Chapter 5

A big dinner helped, too. I did a scotch to start, single malt, but after that I went with the iced tea; it was a bad idea to put too much booze down.

Before I'd eaten I'd paid a quick visit to a major department store at a mall nearby. I'd come away without anything by way of a change of clothes or toiletries, and that had to be fixed. I picked up the lot and paid with my trusty plastic; conserve the cash for now. I transferred it to my now-getting-pretty-full backpack in the men's room, then walked a couple of blocks to what looked like a perfectly OK motel and checked in without a hitch. They didn't even need to see ID when I gave them my credit card, and the desk clerk said not a word about my showing up on foot, if he even noticed.

It was starting to get dark when I got back to the room after dinner. I was still feeling pretty good, Spook seemed to be looking after me just fine. This being on the run wasn't all bad, I felt a sense of, I don't know, freedom? I was on my own, no schedule, no work to go to or people to check in with, it seemed kind of liberating.

But I did, I realized, have people to check in with. Spook was one, I had to get serious with him, I couldn't stay on the run forever.

And Lisa. She should be clear by now, if they'd ever got onto her at all. I'd told her I'd call back if I got away, and I had—for now at least—and I needed to call.

First Spook. I hit "Spook2589844640321" and "send" on the cell again, this time with more confidence that he'd pick up.

He did. She did? It did? Who knew? And at this point I didn't care. "Good evening, Jack," came the simulated voice. A part of my mind noticed that he—or she, or it, whatever— knew what time it was, anyhow. Did that mean Spook was in my time zone, or close to it? "May we talk again now?"

"Uh—" I stammered, belatedly realizing I hadn't planned this out. "Sure, I guess. But first will you let me talk to Lisa?"

"I will connect." I heard a ring, but this time only one and there she was.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Lee, I promised I'd call and—"

"Uh, mom, I'm sorry, I can't talk now. Let me call you later, OK?"

Mom? What the hell?

There was a muffled garble at the other end, and then another voice came on. A man's voice. "Heyward, this is Special Agent—"

I hit the cut-off. Then I hit it again and held it, turned the phone flat off. Oh Jesus, she was still with them and I'd fucked the duck, had they had enough time to trace me? I turned the phone back on, waited for it to come up and did "Spook2589844640321" again.

"Thank you, Jack," came the fake voice. "I surmise that you feared this call might be trace-ed to your present location, is this correct?"

Goddammit, it was scary how well this guy, well, person knew what I was thinking.

"Yes," I said. "Was it? Do you know? Can you tell?"

"I know. No, it was not trace-ed to where you are. No call that you make through me may be trace-ed. Do not call otherwise, only through me. You are secure if you do this."

I took a couple of deep breaths. Well, if that's the case, what the hell? Spook sure seemed to know what he was doing. "OK, patch me through again."

This time the pickup was immediate. "Jackie, I'm sorry—"

"Never mind, Lee," I said. "Honey, I love you very much. But they can't trace me. Now give the phone to Special Agent what's-his-face and I'll try to get you sprung, OK?"

"Jack, I love you. I don't know what's going on, they've been at me for hours—"

"It's OK, hon. Let me talk to the guy."

There were some more muffled sounds. Then—

"This is Special Agent Ashley. Heyward, I have some advice—"

"Shut up, Special Agent Asshole," I snapped. "Listen for a minute. And don't bother trying to trace this call, you can't."

There was only startled silence at the other end.

"Good," I said. "Now, first, do you know why you're after me?"

"We have a terrorist alert—"

"Oh, fuck that. I ask again, do you know why you're after me?"

Long pause. My point was, was I talking to a ribbon clerk or somebody who really knew something? His voice came back: "You attempted to log into a system you are unauthorized to access," he said.

"Do you know the name of the system?" I demanded. Did he have any clearance worth mentioning?

"That name is classified," he said, this time slowly.