Polowski grabbed the microphone and barked, Did you get the stuff?
Cathy turned and snapped: Forget that! Ask him where he is. Ask him!
Holland? said Polowski. Where are you?
At the northeast perimeter. Fence goes all the way around. Look, get moving. Ill manage-
Tell him to head for the east fence! Cathy said. Near the midpoint!
What?
Just tell him!
Go to the east fence, Polowski said into the microphone. Midpoint.
I copy.
Polowski looked up at Cathy in puzzlement. What the hell are you thinking of?
This is a getaway car, right? she muttered as she turned on the engine. I say we put it to its intended use! She threw the van into gear and spun it around, onto the road.
Hey, youre going the wrong way! yelled Milo.
No, Im not. Theres a fire road, just off to the left somewhere. There it is. She made a sharp turn, onto what was little more than a dirt track. They bounced along, crashing through tree branches and shrubs, a ride so violently spine-shaking it was all they could do to hang on.
How did you find this wonderful road? Polowski managed to ask.
How did you find this wonderful road? Polowski managed to ask.
It was on the map. I saw it when we were studying the plans for Viratek.
Is this a scenic route? Or does it go somewhere?
The east fence. Used to be the construction entrance for the compound. Im hoping its still clear enough to get through
And then what happens?
Ollie sighed. Dont ask.
Cathy steered around a bush that had sprung up in her path and ran head-on into a sapling. Her passen gers tumbled to the floor. Sorry, she muttered. Reversing gear, she spun them back on the road. It should be just ahead
A barrier of chain link suddenly loomed before them. Instantly she cut the lights. Through the darkness, they could hear dogs barking, moving in. Where was he?
Then they saw him, flitting through the moonlight. He was running. Somewhere off to the side, a man shouted and gunfire spat the ground.
Brace yourselves! yelled Cathy. She snapped on her seatbelt and gripped the steering wheel. Then she stepped on the gas.
The van jerked forward like a bronco, barreled through the underbrush, and slammed into the fence. The chain link sagged; electrical sparks hissed in the night. Cathy threw the gears into reverse, backed up, and hit the gas again.
The fence toppled; barbed wire scraped across the windshield.
Were through! said Ollie. He yanked open the sliding door and yelled: Come on, Gersh! Come on!
The running figure zigzagged across the grass. All around him, gunfire exploded. He made a last flying leap across the coil of barbed wire and stumbled.
Come on, Gersh!
Gunfire spattered the van.
Victor struggled back to his feet. They heard the rip of clothing, then he was reaching up to them, being dragged inside, to safety.
The door slammed shut. Cathy backed up, wheeled the van around and slammed on the gas pedal.
They leaped forward, bouncing through the bushes and across ruts. Another round of bullets pinged the van. Cathy was oblivious to it. She focused only on getting them back to the main road. The sound of gunfire receded. At last the trees gave way to a familiar band of blacktop. She turned left and gunned the engine, anxious to put as many miles as possible between them and Viratek.
Off in the distance, a siren wailed.
We got company! said Polowski.
Which way now? Cathy cried. Viratek lay behind them; the sirens were approaching from ahead.
I dont know! Just get the hell out of here!
As yet her view of the police cars was blocked by trees, but she could hear the sirens moving rapidly closer. Will they let us pass? Or will they pull us over?
Almost too late she spotted a clearing, off to the side. On sudden impulse she veered off the pavement, and the van bounced onto a stubbly field.
Dont tell me, groaned Polowski. Another fire road?
Shut up! she snapped and steered straight for a clump of bushes. With a quick turn of the wheel, she circled behind the shrubbery and cut her lights.
It was just in time. Seconds later, two patrol cars, lights flashing, sped right past the concealing bushes. She sat frozen, listening as the sirens faded in the distance. Then, in the darkness, she heard Milo say softly, Her name is Bond. Jane Bond.
Half laughing, half crying, Cathy turned as Victor scrambled beside her, onto the front seat. At once she was in his arms, her tears wetting his shirt, her sobs muffled in the depths of his embrace. He kissed her damp cheeks, her mouth. The touch of his lips stilled her tremors.
From the back came the sound of a throat being cleared. Uh, Gersh? inquired Ollie politely. Dont you think we ought to get moving?
Victors mouth was still pressed against Cathys. Reluctantly he broke contact but his gaze never left her face. Sure, he murmured, just before he pulled her back for another kiss. But would somebody else mind driving?
Heres where things get dangerous, said Polowski. He was at the wheel now, as they headed south toward San Francisco. Cathy and Victor sat in front with Polowski; in the back of the van, Milo and Ollie lay curled up asleep like two exhausted puppies. From the radio came the soft strains of a country western song. The dials glowed a vivid green in the darkness.
Weve finally got the evidence, said Polowski. All we need to hang em. Theyll be desperate. Ready to try anything. From here on out, folks, its going to be a game of cat and mouse.
As if it wasnt already, thought Cathy as she huddled closer to Victor. She longed for a chance to be alone with him. There had been no time for tearful reunions, no time for any confessions of love. Theyd spent the last two hours on a harrowing journey down backroads, always avoiding the police. By now the break-in at Viratek would have been reported to the authorities. The state police would be on the lookout for a van with frontal damage.
Polowski was right. Things were only getting more dangerous.
Soon as we hit the city, said Polowski, well get those vials off to separate labs. Independent confirmation. That should wipe any doubts away. You know names we can trust, Holland?
Fellow alum back in New Haven. Runs the hospital lab. I can trust him.
Yale? Great. Thatll have clout.
Ollie has a pal at UCSF. Theyll take care of the second vial.
And when those reports get back, I know a certain journalist who loves to have a little birdie chirp in his ear. Polowski gave the steering wheel a satisfied slap. Viratek, you are dead meat.
You enjoy this, dont you? said Cathy.
Workin the right side of the law? I say its good for the soul. It keeps your mind sharp and your feet on their toes. It helps you stay young.
Or die young, said Cathy.
Polowski laughed. Women. They just never understand the game.
I dont understand it, at all.
I bet Holland here does. He just had the adrenaline high of his life. Didnt you?
Victor didnt answer. He was gazing ahead at the blacktop stretching before their headlights.
Well, wasnt it a high? asked Polowski. To claw your way to hell and back again? To know you made it through on nothing much more than your wits?
No, said Victor quietly. Because its not over yet.
Polowskis grin faded. He turned his attention back to the road. Almost, he said. Its almost over.
They passed a sign: San Francisco: 12 Miles.
Four in the morning. The stars were mere pinpricks in a sky washed out by streetlights. In a North Beach doughnut shop, five weary souls had gathered around steaming coffee and cheese Danish. Only one other table was occupied, by a man with bloodshot eyes and shaking hands. The girl behind the counter sat with her nose buried in a paperback. Behind her, the coffee machine hissed out a fresh brew.
To the Old Coots, said Milo, raising his cup. Still the best ensemble around.
They all raised their cups. To the Old Coots!
And to our newest and fairest member, said Milo. The beautiful-the intrepid-
Oh, please, said Cathy.
Victor wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Relax and be honored. Not everyone gets into this highly selective group.
The only requirement, said Ollie, is that you have to play a musical instrument badly.
The only requirement, said Ollie, is that you have to play a musical instrument badly.
But I dont play anything.
No problem. Ollie fished out a piece of waxed paper from the pile of Danishes and wrapped it around his pocket comb. Kazoo.
Fitting, said Milo. Since that was Lilys instrument.
Oh. She took the comb. Lilys instrument. It always came back to her, the ghost who would forever be there. Suddenly the air of celebration was gone, as though swept away by the cold wind of dawn. She glanced at Victor. He was looking out the window, at the garishly lit streets. What are you thinking? Are you wishing she was here? That it wasnt me being presented this silly kazoo, but her?
She put the comb to her lips and hummed an appropriately out-of-tune version of Yankee Doodle. Everyone laughed and clapped, even Victor. But when the applause was over, she saw the sad and weary look in his eyes. Quietly she set the kazoo down on the table.
Outside, a delivery truck roared past. It was 5:00 a.m.; the city was stirring.
Well, folks, said Polowski, slapping down a dollar tip. We got a hotshot reporter to roust outta bed. And then you and I- he looked at Victor -have a few deliveries to make. Whens United leave for New Haven?
At ten-fifteen, said Victor.
Okay. Ill buy you the plane tickets. In the meantime, you see if you cant grow yourself a new mustache or something. Polowski glanced at Cathy. Youre going with him, right?
No, she said, looking at Victor.
She was hoping for a reaction, any reaction. What she saw was a look of relief. And, strangely, resignation.
He didnt try to change her mind. He simply asked, Where will you be going?
She shrugged. Maybe I should stick to our original plan. You know, head south. Hang out with Jack for a while. What do you think?
It was his chance to stop her. His chance to say, No, I want you around. I wont let you leave, not now, not ever. If he really loved her, thats exactly what he would say.
Her heart sank when he simply nodded and said, I think its a good idea.
She blinked back the tears before anyone could see them. With an indifferent smile she looked at Ollie. So I guess Ill need a ride. When are you and Milo heading home?