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“That’s comforting,” Myra said, rolling her eyes.
“It is,” Emerson said. “It means that the U.S. government isn’t behind this. Just an incredibly powerful cabal within the U.S. government.”
“This is about the blog, isn’t it?” Myra asked.
They had reached the train platform and Emerson pulled up. “You read the blog?”
“Of course,” Myra said. “It’s just about like having a son and a nephew on television. You’re almost famous.”
“Astonishing,” Emerson said. “I rather like that.”
“And I can always tell when you’re the one writing the blog,” Myra said. “You use more words than Vernon, and sometimes I have to look them up.”
“I have a superior vocabulary,” Emerson said. “In fact, it’s superior in four different languages.”
Riley cut her eyes to him. “You only speak four languages?”
“At a superior level,” Emerson said.
The yellow line train glided into the station, and Emerson, Riley, and Myra stepped on board and found a near-empty car. A half hour later the train crossed the Potomac into Alexandria.
“This is our stop,” Emerson said, rising as the doors opened at Huntington Station.
Everyone shuffled off the train, and Larry met them on the platform. “I had a feeling you’d be on this one,” he said. “I’m parked in the lot.”
“So Emmie’s got you mixed up in this too,” Myra said.
“Just like old times,” Larry said. “Not too many dull moments when you work for the Knights.”
“What sort of car do we have?” Emerson asked Larry.
“It’s a nice big sedan. A Cadillac. I borrowed it from my cousin. It’ll be good for the trip.”
“Trip?” Riley asked.
“We’re taking Aunt Myra home to Harrisonburg,” Emerson said.
—
“Let me get this straight,” Werner said to Rollo. “You knew where they were. You had them cornered. You went in with an entire unit. And you came out with nothing.”
It was late at night and Werner and Rollo were standing on a shadowed, deserted street corner. Both men were armed, Rollo with a surgical knife, Werner with a semiautomatic that was neatly concealed by the line of his suit jacket.
“They weren’t alone,” Rollo said.
“I’ve already been briefed on your failure. They had a sixty-five-year-old woman helping them. You can’t be expected to overcome odds like that.”
Rollo’s eyes were popped out even more than usual. Freakish glistening white orbs in his pale face.
“I’ll get them,” Rollo said. “You don’t have to worry.”
“You’re the one who should be worrying,” Werner said. “We’re very near the completion of all our plans. If you fail me again and put the mission in jeopardy, I’ll have you gutted and filleted like a fish. I’ll do it myself and I’ll use your personal knife.”
Larry and Myra chatted in the front seat. Their words were a monotone hum to Riley. Emerson was in his zone. His body was warm and masculine next to hers. She suspected his mind was on a distant astral plane. It was black beyond the windows. The road in front of them was illuminated only by the Cadillac’s headlights. Endless strips of white hypnotically coming at them. The tedium of the drive was a narcotic, and Riley drifted into sleep, waking when the car slowed for a turn or stoplight, and then drifting off again when the momentum returned.
She surfaced from her dreamless drifting and realized the car had stopped. She sat up and squinted through the windshield at a big black chunk of something and blazing lights. Her head cleared and she recognized Vernon’s RV.
“This is Harrisonburg?” Riley asked.
