Collapse...continued unabated for several minutes.
Until he heard the gunshot.
He was already falling as it rang out across the night. He felt the bullet whiz past his ear, grazing the side of his head just before he hit the ground.
He didn't try to get back up.
He could already hear the frantic running footsteps crunching through the brush behind him, getting closer…closer…
He looked up when he heard the clicking of a gun being cocked above his head.
A surprisingly short, wide-eyed man was standing over him, the gun trembling in his hands.
"That was stupid…" he was muttering, almost as if trying to reassure himself of something. "Really, really stupid…"
He pointed the wavering gun down at Lassiter's temple.
"But, it'll save us time…"