CHAPTER 45

           Secrecy and discretion are more important to a tactical revolutionary movement than numbers.

        —LANCASTER R. HILL, 100 Neighbors, SAWYER RIVER BOOKS, 1939, P. 156

Burke showing up at Lou’s hotel had only heightened Vaill’s paranoia and his conviction that they were dealing with a mole in the agency. Moments after Lou hung up, he had called back to move their meeting place down two blocks.

As the cab cruised past the field office and neared the spot, Lou dropped two limp wrinkled twenties onto the front seat and bolted before they had come to a complete stop. As best as his still-saturated jeans would allow, he got into a crouch and weaved to Vaill’s passenger’s-side door like a man afraid of getting shot by a sniper, which, essentially, he was.

Alexander Burke had proved his skill as an agent as well as his viciousness and absolute remorseless. Now it was time for Vaill to take charge and lead them in some sort of counterstrike. Two problems: even in top form, it was unlikely he was a match for the killer, and at the moment, post-op with a rainbow scar and unpredictable, disabling headaches, he most certainly was not in top form.

“Buckle up, buddy,” he said. “If I pick up a tail, we’re going to have to do some fancy driving to lose him, or even better, to come up behind him. Just like the fighter pilots.”

“I don’t think he’s out there, Tim. At least not right now.”

“Explain.”

“He’s got what the Neighbors want, Humphrey’s notebook, and now he’s got to deliver it to wherever they are, probably as quickly as possible.”

“I suppose.”

“That doesn’t mean forget about him, but I am willing to take the chance he’s postponing coming after either of us until his mission is complete. Then maybe he’ll come after us instead of taking a well-earned vacation to the Caribbean or something. All that is by way of saying I need to get out of these damn clothes and into something dry.”

“How about we find a place to stay first?”

“How about we stop by a store for some sweats and a pair of sneakers? My inner thighs can only take so much of this.”

For the first time, Vaill cracked a smile.

“You got it,” he said.

To the credit of the staff at Richie’s Sporting Goods, no one reacted to the disheveled, sodden, shoeless customer with an “M.D.” following the name on his MasterCard, which, not surprisingly, failed to work after its soaking. Vaill quickly pulled out a wad of cash before the clerk even started keying in the account number by hand. Fifteen minutes of rapid shopping, and Lou left the store with a set of sweats, a sharp pair of New Balance running shoes, shorts, socks, underwear, T-shirts, an Atlanta Falcons jacket, an Atlanta Braves cap, an Atlanta Hawks sweatshirt, and $270 owed to his new partner.

“My delicate inner thighs thank you,” Lou said as they drove away.

“In nearly a month working together, Chuck McCall never cost me a dime,” Vaill replied. “And he never mentioned his delicate inner thighs, neither. Now, let’s first make certain Burke isn’t even better than we fear, and then find somewhere to settle in and look at this evidence I brought.”

The place they settled on, after nearly half an hour of evasive driving, was a no-frills Great Southern Inn and Suites. In truth, the Great Southern was the exact sort of place Lou would have picked had he not accumulated an abundance of credit card points. The irony was not lost on him that those points had most likely saved his life. There was only a micro-sized pool at the two-story motel, and no balcony from which he could have jumped.

Vaill registered as Gregg Campbell from Houston, and had a license and credit cards to back that up.

“I have half a dozen of these sets,” he said to Lou in a more than passable Texas drawl. “Passports, letters of credit, the works. Gregg Campbell is one of my favorites, although the truth is he would probably never stay here. Oil, dontcha know.”

“Our tax dollars at work,” Lou said.

He liked it when Vaill shed his grim mantle, but he well understood why he didn’t do it often.

The Great Southern was up a long drive, about a quarter mile off a sparsely traveled highway. They found it because of a large sign on a very tall pole. Lou wondered what a six-story-tall pole would look like. After they registered for a second-floor suite, Vaill waited in the shadows near the entrance for a good while, fixed on the driveway and the parking lot. Finally, satisfied enough, he led Lou up to their room.

“I wouldn’t put it past the monster to leave his car someplace and walk a mile or so to come up behind this place,” he said.

He pulled the small desk over in front of the closed pull-out, set up his laptop, and inserted one of two DVDs.

“I thought we could start with the one Burke’s wife gave to me and McCall. I showed her graphic photos of what he did to Maria, and she cracked and gave this to us. There’s nothing really of use on it, but I thought it would be a good place to start. Want me to go out for some popcorn for the matinee?”

“Let me see if I can recall what happened the last time you left me alone in a hotel room,” Lou replied.

“Okay, no popcorn, no Raisinets.”

“So there’s not much to this recording?”

“It’s a tearjerker featuring a murderer. Doesn’t even get a PG rating.”

“Sounds like at least you guys are making use of the warehousing technology.”

“This is a video of Burke, sent to his wife. It’s been analyzed by one of our very best intelligence people. No, make that our absolutely best intelligence people. Like I said, he didn’t come up with much. But if nothing else, it presents some interesting insights into the man.”

Vaill hit play and Lou felt his insides go cold. The screen lit up with the image of Alexander Burke, although not the Alexander Burke who had attacked him at the hotel.

“Amazing disguise he wore,” Lou said.

“Believe me, this one’s the real deal.”

This man, clean-shaven, had gray eyes, a different-shaped nose, and straw-colored hair. He was totally at ease, and dashingly good looking, perched on a high, bar-type stool, set on a swath of brownish green lawn. Behind him, an endless expanse of steel ocean churned before an arcing horizon, and on either side, small groves of trees set off his carefully staged tableau. A small plastic device—a remote, Lou assumed—dangled in his hand. The camera, rock steady, was probably set on a tripod, and it did not look as if the killer had help in making the recording.

“Hi, Lola, hey sweet baby.” His voice was nothing like the one Lou had heard in the hotel room. His inflection was warm and full of love, incongruous with the cold eyes and the harsh memories Lou held of him. “You’re not going to hear anything from me in the coming months. But sooner or later you will, and none of it is going to be very flattering. I wish I could be there with you when it all comes out, in order to comfort you in what is going to be a difficult time. But I can’t. I have to be where I am, doing what I will be doing.”

Vaill paused the recording.

“Like I said, this has been analyzed by our best. But it’s good that we’re starting at the beginning. Pay attention to voice, his manner, the way he holds himself. I guess the best thing we could hope for is some clue as to where this film was made, but I believe that’s asking too much.”

“Got it,” Lou said. “Keep rolling.”

Burke’s image again became animated.

“You understand our cause,” he was saying, his tone far calmer than the white-capped ocean behind him. “You know what’s at stake. It’s not just about our future, but the future of this country. Somebody has to take a stand. The politicians have had their chances and it’s time for my organization to step up and make a real difference.

“I told you when we first met that I didn’t want children, because I didn’t want them raised in this corrupt and weak society. But every day I wished we had a bunch. You would have made an amazing mother, and I would have been the luckiest man in the world. As it is, I am lucky. I’m blessed to have the opportunity to make it possible for other people to have children and raise them in a country that is as strong and as financially stable as the original foundation upon which our forefathers built it.

“I miss you, Lola, and I love you with all my heart and soul. I want to tell you that I will come for you when it’s safe. If there is a way, I will come get you. But that might not happen. More likely is that I will be a wanted man—wanted for doing what I believe in my soul is right. But know this: my heart is pure, my conscience is clean, and my conviction in the cause is as unwavering as my love for you.”

Burke raised the remote control and the image on the screen went to black.

Lou sat quietly, stunned by what he had just watched. Nothing leaped out at him, except that the emotion expressed in the recording was as true as a bullet—as bright as the torch Lou still carried for Emily’s mother, Renee. Also, it was clear that Burke was not simply a hired gun. He was invested in the principles espoused by the Neighbors. Their cause was his, and he was willing to kill to support it.

Lou shared those thoughts with Vaill.

“Anything else?” Vaill asked. “Anything that would give us other insights into the man, or maybe something that would give us a clue as to where this was made?”

Lou shook his head. “The only things I saw were ocean, trees, grass, the stool, and a few large rocks, mostly embedded in the earth.”

“Come on, doc. More. You’re doing fine.”

“Well, I feel stupid even saying it, but he was up high.”

“On a cliff,” Vaill said. “It’s like he chose the most scenic, romantic spot around wherever he was. And his face was well lit—no shadows.”

“Good. His shadow sitting on the stool wasn’t very long, and it went out behind him, toward the water, so he’s probably facing west.”

“Past noon, facing west. That’s it, partner. That’s the idea.”

“I can’t make out the few trees to his right, but there are leaves with some color on them, and just a few on the ground. Doesn’t look like winter.”

“Or summer,” Vaill said, “judging from his clothes. There are a few wispy clouds and the water is a little choppy, so that’s a half point against summer and winter, too.”

“I agree. My money’s on autumn, maybe six months ago. Sorry, Tim, but at the moment, I can’t come up with anything else.”

“Then we’re going to do what any decent FBI agent would do in this situation.”

Lou shot him a curious look. “And that would be?”

“First we’ll go over the other material I recorded in order to bring you up to speed. Then we watch this recording again, and we keep watching it until we’re fried—until our eyes bleed or we find something else of value. At the moment, it’s really all we have.”

“In that case,” Lou said, “before we settle in for a quintuple feature or whatever it turns out to be, maybe they have a vending machine here with some Raisinets.”