ThegrayBrixsuitcasewasoCaldwell’sleftleg,sandwichedbetweenhimandthesameoldcouplehehadopeheelevatordoorsforearlier.Theoldmanhadaglassylook,whiletheoldladyappearedtobeassharpastheycame.Herhairwasjetblack,suggestingsomekindofdyejobormedicalprocedurethatheldgrayhairsincheck.Caldwellcouldjustaboutseethetinytouchsocase.Thegreenlightthatindicatedthatthecasewaslockedontoitsownerwasblinking.TherewasatogglebuttonontheBrix’touchsthatread:MANUAL.Caldwellprayedthathislefthandwasnotvisiblefromwherethebikergirlwasstanding.Hepressedthebuttononthesgentlywithminimalmovementinhisshoulder.

    TheelevatorstoppedatB2.Theoldcouplewalkedslowlyoutintoanundergroundparkinglot.Theoldladyushingtheluggagecart.SheturnedroundandgaveCaldwellalookthatsaidshehopedhecouldgethimselfoutofhiscurrentpredit.Theoldboylookedasthoughhehadfotteheyparkedthecar.CaldwellrealizedthatB3wastheandlastbasementfloor.Hehadtomovefast.

    ThelightontheBrixwashetogglebuttonreadAUTOMATIC.CaldwellthankedGodforsimpleuserinterfadthefactthattheBrix’scameraanditssingdevicewerefagtheotherway,towardsthefamily.HepressedtheAUTOMATICbutton.Thecamerapoppedupquietly.Ittookasnapshotandthelaserdidtheswipethingofthelittleeseboy.

    “Lookdad,”theboysaidintonese,pointingatthesuitcase.Thebikergirlwhippedherheadaround,themuzzleofthegunstillpressingpainfullyintoCaldwell’sribcage.Thelaserhaddisappearedanditlookedlikeshecouldhecamera.

    “What,son?Matyea?”thefatheraskedintonese.

    “Ohnothing,”theboyreplied.CaldwellthankedGodforlim