The leader of the group, a cold-eyed older man who had handed them $8,000 in cash for the charter, had made it clear that they were to land regardless of the weather, but after the third try with no runway in sight, even he agreed that a dash to Boise, Idaho, was the only reasonable backup plan.
The passengers were inside the private terminal at Boise when the two charter pilots made their decision. Whatever was going on, they wanted no part of it, and a peek inside one of the boxes confirmed their fears: a massive amount of sophisticated assault weaponry and ammunition.
The captain calculated the price of the charter, counted out the overpayment in an envelope, and taped it to the top of one of the boxes before unloading the men’s belongings on the ramp and firing up the right engine.
“We saw nothing, we heard nothing, we say nothing,” the captain said.
“Amen,” echoed the copilot.
One of the men came racing from the building at the sound of the engine start, but the captain had pushed up the throttle and raced away on just one power plant while the copilot started the other and called for an emergency takeoff clearance.
“So what now?” one of the men asked Arlin Schoen.
“Very simple,” Schoen replied. “The others should be there by now, or very close. They were driving. Get them on the satellite phone and warn them to hold in place until we can charter another aircraft. Preferably one that can handle a snowstorm. We’ll rid ourselves of all three at once.”
“What were their orders?”
“Stake out Maverick’s place and watch for Bronsky and MacCabe as well as our slippery Dr. Maverick. But if Bronsky and MacCabe end up there first, I don’t want them taken until the doctor appears and we arrive.”
Robert finished a shower and dressed before returning to the living room of the cabin to find Kat dozing in the one easy chair. The lights were off in the small room, and without a fire there was a distinct chill in the air. Outside, the porch light was on, illuminating the heavy snowfall and emphasizing the feeling of mountain isolation.
Robert sat quietly on a small chair, but Kat snapped awake with a start.
“It’s okay,” he said, holding out his hand to calm her. “It’s just me.”
She shook her head to chase away the cobwebs, then rubbed her eyes as she sat up and smiled at him. “Are you hungry?” she asked. “The good doctor’s got a well-stocked pantry.”
“So, we eat Maverick’s food and make ourselves at home?”
She nodded. “FBI business. He’ll be compensated.”
“By the way, I, ah…” Robert began, “hate to tell you, but there’s only one bed in this place, and no couch. So, I guess…”
Kat left his implied question unanswered as she stood and turned to walk into the bedroom. She surveyed the pine furniture, aware that Robert had followed and was standing in the door.
“Ever hear of a bundling board?” she said as she turned to him.
He nodded suspiciously, his eyes darting between the bed and her. “Yes. Early American thing. If you had to sleep an unmarried couple in the same bed…” He stopped, discerning her meaning.
“Very good,” she said, walking across the room to park her bag under the window. “The family would put a large board down the middle of the bed, and the two were prohibited from putting arms, legs, or other body parts across the divider.”
“So, instead of either of us sleeping in a chair in the living room…”
She nodded. “That’s right. We can use a bundling board, without the board.”
Robert was smiling. A bit too much, she concluded. “Cut it out,” she said.
“What? What am I doing?”
“You’re thinking wanton thoughts.”
“I am not. I’m… I’m merely grinning.”
She sat on the bed beside him, but not touching. They looked at themselves in a wall-mounted mirror. “Okay, ground rules,” Kat said, turning to him. “We’re still in the middle of this nightmare.”
“I know that.”
“It’s just about dark outside, we don’t know when or if Dr. Maverick is going to show up, nor whether Jordan will make it, and the other side could show up any minute. I slept in the van before we ditched it at the airport, but I’m still exhausted.”
“We should sleep first,” Robert agreed.
“Raid his refrigerator, then sleep,” she said. “I’m having trouble thinking clearly. I have the sick feeling we’re sitting ducks, but I’m convinced Dr. Maverick has answers we need desperately, and this is our best chance to find him.”
“Agreed.”
She was holding up an index finger. “I… just want you to understand…”
“What, Kat?”
“That in a different place and time, this would be a real temptation.”
“Temptation?” he said, feigning puzzlement.
“You know what I’m talking about,” she said.
Robert sat back, looking at her, his eyebrows climbing. “You were thinking of… fooling around with me?”
“Oh, stop it, Robert!” There was a small laugh, and he took it as encouragement.
“Why, that prurient thought never crossed my mind,” he said, with no conviction, his eyes and smile betraying him.
“Sure.” She smiled for the first time in hours. “I’ve been running around in a skirt too short for Baywatch, and you’ve only been reminding me all day how sexy I looked.”
She jumped up from the bed and turned to him, offering her hand. “Let’s go raid Dr. Maverick’s pantry, Robert. Then I’m going to see if he has a spare parka.”
“To wear outside?”
“No. To wear to bed.”
“Why? Are you cold?”
She shook her head slowly, biting her lip with no hint of a smile.
“No. Just the opposite.”
“We’re ready for an immediate takeoff, Mr. Secretary.”
Jordan James glanced behind him at the murky, rainy visage of the 89th Airlift Squadron’s presidential ramp at Andrews. The last-minute call for one of the Gulfstreams to fly him to a meeting in Sun Valley had been honored with typical efficiency, but takeoff hadn’t been possible, they said, before 2 A.M. The jet and the crew were ready for the nearly six-hour flight when Jordan reached the base.
“Thank you, Colonel,” Jordan said. “Let’s get moving.”
The acting Secretary of State climbed the stairs and handed his briefcase to the steward before heading for one of the plush swivel seats, his mind consumed with what lay ahead. The mission was indefensibly personal but unavoidable, with Kat’s life hanging in the balance.
An impromptu dinner finished, Kat got up and moved in awkward silence toward the bedroom, aware that Robert was hanging back and pretending to straighten up. There was a tiny gas-log fireplace in the corner, and she turned it up before walking to the window to stand and admire the silent snowfall some more.
“Suppose he might still show up tonight?” Robert asked from across the room.
“No,” she said, shaking her head without looking back. “It’s snowing too heavily and it’s too late. He won’t get here before morning. If then.”