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and took a moment to stick the gum he d been chewing onto the door handle of
the car next to him. Smiling mildly to himself as he mounted the stairs, he
hummed his tune and thought of the handful of goo someone was going to get. He
was puzzled when he opened the door that joined his room to the next and saw
Vanecroft s burly form daintily packing underwear into a faded old plastic
Samsonite.
What happened? Reeves asked.
We re shutting down, Vanecroft answered sullenly. He was dressed
uncharacteristically in shorts and a polo shirt. His calves bulged from below
the hem of the shorts like small watermelons.
Because? Reeves said, surprised.
Vanecroft shrugged. The thick muscles surrounding his neck heaved like plow
blades. Boss said it s over. Something about the regulars being involved now.
Everything will be handled at the right place in the right time. This whole
thing never happened.
Vanecroft looked at him maliciously and added, He wanted me to tell you
that.
His dark little eyes, dangerous and unfeeling, were set close to the bridge of
his nose, and it wasn t hard for people to take offense at the expression that
typically graced his face. But Reeves knew that his partner was just angry,
period. He was angry with his government and angry at the world. On a much
smaller scale, he was angry at having drawn the night shift on this
assignment. He bitched about it openly. But someone had to have rank, and
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Reeves, being almost twenty years senior, got the nod.
It wasn t that he thought he was superior to Vanecroft. Reeves was too
cautious for that. He respected his counterpart, his training as a Ranger and
his record in combat, even after the way he d been discharged from the army.
Reeves was familiar with the difficulties of adhering to rules written by
scholars behind a desk when you were faced with live action out in the field.
Vanecroft s only crime was that he got caught. Gunning down Iraqi prisoners
wasn t all that unusual during the Gulf War. The problem Vanecroft had was
that his platoon had done it too far behind American lines. Reeves understood
how these things happened. Vanecroft s dishonorable discharge had nothing to
do with the reason why he found the man at times too much to bear.
Now he pursed his lips irritably at the subtle affront, but said nothing. The
comment about the whole thing never happening didn t deserve a response.
Reeves was a professional. He knew that everything they did never happened.
He d spent the better part of his life doing things that never happened, and
this topped the list. He could imagine the fallout if this Ford character
really did get away with killing the president. He shook his head and chuckled
at the lunacy of it, remembering the stories some of the old-timers in
Military Intelligence used to tell about how the FBI knew Kennedy was going to
get it. Vanecroft looked at him quizzically, but Reeves wasn t saying
anything. He d show the big buffalo how quiet he could be. He d just enjoy
this little private joke to himself.
Black humor: That s what it was. There was something about Ford, about the way
he talked, the way he was handling his affairs, that told Reeves the guy was
for real. If anyone could pull off an assassination of the president, it was
hard to imagine a better candidate than Ford. What had he said to his
girlfriend? This was his game.
Reeves hoped that for the sake of the people in charge they knew what they
were doing. If anyone had bothered to ask him, he would tell them the guy
should be taken out right away. A late-night visit, a tiny needle inserted
into the hairy part on the back of his neck, and a simple heart attack. That
was the easiest way to take care of something like this, and everyone knew it.
But Reeves liked his job and he knew he wouldn t keep it by telling the people
upstairs how to do things. What success he had enjoyed in his career had come
by keeping his mouth shut and achieving his objectives as they were given to
him.
He thought of saying something along those lines to Vanecroft and slipping in
another jab about his seniority. But bitterness oozed out of his partner, and
he knew even a small comment could incite something that he hadn t the energy
for. Instead, he nodded cheerfully and returned to his own room. On his way
out the door he turned and said mysteriously, You may not want to pack so
fast. Something happened and they may not want us out of here so fast.
Vanecroft looked at him angrily, searching his face for some clue. But Reeves
said nothing more. He closed the door tight and threw the bolt before opening
up his digital phone. He dialed his own special number and then punched in a
security access code.
It s me, he said.
I ordered no further contact, came the emotionless voice from the other end.
Haven t you seen Vanecroft?
The girl knows, Reeves said, cutting right to the chase. She went through
the stuff in his office. He caught her and she told him she knew what he was
planning. They had a tiff and she left.
Where the hell did she go? the voice demanded. It was fraught with emotion,
something that nearly made Reeves wonder if he was speaking with the right
person. Until now, emotion had never been a part of the equation.
I have no idea, he responded calmly. He was used to the kind of crap that
was about to come, but he knew how to play the game. He had his orders and he
stuck to them. The higher-ups would always chide you for failing to use
initiative, but Reeves knew that initiative could also get you eliminated.
You should have followed her. The complaint came as if on cue. Didn t you
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think of following her?
Of course not, Reeves said. I was told to stay right there and listen to
everything that was said and watch everything that was done. If I left, I
wouldn t have been following my orders.
There was substantial huffing on the other end of the line and then pensive
silence. Finally, Can you find her?
Reeves bunched up his face doubtfully. I don t know, he said. I hadn t
thought about it. It won t be easy. I have no idea where she could be.
Now, how the hell is that possible after weeks of surveillance? snapped his
boss.
Because I haven t put one ounce of thought into what she s doing and why.
That wasn t what we were ordered to do. We were ordered to stay on top of him,
to listen in to what happened around the house. I ve seen her go places, but I
never even thought to find out where. She never spoke to anyone on the phone
except her one friend and her office in New York. To be honest with
you Reeves thought of the salacious moments he d spent training his spotting
scope on her nearly naked figure as she lounged by the water s edge she s
kind of a loner.
What did she say before she left?
Not much, Reeves replied, digging deep in his brain. She said he would go
to jail. She didn t say by her, though. She said she wasn t no patriot, but
she wasn t going to be a part of what he was planning to do. I presume she s
just going to drop out of sight until it s all over.
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