The flashing blue and red came closer. I just drove on toward them. My mind-set was that I was a shift worker, on my way to earn my living. Now their lights were making me screw up my eyes so I could see beyond.
I wasn't worried. I felt very calm. Just wait and see. They sped past at more than sixty.
I looked in the rearview mirror. They hit the brakes; now I was sweating. I watched and made distance at the same time.
The brake lights went off. Either they'd just been slowing down or they'd changed their minds.
I needed to dump this car before first light, which was probably the earliest the owner would discover it missing. I also had to get both Kelly and me a change of clothes, and we had to get into another hotel.
Kelly started yelling, "I want to go home! I want to go home! I want my " "Kelly, we are going home! But not yet!" I had to shout to cut in.
I couldn't see her, so I tilted the mirror. She was curled up with her thumb in her mouth. My mind flashed back to the times I'd found her like that and I said, quietly, "We will, don't worry."
We were following a road that seemed to parallel the Potomac, on its west side. After about half an hour I found an all-night supermarket. I parked. There were maybe twenty or thirty vehicles outside; at that time of the morning most of them probably belonged to employees.
Kelly didn't ask why we were stopping. I turned around and said, "I'm going to get us some more clothes. Do you want anything? Shall I see if they've got a deli and we'll get some sandwiches?"
She whimpered, "Don't go, don't leave me!" She looked as if she'd been slapped. Her face was bright red, with puflfy eyes and wet hair stuck to her face. You don't take a beaten-up seven-year-old with blood on her clothes into a store after four in the morning.
I leaned over into the back, unzipped the bag, and took out the coveralls. I said, "I've got to leave you here. I need somebody to look after everything." I pointed to the bag.
"Can you do that for me? You're a big girl now, a great spy."
She nodded reluctantly.
I started to get the coveralls on while still sitting in the car seat.
"Nick?"
"What?" I was busy fighting with a leg.
"I heard shooting. Is that man dead?"
"Which man is that?" I didn't want to turn around, didn't want to face her.
"No, he's not. I think he made a mistake and thought we were someone else. He'll be OK."
I was now arching my back to get the top half on.
"The police will take him to the hospital."
That was enough of that. I quickly got out of the car and poked my head back in. Before I even started to outline the routine she said, "You're coming back, aren't you? I want to go home and see Mommy."
"Definitely, I will come back, no problems, and you will see Mommy soon."
I turned the interior light on and moved the rearview mirror so I could see my face. The deep cuts on my forehead and under my eye were still wet, the plasma trying hard to get a scab going. I spat on my hand and used the cuff of the coveralls to wipe the rest of the blood off, but there wasn't much more I could do. Industrial accident.
I signaled Kelly to lock the door and lie down. She nodded and complied.
I grabbed a cart and went through the electric door. I got money from the ATM, then two sets of everything for Kelly and me, plus a washing and shaving kit and a box of baby wipes, and some painkillers for my neck. It was hurting bad now. I could look left or right only by turning my whole body.
I must have looked like a robot. I threw in some Coke, chips, and cookies.
There weren't many shoppers. My cuts drew the odd glance but no stares.
I got back to the car and tapped on the window. I didn't say anything. Kelly stared up; the windows were now covered in condensation, so she had to wipe it with her sleeve. I could see she'd been crying. I pointed at the lock, and she opened it.
I was all big smiles.
"Hiya, how's it going?"
There wasn't much of a reply. As I dumped all the purchases onto the passenger seat, I said, "Look, I've got a present for you." I showed her a Snickers bar. There was a reluctant smile. She took it and opened it.
I looked at the car clock. It was nearly 5 a.m. We started driving toward the Beltway, then headed west.
I saw the sign for Dulles International and slowed down for the exit. We had to dump the car soon; I had to assume that the driver was an early riser.
Kelly was lying in the back, staring at the door. Either she was in a dream world, or she had been damaged mentally by what she had seen. At the moment I didn't really care which.
We were about eight miles from Dulles. I started to keep a lookout for hotels. I saw the sign for an Economy Inn.
Absolutely perfect but first, we had to get ourselves cleaned up.
As we continued on toward the airport I could see the wing lights of an aircraft making its approach about four miles away. I followed the signs to the economy parking, having stopped just short to check for cameras at the entrance. There weren't any; they must register on the way out. I took my ticket and parked among thousands of other cars.
"Kelly, we're going to get you dressed in some new clothes," I said.
I showed her what I'd bought, and as she was getting un dressed, I got out the baby wipes and cleaned her face.
"Here, let's get rid of all those tears, let's clean you all up, here you are, here's a brush." I brushed her hair too quickly; it hurt her.
"OK, let's get this sweatshirt on you. Here you go. There, you're looking good. Here's another wipe blow your nose."
While she was doing that, I got myself changed as well, then dumped all the clothes in the passenger foot well Kelly was still looking miserable as the shuttle took us to the terminal. We walked into the departures area. The terminal was busier than I'd been expecting at this time of the morning. People were checking in all along the lines of desks, hanging around in the shops, or sitting in the cafes, reading newspapers.
I wasn't saying much to Kelly, just holding her hand as I moved along, bag on my left shoulder, looking for the Ar rivals sign, then to the taxi stand. An escalator showed me the way down. We were nearly at the bottom when Kelly announced, "I need to go to the bathroom."
"You sure?" I just wanted to get out of there.
"I'm really sure."
"OK." After the last time I'd learned my lesson.
I followed signs to the rest rooms. They were to the left, near the large exit doors from international arrivals. You went in through one of two large openings in the wall and immedi lately came across a row of seven or eight disabled toilets, all unisex, and on either side of this were the entrances to the men's and women's rooms. I stayed outside in the main concourse, watching all the people who were waiting for the automatic doors to open and their loved ones to be disgorged.
You always know when you're being stared at. I'd been standing there a minute or two when I became aware. I looked up. It was an old woman, standing against the rail facing me on the opposite side of the channel made by the barriers, Obviously waiting for somebody to come through. There was a silver-haired man with her, but her eyes were fixed on my face.
She looked away, turning her back to the exit doors, even though people were streaming out with their carts. Every few seconds I heard a scream of joy as people were reunited.
What had she been looking at? The cuts on my face? I hoped it was just that. There was nothing I could do about it anyway. I would just shake it off, but keep an eye on her all the same.
Then I saw her start talking to her husband. She wasn't passing the time of day. Her body language looked urgent and agitated. He looked over in my direction, then back at her; he gave her a shrug that said, "What the hell are you talking about, woman? " She must have seen Kelly and me going into the rest rooms and said to herself, "Where do I know those two from? " I wasn't going to move. I wanted to see what she was doing. The moment she started to walk away, I'd have to take action.