"Yes, sir."
"Is your wife an understanding woman?"
He laughed. "No, sir." The driver proceeded slowly through the driving rain and followed the airport exit signs.
Keith asked, "What are your instructions?"
"To take you to the Four Seasons, sir. They're holding a room for you. Everything's filled up because of this weather, but Mr. Adair got you a room."
"He's a great guy."
"Mr. Adair sent me out to National as soon as he heard it was closed down, and I paged you there."
"I appreciate that."
"Then I got a call at home, and Mr. Adair said you'd gone to Dulles, so I came here."
"Modern communications are a miracle. Everyone's in touch."
"Yes, sir. I have a beeper, a car phone, and a radio."
"Did Mr. Adair say where he was calling from?"
"No, sir. But I have to call his answering machine and tell him I found you."
"I can do that." Keith picked up the cellular phone, punched in Adair's number, and said into the answering machine, "I'm in the car, Charlie. Thanks. I'll try to be there tomorrow night, but I'll go back to Ohio first. Call me on this phone." He gave him the number and said, "Talk to you later." He hung up and asked Stewart, "You ever been to Ohio?"
"No, sir."
"The Buckeye State."
"Yes, sir." Stewart glanced at him but said nothing.
They approached the entrance to the Dulles access road, and Keith said, "Take 28 north. We have to make a stop before we go back to D.C."
"Yes, sir." Stewart got onto Route 28.
Keith looked at the dashboard clock. It was a quarter past eleven P.M. He looked out the windshield. "Nasty weather."
"Yes, sir."
"I guess we knew this hurricane was on the way."
"That's what they've been saying all week. This morning they said it would touch Virginia Beach, then hit the Eastern Shore, and we'd get gale-force winds and rain by tonight. They were right."
"They certainly were. Hey, when you get to Route 7, go west."
"Okay." A few miles later, Stewart asked, "How far west are we going, Mr. Landry?"
"Oh, about... let's see — about five hundred miles."
"Sir?"
"Stewart, you're finally going to have the opportunity to see the great state of Ohio."
"I don't understand."
"It's real simple. I have to be in Ohio. No aircraft are flying out of Washington. We are driving to Ohio."
Stewart glanced at Keith, then at his radio and telephone, then said, "Mr. Adair didn't... he said to..."
"Mr. Adair is not on top of the situation, but he will be when I can speak to him."
Stewart stayed silent. In his many years as a government driver, Keith knew, Stewart had learned to do what he was told, regardless of how inconvenient or bizarre it may have seemed to him. Still, Keith thought he should say a few words to the man. Keith said, "You can call your wife and explain."
"Yes, sir. Maybe I should speak to Mr. Adair first. I don't know if I'm authorized..."
"Stewart, I just had a chat this morning with the secretary of defense and the president of the United States. Would you like me to call either of them now and get authorization?"
"No, sir."
"I'll speak to Mr. Adair in due time. You pay attention to the road. I'll dial your wife. What's the number?"
Stewart gave him the number, and Keith dialed. It took him several tries to get through because of the weather, but finally a female voice came on the line, and Keith said, "Hello, Mrs...."
Keith looked at Stewart, who said, "Arkell."
"Mrs. Arkell, this is General Landry of the National Security Council, and I'm afraid I've imposed on your husband to work a little overtime tonight... Yes, ma'am. Let me put him on." Keith handed the phone to Stewart, who took it without enthusiasm.
Stewart listened for a full minute, then got a few words in. "No, I don't know how late..."
Keith said, "Figure this time tomorrow night, to be safe."
"Yes, dear, I..."
Keith watched the rain out of the side window.
Stewart said to his wife, "I'll call you later," and hung up, grumbling something.
Keith said, "Everything okay?"
"Yes, sir."
"Here's Route 7. We take this to I-81, northbound."
"Yes, sir."
"Take it slow. We'll try to make up the time later, when we get out of this weather."
"Yes, sir. I can't go over the speed limit. That's the rules."
"Good rules. Long day?"
"Yes, sir."
"I'll drive later."
"It's not allowed, General."
"Colonel. Sometimes I say general. For the ladies."
Stewart smiled for the first time.
As they traveled slowly west on Route 7, the phone rang, and Keith took it. "Hello, Charlie."
"You're still in the car?"
"No, I'm running alongside."
"Stewart found you okay?"
"Yes, I'm in the car now. That's where you called me."
"You should have been in the Four Seasons by now. Where are you?"
"Still in the car."
"Where in the fucking car?"
"Route 7."
"Why? What's wrong with the Dulles road?"
"Nothing, as far as I know."
There was a silence, and Keith could hear music and talking in the background. Charlie asked, "Where are you headed, Keith?"
"You know where I'm headed."
"Jesus Christ, man, you can't hijack a government car and driver..."
"Why not? I've hijacked other governments' cars and drivers. Why not my own?"
Charlie took a deep breath and asked, "Is Stewart with you?"
"He is. We took care of his wife, you take care of the authorization. I'll try to get back tomorrow night. Enjoy your party or dinner or whatever. Thanks, bye..."
"Wait. Listen, can't you just call her and tell her you'll be flying out of D.C. tomorrow?"
"No. I have a morning rendezvous."
"Tell her to fly here in the morning."
"We're eloping together."
"You're being difficult, Keith."
"I'm being difficult? You shanghaied me to Washington. You knew about the hurricane."
"No, I didn't. Well, it was supposed to blow out to sea. Look, why can't she just fly..."
"Charlie, you met her husband. This is a bad guy. She'd like me to be there when she breaks loose. Also, I've got things I have to get from my house. Okay?"
"Okay. No use arguing with a man who's following his dick. You going to make it?"
Keith looked at the dashboard clock. It was twelve-ten A.M. He said, "Close."
"Good luck, buddy. Tell Stewart I owe him one. Call tomorrow."
"Will do." He hung up and told Stewart, "Mr. Adair owes you a big favor."
"He owes me lots of them."
"Me, too."
They drove another half hour and picked up I-81 north. Keith said, "Pay attention to the route. You're coming back alone."
"Yes, sir."
Keith settled back in his seat. "So, what did you think of the Orioles this year?"
"Not much. The only way they'll get to the Series is if they buy tickets."
"You follow college football?"
"Sure."
"The Buckeyes look great again."
"They sure do."
They drove and talked sports. The rain tapered off as they moved away from the hurricane activity, and Stewart agreed to do ten miles an hour over the limit after they crossed into Maryland.
At Hagerstown, Keith told him to pick up I-70 westbound. It was a good road, almost devoid of traffic at that hour, but it wound through the Appalachian Mountains, and Stewart, who had been an aggressive urban driver, became very timid.