When the escape routes had been settled and memorized, he kept looking for other ways to elude the chasers. He knew that the most likely hazard was that he would slip away and Marcia would be captured. A skilled interrogator could get her to reveal a great deal about him without realizing it. He was sure she would try very hard not to say anything, but eventually she would weaken.
She had been very useful so far. Having a respectable-looking woman with him made anybody who saw him assume that he had not come to rob them or pick a fight. Nobody brought a woman along when he had something like that in mind. He was also aware that he owed her some hope of escape if things got rough. And he couldn’t help knowing that having a second armed, healthy, and well-rehearsed person trying to escape when he did made his survival much more likely.
He hoped that if they were separated Marcia would do exactly what he’d trained her to do. She would run hard over familiar ground, expecting to rejoin him. He knew that when he didn’t arrive, she would be shocked. But after the shock wore off she would notice that she wasn’t wondering what to do next. She already knew, because he had drilled it into her brain.
He had forced her to memorize and practice the first parts of her route dozens of times. After that, her job was just a question of reaching a series of particular buildings in increasingly distant cities. As soon as she found herself really alone, her need to survive would take over. Once that emotion overcame her attachment to him, she would be okay. An armed, intelligent woman with two unassailable false identities, thousands of dollars in cash, and millions in banks could go pretty far without a man.
21
Julian’s eyes opened. He heard the phone buzzing, but it was too early for the alarm he’d set to be going off. He rolled to the side of the bed away from Ruthie and snatched it to turn it off. But as he did, he saw the number on the display. The area code was 202—Washington, DC. The phone buzzed again and he slid the arrow with his thumb and heard a voice like a tinny, distant radio voice. He pushed it under his pillow.
“Julian? Who’s that?” Ruthie said.
The tinny voice from the phone said something else, but he managed to click the OFF switch. “Go back to sleep, baby. It’s just my alarm.” Then he was up and moving. He rolled the clothes he’d left out into a bundle and hurried out of Ruthie’s bedroom and down the stairs.
He stopped in the living room and got dressed. The room was dark, and the world outside the windows was dark. The five-year-old white pickup truck he had bought after he returned his rental car sat in Ruthie’s driveway with a ghostly glow, waiting for him. As he dressed he noticed that against the glow the dents and marks showed up even more clearly. The street was empty and still, as though all the people had left town.
He sat down on the hassock in front of the easy chair to put on his socks and shoes. No matter what else was going on, he had told Joseph he would be at the farm by dawn to help bring in the broccoli. It was a big fall crop for the Carsons, and it was time to cut.
Julian made it out the front door before the phone vibrated again. He got into the truck and backed out into the street before he swept his thumb across the screen to answer.
“Who’s the girl?” It was Harper’s voice.
Julian said, “That’s got nothing to do with you.”
“Where are you, Julian? I get the feeling you’re in Jonesboro, Arkansas. You’re supposed to let us know where you are at all times.”
“Nobody said anything like that to me. In fact, nobody said anything to me. Everybody just left me in that building near the airport. And it’s been over two months since this phone has rung.”
Harper’s voice hardened. “It’s time to come in.”
“Come in where?”
“Fort Meade, Maryland. Drive in the Reece Road gate and tell them your name and that you’re expected at military intelligence. Anytime today will be okay.”
“I won’t be there. I have a previous commitment.”
“You want me to tell them that?”
“Yes,” Julian said. “I’m not a soldier and I’m not an agent. I’m an independent contractor.”
“All right. But I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you very soon,” Harper said.
“It won’t be today.”
“I’ll make your apologies for you, Julian,” Harper said. “But don’t lose your phone.” He hung up.
Julian drove out to the farm. When he turned onto the long gravel road to the farmhouse, he could tell that nobody else was up yet. Getting out of Ruthie’s house without letting the phone wake her had forced him to get out the door without breakfast or even brushing his teeth.
He parked his truck out of the way beyond the barn and walked to the house. He used the key that was up on the lintel to open the front door and then replaced the key. He turned on the kitchen light and began to make coffee and a large pot of oatmeal.