Final Winter

His mouth felt thick, unwieldy. He was not sure what this bitch was calling about, but whatever it was he knew that some day he would probably have to testify in a secret Congressional hearing about how this whole disaster took place, and—

What?

Victor cleared his throat. ‘I’m sorry, Adrianna. Could you tell me that one more time?’

‘My pleasure, Victor. Final Winter. It’s been canceled. No flights, no mass vaccinations. It’s standing down.’

‘But… but… I…’

Adrianna’s voice was soothing. ‘I just got word a few minutes ago. I wanted to make sure you were the first to hear it. Homeland Security got a break and they rolled up the Syrian squads that were in country. All of them. Double- and triple-checked, all taken in with their weaponized anthrax. There’s one hundred percent confidence that they’ve been captured.’

‘Oh… oh, please…’ The phone receiver was slippery in his hand.

Adrianna said, ‘I know you’ve been under a lot of pressure, Victor. We all have. But you most of all. I want you to turn off your pager, switch off your phone, and take a week off. All right? I don’t want to see you in the office. Hell, I don’t want you to even think about going into the office. You just take your time and enjoy yourself. Relax. Okay?’

It felt like the kitchen floor was gently quivering under his feet. Oh… how sweet, how sweet…

Adrianna said, ‘Victor? Are you all right?’

He switched the phone receiver to his other hand. ‘All right? I’m great… I’m… I… thank you, Adrianna. Thank you for calling. This is the best news… well, the best news I’ve ever received…’

She chuckled. ‘Glad I could make your day. Now. You do what I told you, all right?’

‘Yes. Yes, of course.’

‘Good. See you in a week.’

And she hung up.

Victor hung up as well, turned — and the next thing he knew he was staring up at the kitchen ceiling. At first he thought he must have slipped, but as he sat up and checked the time he realized that he had fainted.

Which was fine. He got to his feet, swayed some, and pulled the phone jack free. He stumbled into the bedroom, found the pager, and not only switched it off but took the batteries out and threw them in a wicker wastebasket. Then he collapsed into bed and slept for almost twenty hours.

~ * ~

Adrianna looked at her watch. Two down, two more to go, and back home that little automated program that was running on the stolen CIA laptop should have uplinked the signal… now.

Good.

~ * ~

Montgomery Zane was in the parking lot in front of Callaghan Consulting, their Tiger Team home, when the page came in. He toggled the side switch of his pager and read the text message:

CODE CARLYLE CODE CARLYLE

CODE CARLYLE

M. ZANE DETACHED & TRAVEL SOONEST FOR:

ANDREWS/LAKENHEATH/AVIANO/AL-UDEID

AWAIT ORDERS AL-UDEID

CODE CARLYLE

CODE CARLYLE

CODE CARLYLE

So there you go. This time of the month, any three-code group line that began with the letter C and ended with the letter E was legitimate. And the itinerary looked standard. From Andrews Air Force Base in Maryland to Lakenheath Royal Air Force Base in Great Britain, and from there to Aviano in Italy, and ending up in Al-Udeid in Qatar. Monty liked Qatar, had a number of friends there, and looked forward to that part of the trip at least.

And what waited for him in Qatar? Well, he would know when he got there. No time to get worried about that particular. All he knew was that he hoped the job was going to be brief and bloody, like that little whirlwind trip last week that had taken him to Britain, Bali and Pakistan. He hoped this trip was a one-fer — in and out with one little mission. These long missions were getting to be a bear…

And speaking of long missions, there was a good chance that he would be overseas when Final Winter started up in a few days. Not a problem, not with the wife and kids now safely tucked away in rural Georgia — and God, wasn’t that a positive comment on the times, when the white wife of a black man and their mixed-race kids would find peace and security in rural Georgia, when just a couple of generations ago they would have been targeted for a beating or a lynching — but there was still a bit of business to attend to.

Monty looked at the pager readout again. ‘Soonest’ was what it said and ‘Soonest’ was what it meant. Which meant leaving here and driving hard-ass to Andrews. He was supposed to have met with Darren Coover this morning, to go over those funny bits of information that he and the NSA guy had gathered on Final Winter and what was — or wasn’t — going down. But he was sure he could talk from Andrews to the little guy, find a secure phone there, and find out more about what was going on.

In the meantime, time to leave.

Monty backed out of the spot and left Callaghan Consulting.

~ * ~