The battered truck idled in the fire lane in an old strip mall in Upland. After holding open the passenger door like a chauffeur and scanning the parking lot, the bagman patted Ray down for weapons. He came up with the burner phone Ray was supposed to call the cavalry on and slipped it into his pocket.
“Can I get that back? I prepaid and still have thirty-seven minutes left.”
The bagman pulled the phone out of his pocket.
“Sure.”
He slipped the back cover off the phone, checked it for a chip, then removed the SIM card and battery and whipped them into oncoming traffic. He snapped the phone in half at the hinge and dumped it at Ray’s feet.
“Here you go,” the bagman smiled.
Ray looked down at the phone. Thank God for back-up plans.
“Based on where we are, I can either go get some SR-2
