She smiled and let out a slight chuckle. “Now why doesn’t Brian Williams ever put it in those terms?”
Her expression darkened as an eclipse crossed over her face.
“What are you thinking about?” Matt asked.
“Father Jerome. He’s . . . you couldn’t ask for a more decent human being. To think of the hell they must have put him through . . .”
Matt nodded thoughtfully. “It’s not going to be easy for him. When this thing breaks.”
Gracie stared at him, and her face flooded with concern. “His whole belief system’s going to get wiped out.”
“I think it’s more than his belief system you need to worry about,” Matt said. “You’re going to need to get him into some kind of protective custody. They’ll rip him to shreds.”
Gracie shrank back, winded by the thought. “We’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t, aren’t we?”
Matt shrugged. “We don’t really have a choice. We have to do this.”
“You’re right.” Gracie relented, although it was clear from her haunted look that it wouldn’t be that simple.
Matt let a moment pass, then said, “I want to thank you. For backing me up in there. And for not bailing on me.”
She waved it away. “After everything you’ve been through? I owe you my life.”
“Still, I know it wasn’t easy,” he insisted. “Putting the scoop of a lifetime on hold. I mean, there’s no doubt you’d be the biggest face on television right now if you walked into any newsroom and just told them what you know.”
“Just how shallow do you think I am?” She smirked.
“Not shallow, just . . . realistically ambitious.”
Gracie smiled and looked wistfully into the distance. “My Woodward and Bernstein moment,” she chortled, self-mockingly. She laughed inwardly. “It’s like, all your life, you wait for a big moment like this, you hope for it and you work hard to make it happen, you imagine it and picture yourself basking in its glory . . . then when it actually happens . . .”
“When it comes out, it’ll change everything for you, you know,” he told her. “And not necessarily for the better.”
She glanced over at him. “I know.” Her eyes had lost their disarming sparkle. For something every reporter dreamed about, it was starting to feel more like a nightmare.
He nodded, not really wanting to explore the darker side of what lay ahead. He pushed out a slight, comforting smile. “Come on. Let’s see how the rest of the day turns out first. And take it from there.”
Chapter 74
The roads were already jammed by early morning. Miles of cars, streaming in from every direction, choking the Loop and the South Freeway and all the approach roads leading to the stadium at Reliant Park. It was unlike anything the city had seen before. Unlike anything any city had seen before: an antlike procession of packed cars squatting over every square inch of available asphalt for miles around and converging on the biggest sports, entertainment, and convention complex in the country.
It was a clear, perfect day, and by noon, the temperature was in the high seventies and all the parking lots were filled. More than half a dozen of them, scattered around the stadium, the Astrodome, the arena, and the exhibition center. Over twenty-six thousand parking spots, every single one of them taken. The four-wheeled invasion didn’t stop there. It spilled over into the vast, empty lot that used to house the Six Flags Astroworld before it was torn down in 2006. Seventy-five acres of flat, bare earth that nestled against the south side of the Loop, soil that was once the proud home of Greezed Lightnin’ and the Ultra Twister, now shuddering under the rumble of an unstoppable flood of cars, trucks, and vans.
They came by car, by foot, by any means possible. MetroRail was running extra trains to try and cope with the crush, their cabins struggling to retain the heaving mass of flesh pressed against their walls. Helicopters were ferrying in news crews and reporters, all of whom were busy setting up their satellite dishes and hustling to get the best vantage points to cover the event. Police choppers circled overhead, keeping an eye on the teeming chaos below. The gates of the stadium itself were closed shortly after twelve. Seventy-three thousand people had already filed in by then, after spending hours in long lines, waiting to be frisked for weapons and cleared, the last of them pushing and shoving and fighting their way through in a desperate attempt to make it inside. A few angry, hysterical worshippers wouldn’t take no for an answer and were creating scattered spots of trouble. Isolated brawls also broke out in the parking lots as cars jostled for position. Surprisingly, though, most of those who had made the journey were calm and well behaved. The police were doing a commendable job in marshaling the pilgrims around and keeping things civil. Darby’s people had also brought in a small army of volunteers to manage the flows on the outside and to help those inside get settled. They were distributing free bottles of water and pamphlets promoting Darby’s evangelical empire. The crowds in the parking lots, the ones who didn’t make it into the stadium, weren’t brooding over missing out. They’d come prepared and were already settling into a festive mood. The lots were brimming with tailgate parties. Turkey, eggnog, and carols were on offer everywhere. Whole families, young and old, people of all shapes and sizes and colors, were joined in one seamless celebration as a rolling wave of Christmas music wafted across the fields of multicolored sheet metal.
THEY LEFT EARLY, only pulling in briefly at a gas station to pick up some baseball caps and cheap sunglasses to shield their faces, and they still hit the jams. They passed a weathered billboard that said “Let’s meet on Sunday at my house before the game.—God,” and shortly after, the stadium appeared in the distance.
That first glimpse of it, all the way from the freeway, cut through Matt’s weariness and gave his spirits a boost. Even at that distance, it was clear that the roof was open. It was the NFL’s first retractable-roof stadium, a staggering 500-foot-long and 385-foot-wide sunroof. The big trusses that held it up were far apart, with one side resting over each end zone. Seeing them spread open like that sent a quickening rush through his veins. If they were open, it meant there was a strong chance the sign would be making an appearance. He felt he was getting closer to Danny. He was daring to hope that he might actually see his brother alive again. It felt good to think about that, especially after everything he’d been through over the last few days.
The cars weren’t moving. Matt and Gracie left Rydell and Dalton in the big silver SUV and walked the rest of the way. As they approached the center, Matt cast his eyes across the huge complex and tried to fit Rydell’s read of the situation onto it: having the launchers outside the stadium and the transmitter inside. The reasons Rydell had drawn that conclusion were simple. It was hardly likely that the compressed air launchers would be placed anywhere near the crowds inside the stadium, or within its walls. In such close proximity, someone was bound to notice the large canisters shooting up into the sky, no matter how silent they were. On the other hand, the laser transmitter that gave life to the motes and controlled the sign’s appearance had to be inside the stadium. In imagining how Drucker and his people would stage the event, they were certain that, at some point, the sign would appear within the stadium’s envelope. And if that were the case, a beam from anywhere outside the stadium wouldn’t be able to reach inside. This wasn’t great news. It meant they had to have a look inside—without any weapons, given the security searches at the gates. Of some solace was the fact that it was likely the plotters would want the sign to appear over the stadium as well. That helped narrow down the possibilities. There weren’t too many positions inside the stadium from which a transmitter would have a sight line that would allow it to track something as huge as the sign upward through the roof and out into the sky overhead.