“I’m with my sisters,” Patrick said irritably. “We’re visiting our mother. Why would anybody think I’m trying to flee?” Nancy and Margaret’s eyes widened in surprise when they heard that.
“How soon can you get back?”
“I can’t fly tonight,” Patrick said.
“Why not?”
“I’ve had a drink,” he said. “I can’t fly after taking a drink.”
“ Now you’re worried about breaking the law?” the vice president retorted.
“It’s not just the law, Madam Vice President, it’s safety of flight.”
“Madam Vice President?” Margaret exclaimed in a whisper. “You’re talking to the vice president of the United States …?”
Patrick put a finger to his lips to shush his sisters. “Tomorrow I need to drop my sisters off in Sacramento, then—”
“Put them on a plane in the morning and come directly back to Battle Mountain first thing,” the vice president said. “We’ve got to get out in front of this. Are you reading me, General?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Patrick said. The connection was terminated.
“Were you just talking to the vice —”
Patrick held up a hand. “Not so loud, guys,” he said. “I’ve got to go back to Battle Mountain first thing in the morning. I’ll put you guys on a flight back to Sacramento.”
“What’s going on, Patrick?” Nancy asked in a whisper. “Why did the vice president think you were trying to flee?”
“She didn’t, but other people might think I was.” He stood up and kissed both his sisters on the top of their heads. “I’m sure you’ll hear all about it on the news tomorrow morning.”
They saw it the next morning from about thirty miles out: several columns of thick black smoke issuing from the base. Patrick was advised to stay away from the smoke but was still cleared to land.
“It’s the housing area, Dad!” Brad said as they entered the traffic pattern. He looked carefully, and then his mouth dropped open. “I can’t see our trailer through the smoke, Dad. Wow, it looks like dozens of trailers caught on fire!”
Patrick made the landing, taxied to his hangar, put the P21 °Centurion away, then drove over to the Civil Air Patrol hangar. Several members of CAP were inside. “Hope you had a nice vacation, Patrick,” Rob Spara said. “You heard the news?”
“About our surveillance operation? Yes,” Patrick replied. “What about the fires?”
“They’re saying it was rival survivalist or fundamentalist groups — whatever they are,” David Bellville said. “No one really knows. It broke out early this morning. All of the civilians are being put up in shelters at the high school until they can be relocated.” He put a hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “I think your trailer was one of them, General.”
“I had a feeling it might be,” Patrick said. “That’s how my luck has been running lately. Has anyone heard from the Justice Department or the FBI?” Everyone shook their heads. “I spoke with the vice president last night. She thinks everything is going to be shut down and the equipment confiscated by the FBI. I’d like to get copies of all the latest sensor scans, as many as we can save.”
“Why don’t we just erase everything?”
“We don’t want to be accused of destroying evidence,” Patrick said. “Besides, I think the images will prove that we’re not violating anyone’s privacy. And there’s nothing illegal about making backups.”
“I’ll take care of it,” David Bellville said, and hurried off.
“Should we get Dr. Masters to pull those sensors off the planes?” John de Carteret asked.
“Let’s not panic,” Patrick said. “The more stuff we do that looks like a cover-up, the worse it will go for us. The cover-up is always worse than the crime. I’d be more than happy to stand in front of a judge and jury and explain what we were doing.”
Patrick put in a call to Jon Masters: “Where are you guys?” he asked over the secure voice connection.
“Ahhh… I think it might be better if you didn’t know, Patrick,” Jon said.
“Gotcha,” Patrick said. “Probably so, since I’m sure I’ll be questioned by the FBI soon. I’m surprised they’re not here already. What’s going on?”
“We were told early yesterday evening to gather our stuff and depart,” Jon said. “Not the downlinks or surveillance equipment, but… you know, the other stuff.”
“Gotcha. Who told you to take off?”
“Ahhh…”
“Gotcha. Talk to you soon.”
Patrick, Gia, and Brad drove over to the housing area. Sure enough, their trailer was one of dozens caught in the blaze. They were prevented from going near it by base firefighters. “How did it start?” Patrick asked the deputy fire chief at the checkpoint.
“Too early to tell, General,” the chief said. “The police were summoned out here last night because of some arguments between two or three groups, but everything broke up shortly after the police showed up. A few hours later, we got the call. It looks like the origin was very close to your trailer, sir.”
“ My trailer?”
“Good thing you weren’t home — whatever was used as the primary, it was hot and powerful — more powerful than dynamite, maybe PETN or RDX,” the fire chief said. “We’ll start the investigation shortly, along with the Air Force Office of Special Investigations and the FBI. Sorry, sir. We’ll let you know what happens.”
They drove back to Patrick’s office in silence. Patrick brought Gia and Brad something to drink and fixed himself coffee. “Everybody all right?” he said once they were settled.
“I’m cool,” Brad said. “It’s funny — all I have was the overnight stuff we brought on the trip, but I’m not bummed. I can’t think of anything important I lost except maybe my laptop. I guess it’s because I didn’t have that much to begin with.”
“Gia?” She had been completely silent since landing at Battle Mountain, and now she was staring blankly at some spot on Patrick’s desk. “You haven’t said much, sweetie.” Patrick reached out and touched her arm. “Are you—”
“Don’t touch me!” she cried out, jumping out of her seat so quickly that her drink and Patrick’s coffee went flying. Gia wrapped her arms around her waist and began to sob. “I could have been killed last night if we were at that trailer!” She looked at Patrick and Brad in amazement. “You two are acting as if nothing’s happened! First you say that we have to go back right away because you might have to talk with the FBI, and then your trailer is blown up — and neither of you seems to think it’s anything out of the ordinary! What is wrong with you two?” And she stormed out, pushing the door open so hard that it rebounded off the wall.
“Gia! Wait!” Patrick shouted. He started for the door…
… and ran headlong into none other than Special Agent Philip Chastain, accompanied by another man he didn’t recognize. “Just the man I want to see,” Chastain said, showing his badge. “Going somewhere, General?”
“My girlfriend—”
“I think she wants to be alone right now,” Chastain said. “I’m going to need a few things from you.”
“I’m not answering any questions without my—”
“Oh, that broken record again,” Chastain said. Patrick noticed that the agent was wearing a different kind of shirt, one with a much higher collar — obviously to hide the bruises on his neck caused by being manhandled by the Tin Man. “I wasn’t going to ask any questions. I just need some things.” Patrick glanced over Chastain’s shoulder and saw David Bellville walking quickly away from the conference room. He gave Patrick a wink.