In the silence, Reyland peered at him poker-faced.

“And let me guess,” said the younger agent, Emerson. “If you’re not back somewhere by the right time, it gets released by a lawyer or some other bullshit?”

“No,” Gannon said, shaking his head. “I didn’t make any copies of it. The tape’s still in the camera, and I can get it for you. Right now.”

Reyland continued to peer at him.

“What about the missing items? Don’t lie and say you don’t know what I’m talking about. We found the empty case.”

“It’s there, too. I hid everything together.”

“Who the hell are you, anyway?” Emerson said. “You’re obviously NYPD or something. Except your fingerprints aren’t in the NYPD database. You have no Social Security card, but you have an Irish passport? You don’t even have any records here in the Bahamas except for your shitty boat.”

“A New York cop? Me?” Gannon said. “Okay, fine. Guilty as charged. I was a cop. But I’ve been clean for a few years now. Don’t ask me about the records. The Irish passport thing was because my old man was from Donegal. I registered for dual citizenship because I didn’t want to pay taxes back to the States. I’m just a retired cop who happened to see a plane go down. I want to work with you here, okay?”

Gannon turned to Reyland.

“Listen, I have what you want. I’m just going to need my diving stuff. I hid the video nearby underwater in a blue hole.”

“You hid the video in a what?” Emerson said.

“It’s an underwater cave,” Gannon said. “They call them blue holes. It’s about half an hour south from here.”

“Well, Mike, I’m glad you’re cooperating,” Reyland said, putting an arm over his shoulder. “I’m on a pretty tight schedule, and I’m overjoyed at least that you’re not being a deaf-mute pain in the ass like your stupid stubborn old friend back there.”

“Let me just go get it,” Gannon said.

“A man of action, Mike. I like that,” Reyland said. “But do me a favor and go to the front door, would you?”

Sunglasses opened the door for him. The barrel of the .45 stayed rammed in his ear as he pulled him up to his feet.

On the other side of his lawn, a sky blue painters’ van with ladders on its roof was pulling up at his curb. There was a short, stocky Spanish guy in the front passenger seat, and there was an extremely jacked black-bearded guy with a lot of tats behind its wheel.

The Spanish guy got out and opened the van’s side door.

Inside, Ruby and Stick and Little Jorge were all down on the floor next to each other. Their hands and feet were secured with zip ties, and they had duct tape covering their mouths.

“Please,” Gannon said to Reyland as his front door was slammed shut. “I’ll get you everything you want. You can’t hurt them. They have nothing to do with this.”