Runner-up 3

“Jesus. What is she doing with him?” Bonner said evenly as he and Falco stared at the images of Genie and Ernesto on the security monitor. “I talked to him just before I got here 20 minutes ago. He said he’d taken care of Carmen, and I thought that meant he was out there in Reseda!”

Falco, already standing, took a step toward the security panel.

“What kinda people you got around you, huh, Bonner? Wife gives you the slip, steals classified information. Cleanup guy takes your money and lies to you.”

“Shut up, Falco,” Bonner said, lifting the gun from his lap. “And don’t touch that gate release. Looks like more company just arrived.”

Two more faces appeared on the monitor. They looked like FBI -- expensive suits, aviator shades, Costner haircuts. One of them shoved Genie hard, and it looked like she fell out of camera range.

It took both guys to wrestle Ernesto into a half nelson. The guy not holding him then bent down, presumably to get Genie on her feet. She came back on camera, her face twisted in pain, her arm in the suit’s grasp. As fast as they appeared, all four were gone and the scene returned to its prior emptiness.

Bonner sprang out of his chair, knocking it over onto the Italian tile floor with a clatter. He still held the gun he’d had trained on Falco before the interruption.

“What the hell?” shouted Falco, slamming both palms flat on the table, a dumbfounded look on his sallow face.

“C’mon. Don’t just stand there!” Bonner yelled at him. “She’s got that flash drive!”

They ran through the living room, Falco leading the way through Tuscan antique furnishings. He ripped open the front door and left it ajar as they charged down the long, shaded walkway, ragged breaths slowing them both as they reached the gate.

Once it slid open enough to allow passage, they burst into the street looking past Ernesto’s black Crown Vic, then in the opposite direction. A new black BMW was far down the avenue traveling toward Sunset.

Bonner took a wide stance and aimed at the vehicle. He could still see his wife’s big blond hair in the back window. Her head bobbed and twisted around as though she were full of fury. Cringing at the thought of her whining voice, he was sorry the car was already out of range. He would have liked to put an end to his marital problem.

Falco’s phone chirped. He dug it out of his pocket and flipped it open. Bonner, hyped on adrenaline, elbowed the congressman in the gut, grabbed the phone from him and answered.

Hearing Carmen’s voice asking for Falco shocked and angered him. First Genie, then Ernesto. They lied to him, they stole from him, they double-crossed him and they were as good as dead.

Karen Dale lives at the beach, where she writes “for no pay” and is “looking for a new day job.”