Chapter 6
SEATTLE (Friday, Nov. 30, 2012, noon) — Three weapons were kept in the locked box under his bed. Weapons he never intended to fire again but kept anyway. The two weapons he’d smuggled out of the Marines were still in the box; the third, the Glock was gone. The pennies on the corners of the box were still there. Rocking back on his heels, Mac thought about what that meant. Whoever is behind all this knows me, he thought, chilled. Knows my habits. Not even Donnelly could have researched this. He thought about the Glock, its history. Should be clean. No way to link it to... anything; no prints of his on it. Still, he was being set up and the knowledge of it sat like a lump in the pit of his stomach.
Then he checked the rest of them: the 38 in the brace of the bed in his room. In t
