Many thousands of feet above the earth, where the atmosphere is too thin to sustain life, where a sky of clouds lies below and a sky of cold stars arcs above, where time in its cruel and relentless progress seems to apply only to the masses quarreling across the planet’s surface, in the cushioned comfort of the Gulfstream V jet, Booth Hendrickson enjoys a late dinner of capon served with style by a flight steward in the employ of the FBI but for this journey on loan to the Department of Justice. There is a superb side order of haricots verts and another of pasta alfredo. The white wine is properly chilled and crisp and so delicious that Hendrickson doesn’t ask the name of it, for fear that it will prove to be of an undistinguished label and therefore will disturb his sense of the proper order of things.
A flight from Louisville to Washington is not usually long enough for one to enjoy a leisurely dinner with dessert followed by a carefully nurtured serving of forty-year-old port. However, while choppering to Louisville from Iron Furnace, Hendrickson arranged for the pilot to file a new flight plan that set a course to Washington by way of Atlanta, Georgia. If this unconventional route, filed so late, presents air-traffic-control problems, civilian air corridors can be cleared of commercial flights in order to accommodate an official engaged on urgent business for his nation.
Between the entrée and the lemon tart with basil ice cream, as Hendrickson is enjoying the last of his wine, a call comes through from one Hassan Zaghari, whom he knows but who should not have his most private cell number. Huey Darnell again.
Hassan succinctly explains the situation with Rebecca and Jolie Tillman and gives a concise account of the phone call placed to them by the Podunk sheriff. Then: “The aunt’s car will be in the hotel garage before long, sir. Beedle and I can tag a locater on it and follow them into Chicago as well as wherever they go from there.”
“That won’t be necessary. You’ve told me all I need to know, which is where they’re headed in Chicago. From there, I’ll have a lock on them.”
“Whatever you say, sir.”
“You’ve done excellent work, Hassan.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I do have one more task for you after your long day—if you feel up to it.”
“I’m always game, sir.”
“I am familiar with your service record. You don’t hesitate to remove the enemies of progress with prejudice when necessary.”
“When it’s necessary,” Hassan says, “that’s the last situation in which you want to hesitate.”
“Beedle can drive back to Minnesota, but for you I’ll have a prop jet at the airport in Rockford to fly you to Milwaukee. An SUV will be waiting there. Drive flat out. You should get to Tillman’s house by one in the morning. Huey Darnell will be halfway through the job he’s doing…if he’s not only a quarter of the way.”
“What job is that, sir?”
“Going through the house with a fine-tooth comb, looking for anything that ties Tillman to Jane Hawk. When you get there, tell Darnell I’ve sent you to assist him.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hassan, what is your opinion of Mr. Darnell? Don’t give me a candy-coated version. I know you to be a capable and discerning man. I only want the unvarnished truth.”
“He drinks too much,” Hassan says.
“To the point as usual. Now, once you’re in Tillman’s house, you will find a gun safe in his study. I have seen it myself. You will need to open the gun safe and take an appropriate handgun from it and remove from my side the thorn that is Huey Darnell. It would be best if you shot him in the back of the head twice, execution style. The story will be that Sheriff Tillman, now in league with Jane Hawk, killed one of Homeland Security’s finest men.”
“Is the sheriff anywhere in that vicinity, sir?”
“It doesn’t matter, Hassan. When necessary, there will be ample evidence found to prove his presence during the crime. But first I really do need to know if there’s anything in the house linking him to Hawk.”
“If there is, I’ll find it, sir.”
“I know that you will, Hassan.”
Too discreet to approach while Hendrickson was on the phone, the steward now arrives with dessert and coffee. “Has everything been to your liking so far, sir?”
“Marvelous,” Hendrickson assures him. “Superb. Tell me, a little while ago, did I detect the plane banking east-northeast?”
“Yes, sir. At the moment, we’re approximately over Columbia, South Carolina.”
“In the event that port is served too close to Washington, I assume the pilot can arrange to delay landing.”
“Absolutely,” the steward says. “We can be put into the holding pattern for Reagan International if you wish.”
“I’ll let you know.”
Alone now with his dessert and coffee, Hendrickson is amused to recall how disquieted—even distressed—he had been in the security bunker at the resort, when he discovered that the ubiquitous Jane Hawk had been in Iron Furnace. For a brief time, it seemed that she must be the embodiment of some preternatural power manifested here in the flesh to enforce some natural law at the expense of all things Arcadian, an avatar against whom no wiles or weapons could prevail.
But now she has been tracked to Arkansas without her knowledge. Another automatic license-plate reading will come in soon, and he will be that much closer to knowing her destination. She is clever. However, no one is ever gifted enough to elude the many eyes of the modern state for long.
She has made another big mistake in aligning herself with Sheriff Tillman. Jane is best alone, a she-wolf who knows how to travel by moonshadows even in daylight, a solitary predator who will be brought down much sooner due to the mistakes made by any pack she runs with than she would be by her own errors. Hendrickson now has a leash on the Tillman women, though they aren’t aware of it, and when they reunite with the sheriff, Hendrickson will have him as well. When he has the sheriff, he will soon thereafter have Jane Hawk.
The disquiet he felt earlier was a transient emotion, evoked because he briefly lost his grasp on the undeniable truth that he and the Arcadians are not only on the right side of history but can rewrite all history before them. They will eliminate from the record of the past all of those facts and philosophies that they find inconvenient. As for the future, which is the history of things to come, they will write that as well, every day until forever. Now that he is again in possession of this truth, he is incapable of entertaining any misgivings.
As medicines go, there is no curing combination more effective than an orgasm, a fine dinner, a superb wine, and the possession of a sleek jet aircraft with the world attendant below and firmly in the grasp of night.