The story was running on all the televisions in the Jacksonville airport. He looked at the flight board, identified several possibilities, got cash from an ATM, and took a cab to a local mall, where he bought a new wardrobe and a carry-on suitcase to put it in. He found a small motel nearby and checked in. He used the motel's business center to buy his tickets.
That night he dreamt again of Zahirah, and woke in a sweat-soaked panic.
Once, all his dreams had been of Adara.
The next morning he showered, packed, and went to the airport. The passport he had with him was in the name of Suud Bathinda, an Indian national, a computer programmer from Mumbai.- He offered the TSA official grave apologies on behalf of all Asians for this latest attempt on America 's might and substance. He had no trouble getting through security.
In Atlanta he boarded a flight for Paris, in Paris another for Barcelona, not going to the Hotel Arc de Triomphe as he had planned.
He'd always liked Barcelona. The second day he even went back to the Maritime Museum, and stood in long contemplation of the Royal Galley that had fought at the Battle of Lepanto.
He never once thought of Adam Bayzani.
That evening he strolled down to the waterfront and dined well on fresh seafood at an open-air cafe. On the way back to his hotel, he became aware that he was being followed. He took no notice, continuing his placid pace.
When he opened the door to his room, Ansar was sitting in a chair, watching Baywatch on television. "Ah, Isa, I was wondering what was keeping you." He smiled. "The old man wants to talk to you."
Akil knew a sudden and a great weariness. "Certainly," he said. "I am at his disposal."
"YOU'RE SURE?" PATRICK SAID.
"He was seen, and identified. Besides, it's all over the net. Irhabi's blog has the story, almost the real one. I think someone in the al Qaeda organization doesn't like our Isa."
"Will bin Laden have him killed, do you think?"
"I don't know," Hugh said thoughtfully. "We've been talking that over ourselves. The whole attack on the space shuttle was pretty gutsy. A lot like 9/11, it was simple, and pretty cheap. His guys talking yet?"
"Some of them are. The ones who still can talk after the Coasties got done with them. They were pretty pissed."
"Really?" Patrick could hear the smile in Hugh's voice. "May I tell Sara?"
"Sure. Anyway, Isa's bunch don't know much."
"I suppose bin Laden could be upset that this was going on in his own backyard without him knowing it."
"If he didn't know it," Patrick said. "Ah, the hell with it. I'm going on vacation, Hugh. I'll be gone for two weeks."
"Alone?" Hugh said. "Or in company?"
Hugh really was very good at what he did. "None of your business," Patrick said primly. "Leave a message if anything else crops up, will you? And, hey, thanks. We did some good work here."
THEY WERE SITTING ON A STUMP OVERLOOKING KACHEMAK BAY IN Alaska. The view, both near and far, was breathtaking.
Kenai was more relaxed than he'd ever seen her, the tension that had kept her at peak performance expended now in a job well done. "Eratosthenes is in orbit and working, just a flawless deployment," she said. " Laurel is ecstatic, and so are all the astronomers. The Al Jazeera satellite deployment went without a hitch, too, so all the Arab nations could watch their guys take a shot at us. Sons of bitches."
"Did you see them shooting?"
"No, but Rick and Bill did. Like a big tracer across the nose. Way too close for comfort. Said it cleared up their sinuses."
"I'll bet," Cal said.
"Other than almost getting shot out of the sky, it was a great mission. Even the Arabian Knight managed to behave." She reflected. "Probably had something to do with the fact that his people had very nearly shot up his own sweet ass. Rick told him straight out that if he even so much as sneezed in the direction of anything even remotely resembling a control switch Rick would duct-tape him to a bulkhead and leave him there for the duration of the mission. The Arabian Knight believed him."
"Wise of him."
"Very. Rick was thinking of doing it anyway, just on general principles, and he didn't decide otherwise because any of us talked him out of it, believe me."
"What it's like?" Cal said. "The view from orbit?"
Kenai leaned back in the deck chair and contemplated the dark blue bay and the mountain peaks cutting white wedges into the darker blue sky. "I don't know what I can say that will do it justice, Cal," she said finally. "It's beautiful. It's terrible. It's glorious." She turned her head to meet his eyes and smiled, but her eyes were sober. "Earth is such a small place. So far, we're all there is. If we don't make it, if humanity doesn't make it, we've had it. We have got to figure out a way to get along with each other, or we have just flat had it."
They sat in silence for a few moments. "And you?" she said. "How are you?
He shifted in his chair, wincing a little. "Mostly I'm just sore from all the bruises I got falling all over my ship. Taffy says for a Coast Guard captain I sure am a honking big klutz."
"Your father okay?"
Cal 's grin was wry. "What, you haven't seen him on CNN, describing his escape from death by inches, all due to this heroic son?"
She sat up and reached for his hand. She opened it and kissed his palm, her lips warm against his skin. She cradled it against her cheek. "You saved my life. You saved all our lives."
Acutely uncomfortable, Cal shifted in his chair again. "Yeah, well, don't let it get around."
She held his hand between her own. "No, Cal. Tell me. Say the words."
He thought about it first. He wanted to say this right.
"I've never been the most dedicated soldier," Cal said. "I've never wanted to die for my country. Staying alive and living the best life you can has always made a hell of a lot more sense to me."
He smiled at her. "But guess what?" "What?"
"Turns out I'm willing to die for you."
Her eyes brightened with a sheen of tears. With some difficulty she said, "I'm glad you didn't." He laughed. "Me, too." They went inside, and closed the door of the cabin firmly behind them.