Chapter 24

Thule called Matika back once he was on the road, "Can you talk?"

"Yes," said Matika, "I'm headed to Mannsborough right now."

"What do you know?" Thule asked.

"Not much," said Matika, "Jake called me on my cell. Apparently, Randy and Ivan had some kind of fight about Mrs. Vandevoort. Randy left and came back with a gun. Randy shot Ivan. Jake shot Randy. At some point, Randy shot Jake. It's all very confusing."

"Is anyone dead?" asked Thule.

"No one was when Jake called me," said Matika, "Jake's wound was superficial. He thinks he hit Randy in the stomach. There's some sort of private ambulance up at the estate right now. Jake said there was a lot of blood and Ivan was unconscious by the time the doctor got there."

"Where's Randy?" asked Jake.

"He slipped out in the confusion," said Matika. There are security teams all over the woods, looking for him.

Something clicked in Thule's mind, "Are you saying that the police don't know anything about this?"

"Right," said Matika, "They're trying to handle it all privately right now."

"Matika," said Thule as calmly as he could, "how soon will you be in Mannsborough?"

"Fifteen more minutes," said Matika.

"I need you to go up to the estate and see if there are any local police cars up there," said Thule, "Just because they didn't go through official channels doesn't mean that the police don't know. Start calling the team. We need to move on this thing tonight if it's going to happen before Vladi becomes too suspicious to play along."

"Thule," said Matika quietly, "there is no team anymore. In order for Anne to get the indictments, we had to make an accounting to the higher ups. We're all on pending administrative action. Only I'm still authorized to have anything to do with this investigation. If any of the others get involved, they'll be kicked out of the Bureau for sure."

"Fuck," growled Thule, "the Bureau thinks that this investigation only merits one agent?"

"No," said Matika, "they've assigned a team. My partner Anders is leading it. Before you say anything, Thule, he's a good man. He didn't want to believe the rumors about the Vandevoorts, but when the evidence was there for him to see, it made him sick. He's got nearly twenty years of experience in the field. Please, listen to what he has to say."

"Fine," said Thule, "tell him to get to my house. We have to move on this."

"Thule," said Matika, "he's called off the sting we set up. He wants to go about it a different way."

Thule gave an incoherent growl of frustration, "Tell him if he wants my fucking cooperation, he's to be at my house by eight pm. I'll listen to what he has to say. But, if I don't like it, I'm going through with this, with or without the FBI's help."

"Thule, I..."

"Just tell him," growled Thule, "eight pm." He snapped his phone shut.

Thule fumed for a few minutes as he drove. Marigold said, "That didn't sound good."

"It was one of the disaster scenarios I played in my head when I had to decide at what point to go to the FBI," said Thule. "So, it's not entirely a surprise."

"What exactly happened?" asked Dawn.

"The FBI decided to send in a professional to take over this case," said Thule, "He apparently does not care for my plan for tomorrow."

"What does he propose instead?" asked Marigold.

"I have no idea," said Thule, the anger in his voice barely contained, "He didn't bother to ask my opinion, find out why I made the plans I did, or secure my cooperation. "

"Maybe you should try to look at it from his perspective," said Dawn quietly, "He's an experienced FBI field agent. He doesn't know you, except that you're some high school kid playing in his sandbox. Why would he consult you?"

Thule bit back an angry retort, looking at Dawn's face in the rear-view mirror. She looked like she was ready to be hit or screamed at for speaking up. He took a deep breath and counted to five before speaking.

"I'll give him a chance to explain his perspective," said Thule evenly, "But his actions so far suggest that he's not going to give me the same chance. I've been preparing for this over the last four years. I doubt he's been privvy to it for four days. He's making a mistake if he thinks I have nothing to contribute."

"You sound mad," observed Dawn.

Thule sighed, "I thought I was doing a pretty good job of not sounding mad."

Dawn shook her head, "You sounded like you were trying not to sound mad and not doing a very good job of it. That's even scarier."

Thule took another deep breath, "Sorry," he said, "I need to not make any decisions when I'm that angry. That's how really awful mistakes get made. Thank you, Dawn."

"So," asked Dawn, "if you have to do this without the FBI, does that mean I can help?"

Thule winced, "Not if I can help it."

"Help with what?" asked Marigold, "What is your plan for tomorrow anyway?"

Thule sighed. He'd held off telling Marigold his plan this long and hoped to not have to explain it to her until it was completed, "I need to know where Vladi put June Kane's body. I suspect that there will be more bodies there. Mannsborough High has had an unusually high suicide and runaway rate over the last four years."

He took a deep breath before going on, "I've been over a hundred scenarios in my head for this. They all require a corpse. Since neither Randy or Vladi has invited me into their confidence regarding victim disposal and I'd rather not wait until they do, I need to produce one. I could try to get a real one, but I don't even want to think about what sort of response I would get if I tried to acquire a corpse young, fresh, and pretty enough to fool Vladi. I toyed with the idea of actually killing Brianne. But, what I ultimately came up with was this..."

Thule took another deep breath before committing to say it, "The plan is to take Matika, have her soak in a bathtub full of ice to bring down her body temperature, then make her up with blue body paint, lipstick, the works, wrap her in a plastic tarp, put her in the trunk and call Vladi over to help me get rid of her. He'll lead me to where he disposes of bodies. Once I know where that is, I can call in the cavalry."

"But, Thule," asked Marigold, "Vladi's not going to just stand there while you call for support, is he?"

"No," said Thule, "I'm going to have to kill or incapacitate Vladi."

"So," asked Marigold slowly, "if Matika won't do it, you're going to use Dawn?"

No one spoke. Despite the early summer warmth, Thule felt a chill.

Finally, Marigold looked up at him, "Are you sure you couldn't just kill Brianne?"

"Mari," said Dawn, "please don't pull rank on me here. I keep..."

Marigold shook her head, "As appealing as the idea is, I'm terrified of enclosed spaces. I would have a screaming fit if someone put me in a trunk." Suddenly, and idea dawned on her, "Unless you could chloroform me."

"It wouldn't work," said Thule, "I need whoever is in there to be able to hold their breath when I show them to Vladi. Breathing would be a dead giveaway that you're not... you know, dead."

Thule's phone rang. A glance at Caller ID told him it was Matika.

"There are no police cars up at the estate," she said, "What should I do next?"

"Shouldn't you ask your partner?" asked Thule.

"He's in transit," said Matika, "He told me to sit tight."

Thule sighed, partly in relief, "Keep watching the estate. I need to know if they're going to call Vladi or one of their other cops in."

"I'm not sure I can do that," said Matika, "I drove past once, but they've got a ton of guys watching the front gate. I can't just sit across the street and, if I drive by too many times, they're going to figure it out."

"How are you at climbing trees?" Thule asked.

"Actually, I used to be quite the tomboy," said Matika.

Thule explained how to get into his house, where to find the required surveillance equipment, and where his fake duck blind was.

"Thule," said Matika, "I want you to listen to what Anders has to say. He has a lot of experience. But, if you're still determined to go through with this, I'm in. But, it may mean the difference between whether or not I have a job when this is all done. So, please listen to him."

"All right," said Thule, "I'll listen. But, I can't make any promises."

As they pulled into his neighborhood, Thule said, "Dawn, lie down."

Dawn did, "Not ashamed of me, are you?"

"No," said Thule. "Marigold, take my cell phone off of my belt and hand it to Dawn. Dawn, dial up the number for Matika stored there. Tell her to get to the house as quickly as possible. I'm pretty sure we just passed Randy's car in the woods back there."

Dawn dialed and listened, "No answer. It went to voice mail."

"Shit," said Thule, "try again."

"Still no answer," said Dawn.

"Leave a message," said Thule, "Then, call Anne. Tell her to get a hold of Anders and tell him what's going on."

As Thule pulled into his garage, he reached into the glove compartment, pulled out the pistol, and said, "We have a couple of minutes at least. Act as natural as possible. Remember. We're not even supposed to know that Randy has been shot. We've been out of town and out of touch all weekend."

"What do you think he wants?" Marigold asked.

"I don't know," said Thule, "but I don't like any of the options."

Inside, Thule said, "If anybody starts shooting, I want you two to get out of there as fast as possible. Run for the woods and don't look back. Call the FBI field office and Jonas. You'll want to stay and help, but you're not going to be much help if he decides to shoot you."

The knock came at the door. Thule said, "Get to the back door." Marigold and Dawn stood motionless, so he added emphatically, "Go. If he starts shooting and you don't bolt like a couple of rabbits, I'll..." he sighed, "Just make sure you run."

Marigold and Dawn walked to the back door, watching as Thule drew his pistol and went to the front door. Standing to the side, he opened it.

"Dule," said Svetlana, "you have to help Randy. He's been shot."

She was barely holding Randy up over her shoulder. He seemed barely conscious, but held a sleek, black handgun firmly. He was wearing a gray sweatshirt, soaked through with blood. Her own cream-colored blouse and blue jeans were smeared with it.

Thule took Randy over his own shoulder, "Marigold," he said, "there's a big first aid kit under my father's bed. Get it. Dawn, call 911. He needs a doctor."

"No 911," said Randy, "and no doctors. I'm fucked up pretty bad, but I'll live if I can get this damned hunk of lead out of me."

"There's a lot of blood," said Thule, laying Randy down on his bed, "You really should see a doctor."

Randy laughed, wincing as he did, "I need to keep this quiet, Thule. This isn't the first time Vandevoorts have shot each other. I just need to get patched up and get to Amsterdam before this thing blows up. I have... allies in the family there." He winced, "At least, as much as Vandevoorts have other Vandevoorts as allies."

As he spoke, Marigold had cut away his shirt and was examining the wound with a small flashlight. Randy looked down at her, "Marigold, would you excuse us?"

"I need to get this bullet out," said Marigold.

"It's been in there for hours," said Randy, "a few more minutes won't kill me."

Marigold frowned, but left the room. Svetlana closed the door behind her.

"Thule," said Randy, "things are not going to go as smoothly as I hoped. But, this may be an opportunity. There's been a split in the family for a long time, between the Dutch and the American branches. I think we can reunite both, but you'll need to marry Tryne for that."

Thule scowled, "We can discuss that later. Let's get you patched up and on your way to Amsterdam."

"We need to discuss it now," said Randy, "I saw you at the prom Friday. I know how much you must really love Marigold. I can even see why. You need to break that off before it goes any farther or you'll never want to marry anyone else." As he spoke, he looked at Svetlana, whose eyes were starting to mist up.

"If you marry Tryne," said Randy, "I can build alliances in Amsterdam. I have friends there who want to see the family unified. With you and Tryne in charge of the family here, we could do that."

"All right," said Thule, "I'll think about it."

"No," said Randy, taking Thule's wrist with the hand that didn't have a gun, "promise me."

"All right," said Thule, "I promise. Now, let's get that bullet out of you."

Thule opened the door, letting Marigold and Dawn back in. With Dawn assisting, Marigold got set up so that she could work on the wound. As Thule stepped back toward the doorway, Dawn backed up to rest against him and whispered, "Why are we helping Randy?"

Thule hugged her from behind, "We're trying to keep him calm until the FBI gets here. He's still got a gun and he's still dangerous. Besides, I want him alive to testify against Ivan."

"We should let him die," said Dawn.

"That bullet won't kill him," said Thule, "not for a long, long time. He'd get other help before it did."

Whatever Marigold was doing to him, Randy cried out in pain.

"Easy there," said Thule. He reached for Randy's gun, "You're going to shoot somebody if you're not careful."

Randy pulled the gun away from Thule, "I need to protect myself."

Thule crouched down, looking concerned, "Do you want something for the pain?"

Randy nodded, "Whatever you've got."

Thule crouched down in his closet, "I think I've got some... oh, wait. I moved it. Hang on."

He came back in with a glass of dark rum and a bottle.

"Give me the bottle," said Randy.

"Start with the glass," said Thule, handing it to him, "I don't want you so drunk that you can't defend yourself or run for it."

Randy nodded, "Good thinking. Always watching my back, aren't you, buddy?" He drank down the glass of rum in three swallows.

"You know it," said Thule.

"Wow," said Randy, looking at the empty glass, "I must be hurt worse than I thought or else this stuff is really..." A look of realization and betrayal crossed his eyes. He slurred, "Hey, you..." Then, he yawned hugely and was out cold, the gun slipping from his hand and thudding on the floor.

Before anyone else could move, Svetlana crouched down and picked up the pistol while pushing Randy's sweat-soaked hair back and kissing him on the forehead, "My poor Randy," she said, "He has had a very hard day."

"Thule," said Marigold, "hold him in place. I've almost got it."

Thule placed his hands on Randy's ribs and leg, holding him down. Marigold worked a pair of tweezers into the wound, working something inside back and forth. After a few tense minutes, the bullet came free with a sucking sound, fresh red blood oozing out behind it.

Marigold waved Svetlana over, indicating a fresh pack of gauze she'd put over the wound, "Hold that in place. If it soaks through, don't pull it away. Just add another pack on top of it. Just, don't let it slip or you'll undo all of the good you're doing." She put her hand on Randy's gun, now in Svetlana's hand, "Let me take that. I'll keep an eye out while you do that."

Svetlana looked to Thule, who smiled at her reassuringly. She let go of the gun. Tears of relief were rolling down her face.

"Thank you both," said Svetlana, "I told Randy he could count on you."

A few minutes later, Thule heard a car pulling up outside and a door slamming shut.

"Who is that?" Svetlana asked.

Dawn looked out the window, "Older woman, maybe early forties, short blonde hair, navy blue suit."

"That sounds like Anne," said Thule, "Marigold, would you take over for Sveta, please? She'll want to meet Anne."

Thule and Svetlana went out into the living room to meet Anne. Thule let her in the front door before turning to Svetlana. When he turned, he said, "Sveta, Anne is investigating the Vandevoorts. She'd like to talk to you about some of Ivan's..."

Svetlana's face had gone white with rage. He hand flew up to slap Thule. Thule caught her wrist. She reached up with the other hand, slapping him on the as-yet unmarked side of his face. Then, she pulled away and bolted for the back door.

"Much better," said Thule, rubbing his cheek. Anne looked like she was going to give chase. He put a hand on her shoulder, "Let her go. I doubt she's done anything you can hold her for and she might come around. Randy's in the bedroom."

As they walked in, Marigold was taping fresh gauze onto the wound.

"Is he... ?" Anne asked, hand flying to her mouth.

"No," said Thule, "he's unconscious. I gave him a cocktail of rum and Rohypnol. We'll want to get him to a doctor soon, though. I couldn't afford to be too subtle with the dosage. If you take him to a doctor in the area, there's a chance you could get him killed. Is there a staff physician at the field office in New York?" Anne nodded.

"Great," said Thule, "that will get him out of danger and give me time to get what I need to do done before anyone is the wiser. He may come to before you get there, though. What are you driving?"

"My minivan," said Anne, "I came straight from home."

"All right," said Thule, "we'll have to secure him there. He might wake up between here and there. Take his gun in case... Where's his gun?"

Marigold looked around, "I must have put it down when I was working on his wound. I guess Svetlana picked it up."

"Well," said Thule, "at least she didn't shoot me. We'll just have to make sure he's well secured. Marigold, is he ready to travel?"

Marigold nodded, "as ready as I can make him."

Thule carried Randy out to Anne's minivan. With Dawn and Marigold's help, he secured Randy's legs to the back seat. Dawn took out her borrowed handcuffs and secured Randy's wrists to the other side of the seat before handing Anne the keys.

"Try to bring those back if you can," she told Anne, "I may still have a use for them."

"Maybe I should wait for Anders," said Anne uncertainly.

"I don't know how long Randy is going to stay out," said Thule. "You'll want to get moving. Besides, I need you to do this for me, Anne. If Anders isn't here when you leave, he can't give you any orders you'd have to disobey in order to help me."

Anne looked like she was going to say something. Thule said, "I know you want to help me or you wouldn't be here. I'd rather it didn't cost your job."

Anne shook her head, "Thank you, Thule, but I'm pretty sure none of us, with the possible exception of Matika, are going to have jobs after this, one way or another. I know John and Helene are ready to follow you to the gates of hell and I suppose that I am, too. Just tell me what you want and I'll tell them."

Thule nodded, "You have no idea how much I appreciate that. Tell them I expect to move tonight and to be ready. I'll talk to Anders, but I doubt he'll be amenable to working with me."

Anne nodded, "I suspect you're right. He's very 'by the book.' I'll let the others know." She kissed him on the cheek and ruffled his hair as best she could before getting into her van and driving off.

While he was still standing on the lawn, Thule's phone rang. It was Matika.

"Thule," she said unevenly, "I need help."

"Where are you?" asked Thule.

"I'm not sure," said Matika, "one of Ivan's goons took a shot at me as I was coming down from the blind. I think I got him, but I also think I broke my ankle when I fell. I'm in a lot of pain and not sure how long I'm going to stay conscious this time."

"What do you see around you?"

Matika paused long enough that Thule thought she might have passed out. Then, she began to describe the scene. When she mentioned a stream, Thule interrupted her, "I know where you are. Stay put and call Anders."

"Thule, I'm sorry," said Matika, "I called Anders first. He told me to call you, since you probably know the terrain better."

"No, you did the right thing," said Thule. "Hang tight. I'll be there as soon as I can. Give me Anders's number."

She recited it. Thule repeated it back to her for confirmation. Then, he said, "I need to get off the line for a few minutes. Will you be okay?"

Matika gave a pained chuckle, "Thule, I am an FBI field agent. I'll manage."

"Okay," said Thule, "hang tight."

Thule went into the house, quickly explaining where he was going as he changed into black clothes.

"Dawn," he said, "call Jake. Make sure he can speak freely before you say too much. Ask him to come down here and bring guns for you two if he can."

Dawn nodded. Thule took her and Marigold into his arms and kissed them both.

"Leave the bed the way it is," said Thule, "Don't wash or destroy the bedspread. I'm going to be using it to add credibility tonight. Once Jake is here, go to town and buy a half dozen bags of ice. I'll be back as soon as I can.

In his car on the way over, Thule dialed the number Matika had given him.

"Agent Harter," said Anders when he answered the phone.

"Agent Harter, this is Thule Roemer. I'm on my way to where your partner is. How close are you?"

"I'm in Mannsborough, headed towards the Vandevoort estate," said Anders, "But, I have no idea where the fuck I'm going."

Thule described the route Anders needs to take. Anders said, "Got it. What the fuck was she doing out in the middle of the woods anyway?"

"There's a platform I built out there that has a clear view of the Vandevoort estate. She was watching the estate."

Thule heard Anders give a sharp intake of breath. When he spoke, it was obvious that he was trying to control his anger. He said evenly, "Kid, if anything happens to her, you'll regret it."

"I don't need you to tell me that, Agent Harter," said Thule, "You'll want to be careful out in those woods. They're probably still crawling with Vil Umanski's men."

"And I don't need you to tell me how to do my job, Mr. Roemer," Anders said, breaking the connection.

"Prick," said Thule before putting his phone back.

By the time he reached the pull-off, there were already two cars there. He hoped they were Matika and Anders's. Drawing his gun out of his waistline, he clicked the safety off and headed to the platform at a trot.

As he neared the tree, he saw a figure in black lying supine on the path. A quick glance made checking for a pulse unnecessary. The man had an absurdly-neat bullet hole in his forehead and a look of surprise on his face. Bracing himself, Thule took the M-16 from the man's grip and the pistol from his holster. Slinging the automatic rifle over his back, he kept one pistol in each hand as he moved up the path. When he reached where he expected Matika to be, he saw another figure in black crouched by a rock.

Thule dropped into firing position, "Freeze," he shouted, "flat on the ground."

"Pick one, kid," said the figure in black, "Personally, I'd rather finish patching up my partner's ankle so we can get the hell out of here."

"Agent Harter," said Thule, "so nice to finally meet your back. We need to get out of here. Our cars are at the most likely point of egress from this part of the woods. Any team coming out is bound to see them."

Anders looked over his shoulder to say something, but interrupted the thought, "Jesus Christ, kid. Were you going for Rambo or Chow Yung Fat and do you even know how to use those things?"

"Some day, if we have time," said Thule, "I'll be happy to show you what I know."

"All right," said Anders, "Now that you're here, I'm going to carry her to the car, then. I'm trusting you to cover me."

Thule led the way back to the cars, vaguely disappointed that no one came after them or took a shot. Driving out, he led them the slightly longer way down the other side of the mountain and around to his house, so that they wouldn't have to pass the Vandevoort estate again. By the time they got to the house, Matika was conscious again and able to hobble inside by leaning on Anders's shoulder.

"Whose car is that?" asked Anders.

"Jake's," said Thule. "He's an ally. I asked him to come by and protect the girls."

"I don't think so," said Anders. "I saw that car outside of the Vandevoort estate."

"I know," said Thule, "He also helped us set up the sting with Brianne. He's on our side."

"You were involved in that?" asked Anders, standing upright. Matika stumbled and almost fell before both men caught her and carried her the rest of the way.

Inside, Jake was standing in the living room explaining some aspect of firing a pistol. Marigold and Dawn both had pistols of their own and were copying his action, meaning that all three were facing Thule's bedroom.

When the front door burst open, all three pivoted to face it, Jake dropping into firing position.

"Jesus Christ," said Anders, "are you running some sort of apocalyptic cult here?"

"I'll give you a pamphlet later," Thule deadpanned. He turned to Matika, "Let's get you prone and get some blankets over you. I don't want you going into shock."

Anders started to walk towards Thule's bedroom. Thule said, "No, not in there. But, Anders had already seen something that interested him."

"Mother of God," he exclaimed, "did you butcher a pig in here?"

"No," said Thule, still standing in the middle of the living room, supporting Matika, "that's Randy Vandevoort's blood." He led Matika into Dawn's room.

Anders followed close behind, "What the fuck is going on here? If that's Randy Vandevoort's blood, where the fuck is he?"

"He's on his way to your New York branch office," said Thule, "Anne is taking him."

"Anne from legal?" asked Anders. "She was ordered..."

"She decided this was more important than her orders," said Thule quietly.

Anders scowled at Thule as Marigold shouldered past him with the first aid kit, "A lot of good people are going to lose their jobs because of you, Roemer."

"I know," said Thule, sighing. "I didn't want it to work out like this." He sat down on the opposite side of the bed from Matika, "Agent Nazarov tells me you have a different idea for getting Vladi to tell us where the bodies are buried. I'm willing to listen to what you have to say."

Anders glared at him, "I would think it would be simple. Show him the video you took. You've got him dead to rights. Grant him a deal if he cooperates. We do it all the time."

"It won't work," said Matika from the bed.

Anders looked at her, "What? Why won't it work?"

"Something bothered me about it from the start," said Matika. "I talked to Anne about it and we figured it out. Right now, we've got him maybe on rape charges. But, without a body, we've got nothing else. He's a cop, Anders. He's going to figure that out. Do you really think he's going to turn over a bunch of bodies and expose himself to prosecution on multiple murders in order to protect himself from a single count of rape? It just doesn't make sense."

"Anne said this?" asked Anders.

Matika nodded, "Yes."

"We don't know there's more than one corpse or that this cop will take Roemer to the same place," said Anders.

"I'm betting there are and he will," said Matika. "I can name at least six girls I would bet my eye teeth are buried there."

"Shit," said Anders, "it makes sense. Now what?"

"Listen to Thule," said Matika. "His plan is a good one."

"No," said Anders. "It's too dangerous and puts too many civilians at risk. The Bureau would never approve something like that."

"It's not a Bureau operation," said Thule. "I'm doing it with or without your help. As soon as it gets dark, I'm calling Vladi. Once he shows me where to bury Dawn, I'll call you with the GPS coordinates. You can do what you want with them."

"Or," said Thule, standing face-to-face with the older man, "you can arrest me now. Those are your choices."

"I have a better idea," said Matika. "You two can drop your pants and we'll settle this with a ruler."

Marigold tried to turn her head so that Thule wouldn't see her laughing. Thule unpuffed his chest and took a step back, "I'd like to have you watching my back," he said quietly. "Matika says you have a lot of experience with this sort of thing and really know what you're doing."

Anders glared at him for a few seconds, but couldn't maintain it. "Fine," he growled. "Nobody I work with is going to have a job after this anyway. Why should I? I can still retire with a seventy-five percent pension if I have to. What do you need from me?"

"Hang on," said Thule, "I'll get my maps."

"Jesus Fucking Christ," shrieked Dawn from the bathroom.

"It sounds like she's being murdered in there," said Jake.

Thule shook his head, "They're just adding ice to the bath. She needs to be cold when I show her to Vladi." As he spoke, he unfolded the area map he'd brought out. There were two wide circles drawn centered on Mannsborough. He said, "According to the timestamp on the camera, Vladi left with June Kane at four oh five pm. He checks back in with dispatch at eleven twenty. Assuming he didn't stop to have dinner with a dead girl in his trunk and didn't want to risk speeding too much even in a squad car and giving him one to two hours to dispose of the body, I figured out that his destination should be within these two bands. Obviously, this is not an exact science, but it should give us a rough idea of where we're headed."