20

IN THE WHITE VOLVO flying south down the near empty coastal highway, the chief of staff reaches for his cellphone at the precise moment he sees the southeastern sky light up as though it is Independence Day. Later he will not be certain the phone rang at all. He may have picked it up to call headquarters. Or perhaps they were calling him.

“Skull Prime here. Report.” He listens, then responds. “Code blue. Repeat: code blue.” He turns to his driver. “Gingy, drive like your life depends on it.”

The driver floors it.

“Because it does.”