The man forced a smile in return and replied, "Luck has nothing to do with it." He turned back toward the front, and they continued in silence along a dark road.
The van re-entered the airport and pulled up to the main terminal. The young couple got out and walked toward the taxi stand.
Khalil said to the driver, "Excuse me, but I see that I have an automobile rental with Hertz, and it is Gold Card Service. So, I believe I can go directly to the Hertz parking."
"Yeah. Okay." The driver moved off and within a minute was in the small exclusive area reserved for Hertz Gold Card customers.
There were twenty numbered parking places beneath a long, illuminated metal canopy, and at each space was a name in lights. One of the light signs said BADR, and he walked toward it.
Satherwaite followed.
They got to the automobile, a black Lincoln Town Car, and Khalil opened the rear door and placed his bag on the seat.
Satherwaite said, "Is this your rental?"
"Yes. B-A-D-R is the company name."
"Oh… don't have to sign some papers or something?"
"It is a special service. It avoids long queues at the rental counter."
"Long what?"
"Lines. Please get in."
Satherwaite shrugged, opened the front passenger door, and slid in, throwing his overnight bag into the rear seat.
The keys were in the ignition, and Khalil started the car and turned on the headlights. He said to Satherwaite, "Please retrieve the papers from the glove box."
Satherwaite opened the compartment and took out the papers as Khalil drove toward the exit.
A woman at the exit booth opened her window and said, "May I see your rental agreement and driver's license, sir?"
Khalil took the rental papers from Satherwaite and handed them to the woman, who glanced at them. She peeled off one of the copies, and Khalil then handed her his Egyptian driver's license and his international driver's license. She studied them for a few seconds, took a quick look at Khalil, then handed them back with his copy of the rental papers. "Okay."
Khalil pulled out onto a main road and turned right as he'd been told to do. He put his driver's license in his breast pocket along with the rental agreement.
Satherwaite said, "That was pretty easy. So that's how the big shots do it."
"Excuse me?"
"Are you rich?"
"My company."
"That's good. You don't have to talk to some snotty bitch at the rental counter."
"Precisely."
"How far's the motel?"
"I thought perhaps we would telephone Mr. McCoy before we go to the motel. It is nearly eight P.M. already."
"Yeah…" Satherwaite glanced at the mobile phone on the console. "Yeah, why not?"
Khalil had noted the mobile phone unlock code on the rental paper and repeated it to Satherwaite. "Do you have your friend's telephone number?"
"Yeah."
Satherwaite took Jim McCoy's Rolodex card out of his pocket and turned on the courtesy light.
Before Satherwaite dialed, Khalil said, "Perhaps you should describe me only as a friend. I will introduce myself when we arrive." He added, "Please tell Mr. McCoy that your time here is short, and that you would very much like to see the museum tonight. If necessary, we can go to his home first. This vehicle has a Satellite Navigator, as you can see, and we need no directions to his home or to the museum. Please leave the telephone speaker on."
Satherwaite glanced at his driver, then at the global positioning display on the dashboard. He said, "Gotcha." He dialed the unlock code, then dialed Jim McCoy's home number.
Khalil heard the phone ringing over the speaker. On the third ring, a woman's voice answered, "Hello."
"Betty, this is Bill Satherwaite."
"Oh… hello, Bill. How are you?"
"I'm great. How are the kids?"
"Fine."
"Hey, is Jim there?" Before she could reply, Bill Satherwaite, who was used to people not being in for him, added quickly, "I have to speak to him for a minute. Kind of important."
"Oh… okay, let me see if he's off his other call."
"Thanks. I have a surprise for him. Tell him that."
"Just a moment."
The telephone went on hold.
Khalil understood the subtext of this conversation, and wanted to congratulate Mr. Satherwaite for using the correct words, but he just drove and smiled.
They were on an expressway now, heading west, toward Nassau County where the museum was located, and where Jim McCoy lived, and where he would die.
A voice came over the speaker. "Hey, Bill. What's up?"
Satherwaite smiled wide and said, "You're not going to believe this. Guess where I am?"
There was a silence on the phone, then Jim McCoy asked, "Where?"
"I just landed at MacArthur. Remember that Philly charter? Well, the guy had a change of plans, and I'm here."
"Great."
"Jim, I have to fly out first thing tomorrow, so I thought maybe I could stop by the house, or maybe meet you at the museum."
"Well… I have-"
"Just for half an hour or so. We're on the road now. I'm calling from the car. I really want to see the F-111. We can pick you up."
"Who's with you?"
"Just a friend. A guy who flew up with me from South Carolina. He really wants to see some of the old stuff. We got a surprise for you. We won't keep you long, if you're busy." He added, "I know this is last-minute, but you said-"
"Yeah… okay, why don't we meet at the museum? Can you find it?"
"Yeah. We got GPS in the car."
"Where are you?"
Satherwaite glanced at Khalil, who said into the remote microphone, "We are on Interstate 495, sir. We have just passed the exit for the Veterans Memorial Highway."
McCoy said, "Okay, you're on the Long Island Expressway, and you're about thirty minutes away with no traffic. I'll meet you at the main entrance to the museum. Look for a big fountain. Give me your cell phone number."
Satherwaite read the number off the telephone.
McCoy said, "If we somehow miss, I'll call you, or you call me. Here's my cell phone number." He gave his number and asked, "What are you driving?"
Satherwaite replied, "A big black Lincoln."
"Okay… Maybe I'll have a guard meet you at the entrance." He added in a lighter tone, "Rendezvous time, approximately twenty-one hundred hours, rendezvous point as instructed, commo established between all craft. See you later, Karma Five-Seven. Over."
"Roger, Elton Three-Eight Out," said Satherwaite with a big grin. He pressed End and looked at Khalil. "No problem." He added, "Wait until you offer him two thousand yards of canvas for free. He'll buy us a drink."
"Meters."
"Right."
A few minutes passed in silence, then Bill Satherwaite said, "Uh… no rush, but I might go out later, and I could use a little extra cash."
"Oh, yes. Of course." Khalil reached into his breast pocket, extracted his billfold, and handed it to Satherwaite. "Take five hundred dollars."
"It might be better if you counted it."
"I am driving. I trust you."
Satherwaite shrugged, turned on the courtesy light, and opened the billfold. He took out a wad of bills and counted out five hundred dollars, or five hundred twenty, he couldn't be sure in the bad light. He said, "Hey, this leaves you about tapped out."
"I will go to a cash machine later."
Satherwaite handed Khalil his billfold and said, "You sure?"
"I am sure." He put the billfold back in his pocket as Satherwaite put the money in his wallet.
They drove west on the Expressway, and Khalil programmed the Satellite Navigator for the Cradle of Aviation Museum.
Within twenty minutes, they exited onto a southbound parkway, then got off the parkway at Exit M4, which said
CRADLE OF AVIATION MUSEUM.
They followed the signs to Charles Lindbergh Boulevard, then turned right into a wide, tree-lined entrance drive. Ahead was a blue- and red-lighted fountain, beyond which was a massive glass and steel structure with a dome rising up behind it.
Khalil steered around the fountain and drove toward the main entrance.