As had been prearranged, Finch opened the laptop on the passenger seat, connected it to the hot spot of his cell phone, and logged in. He used the special password-protected software program to call up the private key to his anonymous account. The next steps were simple. He typed a message to the nameless address that was the destination of the transfer:

I’M READY. BRING FIRST HALF MIDWAY.

The driver’s door of the sedan opened, but the interior lights stayed off. Finch cursed that his counterpart displayed more caution than he’d anticipated. It was too late for him to disable his own courtesy lights. Instead, he reached inside his nylon windbreaker and unsnapped the flap of his shoulder holster. The Beretta would slide free in a matter of seconds.

Holding a gym bag with both hands, a figure in a hoodie rounded the back of the sedan. The stranger appeared to be no more than five-foot-six in height, and the slender build suggested a lithe, muscular body. The movements were catlike, sure-footed, and agile.

The hooded figure dropped the gym bag on the concrete. The smacking sound told Finch the bag was full. Without giving him a second look, the carrier turned around and returned to the car. Finch eased out of the driver’s seat, facing away as the SUV’s dome light came on. He strode toward the bag, keeping his eyes focused on the back of the dark figure until it disappeared into the sedan. He knelt, still watching the car and listening for any footsteps. He grabbed the bag’s straps with his left hand, stood, and slowly walked backward until he sensed his Escape was within reach. He lifted the bag to cover his face as he sat back in the driver’s seat and closed the door.

Finch picked up a small flashlight lying beside his laptop and flicked it on. The narrow beam glinted off the shiny zipper. He opened it, spread the sides of the bag apart, and sucked in a deep breath as he looked at the rolls of hundred-dollar bills inside. He slid the rubber band from one roll and counted twenty-five Benjamin Franklins. He made a quick calculation that the bag was large enough to hold one hundred rolls. Two hundred fifty thousand dollars.

He re-zipped the bag and tossed it into the back seat. Then he picked up the laptop. He’d already entered the appropriate amount of cryptocurrency, clicked the transfer icon, and watched as his account balance reduced accordingly. Then he set the laptop on the passenger seat and turned back to the sedan. The faceless person was already walking toward him, carrying a second bag. Everything had worked perfectly for stage one.