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“You’re a peculiar woman. ”
“I’ve had good luck with pirates. I’ve been told I’m a bit of a pirate myself. ”
“Let’s not talk of luck anymore, shall we? Or pirates, either,” Henry pleaded through teeth clenched with chill or nerves. “We’ve already noticed that luck isn’t with us. And as for pirates, you are no such thing. That having been said, you’ll have to tell me that story sometime. ”
“Not much to tell,” she lied, keeping one eye glued to the spyglass lens. “My first assignment as a Pinkerton agent had me working with a pirate crew. The captain was a runaway slave named Croggon Hainey. He’s the friend of mine that Troost hopes to call in for backup in Washington. ”
“A friend of yours?” Even through the goggles, Maria could see Henry’s eyes widen with incredulity. “All right, I’m not a man to judge. But if he’s a pirate … do you think he’ll help us, or the Lincolns, or anyone else? Even if Kirby Troost asks him to?”
Still peering through the glass, she told him, “Yes, I do. He’s an adventurous sort, and no fan of Southern politics, as you might expect. ” She shifted her grip on the device, and directed the conversation back to more pressing matters. “And I wish to God that he was here with us right now. ”
“They’re still on us?”
“Very much so. ”
“Goddammit. ”
“Now, Henry, listen: the smaller craft is bigger than this one, but not so large as its brethren. Perhaps a crew of three. I don’t really think it’s pirates, but it could be anything—state, federal, or private. ”
“Do you see any weapons?”
“Not mounted to the exterior. Maybe it’s an observation craft? Survey work?” She wasn’t sure why she kept making guesses. The ships would either bother them, or not. “But here they come—another thirty seconds or so until contact. Look innocent, Henry. ”
“I’ll do my level best. ”
The ships drew up on either side of the Black Dove. Now Maria could see their faces without the spyglass, so she put it aside. In the course of acting innocent, she waved cheerfully at the nearest ship—the CSA gray with blue and white markings. Without moving her lips, she said to Henry, “Wish I had a flag. I’d wave it. ”
“You’d look silly,” he said back, smiling and joining her in the friendly greetings.
“Silly is usually innocent,” she said, and blew the craft a kiss.
Inside the main cabin of the big craft she saw five men: three seated, two standing. All uniformed. None smiling or waving back; not at first. But then the captain gave her a small salute, and the others did as well, before deliberately turning their attention elsewhere. Shortly thereafter, the big ship peeled away from them and sped ahead, leaving just the smaller of the two hovering nearby.
“Can’t quite see the little ship,” Maria complained, straining to look around Henry’s bulkily coated form.
“Shall I cut off my head?”
“Extremes aren’t called for. Not just yet. ”
He forced a smile and released one side of the steering column to chance a quick wave. “Three men,” he told her.
“Uniforms?”
“No. And I don’t think smiling at them will be very helpful. ”
“It’s usually more helpful than glowering. ”
“Glowering won’t help us either. I think we have trouble. ”
“Do you see any guns?” she asked. “I didn’t. ”
He sniffed hard, the sniff of
a man who can’t feel what’s going on in his sinuses anymore. “They’re inside. ”
The ship fell back, and then pulled around closer to Maria—who saw that, yes, the men within were heavily armed and did not look very happy to see them. She beamed at them regardless, and waved like she had for the military ship—which was now well ahead of them, keeping its course along the southbound road below.
No one waved back, but one man cranked open a side window, which jutted out from the craft like a fragile glass wing. He held a megaphone up to his mouth, and leaned out into the clouds.
