Indispensable Party (Sasha McCandless Legal Thriller No. 4) by Melissa F Miller Page B

closed his book and stood,
folding his tan cashmere overcoat with precision over his left arm. He approached
Bricker and extended his right hand.
    “Captain Bricker?” he said,
managing to keep the sarcasm out of his voice while he used the ridiculous
military honorific.
    Bricker pumped his hand with a
too-firm grip. Typical.
    “Mr. Maxwell. It’s a pleasure.”
    Bricker caught the bartender’s
eye. “Is the back room free, Charlie?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    Bricker gestured with his hand
for Colton to follow him along the length of the dimly lit, narrow barroom.
Colton observed that The Hole in the Wall was an apt name for the establishment.
At the far end of the room, a windowless, steel door was set in the wall next
to a door that appeared to lead to the john.
    Bricker opened the steel door and
flipped a light switch on the wall. He ushered Colton inside as the fluorescent
bar overhead buzzed and blinked to life.
    Colton surveyed the dismal room
and selected an ugly green armchair whose stuffing was exposed in several
spots. Bricker sat across from him in an even uglier chair, with battered and
scratched brown leather worn almost white in spots.
    Bricker unbuttoned his wool peacoat
and tugged the knot out of his scarf, then leaned back in the chair. He got
right to business, a trait Colton shared and appreciated.
    “Do you have it?” Bricker asked.
    “Yes.”
    “How much?”
    Colton also appreciated the other
man’s economy with words. Although Bricker had insisted the dive bar was a safe
spot, Colton saw no reason to run any unnecessary risks: he’d seen “Casino.”
    “The price we previously agreed
to,” Colton said, cocking his head to the side and narrowing his eyes.
    Bricker threw his hands up in a
gesture that said he meant no harm. “Of course. I just wanted to confirm you
aren’t interested in the trade I proposed.”
    Colton snickered. The trade. This
pseudo-officer idiot had actually proposed bartering him doses of Serumceutical’s
vaccine for a vial of the virus. It had amused him at the time, but he wasn’t
interested in going over this again. He shook his head no.
    “Suit yourself.” Bricker stood
and crossed the small room. He opened a cheap plywood closet to reveal a large
fireproof floor safe. He crouched and shielded the keypad from Colton’s view
while he keyed in the combination. He swung the door open and removed a stack
of silver bricks. He hefted them and dropped them heavily at Colton’s feet.
    “Do you have a bag or something?
They’re heavy,” he said.
    Colton reached into his pocket
and unfolded a reusable cloth shopping tote. He shook the creases out of the
fabric and piled the silver inside. Bricker watched him, his mouth curled in
mild amusement.
    Colton didn’t care. He would look
out of place trudging around his luxury building with a duffle bag or rucksack.
He’d blend right in with a Trader Joe’s bag. Even a heavy one. He lifted the
bag by the handles, testing the bottom. It would hold. He let the bag fall to
the floor with a thud and reached into his breast pocket.
    He removed one vial, which he’d
wrapped in a small rectangle of bubble wrap, and held it out to Bricker.
    “You remember the terms of our
deal, I trust?”
    Bricker took the vial gingerly
and unwrapped it. He turned it over in his hand, watching the thick liquid roll
around inside. Colton suspected he was marveling that something so small could
hold so much death.
    Bricker met his eyes. “Yes. I
told you, your timetable isn’t a problem. Our people are getting vaccinated
now. We won’t have full immunity until Tuesday, at the earliest. And the
families, probably not until Wednesday or Thursday—”
    Colton cut him off. “I don’t care
about the details. Just remember. Don’t release it any earlier than Thursday
morning. Beyond that, do what you like.”
    Bricker pressed his lips together
in a white line but said nothing. Colton imagined he wasn’t used to taking
orders. Tough.
    Colton put on