Desh was annoyed with himself that even in his current paranoid mindset he had failed to at least consider the possibility that Connelly’s digging would make him a target. If Desh was going to survive this mess he would have to do better.
“Do you have a car?” asked Desh.
“Why does that question make me nervous?” answered Griffin guardedly.
“Connelly could be in someone’s crosshairs even as we speak. We need to get him in motion immediately and set up a meeting with him so I can bring him up to speed. We can’t risk taking my SUV. I’ll tell you everything I know on the way.”
“This woman is a psychopathic killer. Why would you even consider following her advice?”
“If she’s wrong, we’ll have wasted time and inconvenienced the colonel. But if she’s right, we’ll have saved his life.” Desh paused. “I assume you have a car, correct?” he persisted.
Griffin looked ill but finally nodded unhappily. “What if I’d prefer to stay here and let you meet with this Connelly by yourself?”
Desh shrugged. “Suit yourself. But in that case I won’t be able to tell you what you’re up against until I see you again. And you have to ask yourself if you feel safer on your own right now—or with me.”
Griffin frowned. “I’ll go,” he mumbled unhappily.
“Good. Can you jump on the computer and find the midway point by car between here and Fort Bragg, North Carolina?”
Griffin sat at his computer and seconds later a satellite map appeared on the large plasma screen. The image of the East Coast of the United States was almost uniformly green and not a single sign of human habitation, including the largest cities, could be detected. The Atlantic Ocean appeared as a much deeper and more vibrant shade of blue than when viewed from the beach. Griffin overlaid the satellite imagery with a driving map that highlighted the route between the two locations, spotting a promising town almost immediately. His hands flew over the keys.
“Emporia Virginia,” he announced. “It’s a hundred and seventy-two miles from D.C. and a hundred and fifty-five miles from Bragg.”
“Good,” said Desh. “Any State Parks? Woods? That sort of thing.”
Griffin worked the mouse to display a helicopter’s-eye view of Emporia and its vicinity and began to fly this virtual helicopter slowly forward. He called up further information on the town and displayed it on one of the smaller monitors. “There’s a hydropower dam in Emporia on the Meherrin River. The river flows northwesterly from the dam.”
“Find a two-lane road that parallels the river and woods and follow it northwest,” instructed Desh. He had decided to borrow from Kira’s playbook. Her choice of motels had been tactically ideal. “Try to locate a quarter-mile to a half-mile chunk of woods flanked by roads on either side. Easily accessible but fairly isolated.”
Griffin swooped down to the Meherrin River dam and found a nearby road that fit Desh’s requirements. He followed the road as instructed, zooming closer when he found a candidate location and back out again when he needed a more panoramic view. Whatever satellite database he had hacked into allowed him to get clearer pictures and zoom in more closely than he would have been able to do using the satellite imagery available to the general public.
“I think I’ve got it,” said Griffin.
Desh studied the screen. Sure enough, about twenty miles from Emporia another road appeared on the right flank, sandwiching the woods between it and the road Griffin had been following. The roads ran parallel on either side of the woods for several miles.
“Continue to follow your original road, but slower and from a lower altitude,” said Desh.
Griffin swooped in closer and did as instructed. Desh pursed his lips in concentration and studied the rapidly changing landscape. “Stop,” he barked. “Back up just a little.”
Desh pointed to an area of road that abutted a section of the tree line that had a break in it. A car could pull off at this point and circle back around without hindrance to a pocket-shaped clearing, about fifty yards away, that couldn’t be seen from the road. He only hoped that enough of the trees had retained their leaves to provide adequate cover. Since the satellite data was somewhat dated, it was impossible from the imagery to know for sure.
“Get the GPS coordinates for this break in the tree line and write them down for me while I make a call,” said Desh.
Desh lifted the receiver of Griffin’s phone. It was cordless but still a landline, which was what he needed. Cell phone traffic was far too easy to intercept. He had checked the phone carefully for listening devices previously and it was clean. He dialed Connelly’s scrambled line at his office at USASOC, praying he would be in.
It was picked up on the first ring. “David?”
“That’s right.”