It gave her time to reflect on where they were.
Still chasing, still fighting, still confident that they would save their friend and the Star-Spangled Banner that had started this whole journey. Here they were, now halfway across America and still with many miles to go.
Promises to keep.
I won’t let you down, Michael.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Alicia became used to Austin’s engaged and vibrant driving style, rolling with the bends and settling in for the straights. The mountain they followed wound down the rock face, bordered by snow at the top but becoming increasingly lush as they descended. Grudgingly, and in silence, she had to admit he was good.
Austin used the gears to slow them down more than he should, but then this wasn’t his car. He clipped the apexes of bends, giving the occupants a smoother ride. As the night darkened he only drove better, maintaining speed, able to see approaching headlights far in advance.
Caitlyn woke and resumed her research around the Star-Spangled Banner. Russo woke too, but only because of an elephantine snore which had him sitting upright, suddenly wide-eyed.
“What was that?”
Alicia smiled blearily. “Wart hog got in the car. I had to fight it off.”
Russo eyed her suspiciously, checked his body and then rubbed his eyes sleepily. “What time is it?”
“Almost midnight,” Alicia yawned. “Wake me in two hours.”
But her body clock was finely attuned and brought her awake five minutes before 2 a.m. Austin was complaining about roadworks and how they were almost as bad as those in the UK. This elicited a huge laugh from Russo and an embarrassed shrug from Austin.
“All right, all right, maybe not.”
Alicia checked for drool before speaking. “Have you stopped yet?”
“Nah, we were waiting for Sleeping Beauty to rise.”
She narrowed her eyes toward the back. “Did he go to sleep again?”
Russo gave her the finger. She became more aware then of how slow they were going. “Have we lost much time?”
“Maybe an hour. I guess they’re improving the roads before skiing season starts in earnest. Doesn’t help us though.”
Time was everything. She didn’t care if they had to camp out inside the Stratosphere for days; they simply had to make that meeting. Another twenty minutes passed and then they managed to pull over for a quick pit stop.
Alicia stood outside the car, breathing the early morning air. It was crisp and cold, refreshing. The darkness lay overhead in an unending dome. It felt like the whole planet was motionless around her, nothing moving, nothing living. In this place, at this time, she could almost feel worry-free, perfectly alive. The landscape stretched away in all directions: unblemished, flat lands and scrub now with mountains far behind.
Russo broke the spell, his voice a whisper in the overwhelming silence. “Bought you a coffee.”
“Thanks, Rob.”
“We good to go?”
“Just waiting for Austin. The kid has a bladder the size of a bag of Skittles.”
“Beautiful out here, huh?”
She took in the air and the silence once more. “Yeah, if it weren’t for Crouch and the banner this would be the perfect road trip.”
Russo laughed quietly. “A method of getting away from it all? Well, now you know what to do. Grab your man Drake, and drive across America.”
“I might just do that.”
Austin appeared running around a corner, zipping up his flies and buckling his belt as he came. Alicia shook her head, climbed into the car and took a sip of coffee. Austin bounced into the driver’s side.
“Did you wash your hands?” she asked.
The kid grinned. “Yes, Mum.”
“Good. Then get a fucking move on.”
Tires spewed gravel as the car set off quickly, fishtailing onto the blacktop and roaring toward the middle distance. Alicia imagined a straight road vanishing at the horizon, marked only by a single white line.
From the back seat, Caitlyn spoke up. “Interestingly The Star-Spangled Banner was made the national anthem in 1931. As you know, the lyrics were written during the battle of 1814, but the music came from a British song, written in the 1700s.”
“Probably best to keep that quiet,” Russo said.
“I won’t speak a word of it,” Caitlyn went on. “But the banner and the song go hand in hand. It was by dawn’s early light that Francis Scott Key looked through a spyglass and saw an American flag still waving over Fort McHenry in 1814 after a terrible night of British shelling. He then wrote down song lyrics, not poetry. He first wrote the words ‘star-spangled flag’ in an 1805 poem, which accompanied the melody ‘To Anacreon in Heaven’—the British tune I mentioned.”
“It is a large part of the American story,” Russo said. “And the dream.”
“There was no original title for the song, but Baltimore newspapers printed it as Defense of Fort McHenry. It was a Baltimore music store that later reprinted the patriot song with sheet music under the current title. It wasn’t until over a century later that it became the national anthem.”
Alicia let Caitlyn’s words lull and relax her as Austin drove. She trusted the young man’s driving skills now, and was able to allow him free rein — at least behind the wheel.
“And to cap it all,” Caitlyn said. “Key was a one hit wonder. None of his other compositions were successful and he was probably tone deaf, according to his family.”
“Amazing,” Alicia said. “It’s good to see it ranked up there with the Statue of Liberty and the Charters of Freedom then.”
Caitlyn snapped her laptop shut. “Let’s do all we can to save this American icon shall we?”
Alicia nodded. “And our English icon. How far to Vegas, kid?”
Austin tapped the clock on the dash. “Two hours. See, it’s lightening. The long night has passed. We’ll be seeing the city limits and dropping down toward that valley before you know it.”
Alicia stared out the window. “Hang in there, Michael. We’re coming.”
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Crouch had never been inside the Stratosphere Hotel and Casino before, but expected it to mirror most of the other Strip resorts. He wasn’t surprised by the layout and the décor, and particularly wasn’t surprised to find it extremely busy at 6 a.m. These places never closed, and many tourists liked to sleep through the day and party at night.
The actual building soared 350 meters into the sky and was the tallest freestanding observation tower in the United States. Crouch craned his neck to see all the way to the top, but almost walked into one of his kidnappers and received an angry glare for his troubles. Crouch held both hands up to show no ill intent.
To the right, both Terri and Cutler were being closely watched. There was nothing to stop them bolting now and the mercenaries had made it clear that, if they were forced to, they would shoot both thieves in the leg. Crouch surveyed the parking lot for random police cars or other authority figures but saw nothing. He did spy a donut shop a hundred meters past the Stratosphere and smiled ironically.
The count was six mercs, the original pilot that had now joined the team, and the boss — Omar. Crouch watched three of the men struggling with the pruned banner, which was now packaged in fancy wrapping paper and sported three bright red bows. Its appearance wouldn’t raise any eyebrows among the security personnel of a high-roller casino.
Crouch pulled his jacket closed to stave off a chill, and looked at the two thieves. “This is the hand off,” he said. “Be ready.”