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"He will be. Thanks. And now why don't you get some sleep?"
"You'll notice that all four monitors are glowing dully," Casey continued. He pointed at the monitors, one of which was on a table too small for it, and the others sitting on the floor. "But when the proper buttons are pushed, they begin to show us things. For example, the physical location of the AFCs in which I have activated the transponder."
One of the monitors showed a map of the world. Lightning-bolt symbols showed the locations of the radios in Germany, Argentina, Uruguay, Hungary, and the United States.
"At various scales," Casey went on, "for example, here in the States."
A second screen lit up, with a map of the United States, showing lightning bolts in Nevada, Texas, North Carolina, and the District of Columbia.
"Or closer."
The first screen went blank, then lit up with a map of the Washington area, with lightning bolts at the Nebraska Avenue Complex, the Baltimore airport, and the safe house in Alexandria.
"Or closer."
The second screen now showed a map of the Baltimore airport, with a lightning bolt coming out of a hangar.
"That's the one in your Gulfstream. And thanks to the friendly folks at Google, we have this view of that, as well."
A third screen lit up showing a three-dimensional image of the Signature Flight Support, Inc., hangar.
"God knows that picture wasn't taken yesterday, or even last month, but it's better than no picture. And I sure as hell didn't want to hack into Fort Meade."
"Could you do that?"
"Who do you think set up their imagery? Whenever we need that, we can. Just didn't think it wise in the middle of an op."
Castillo was awed. He smiled. "Go to bed, Aloysius."
"And so far as people are concerned"--Casey punched more buttons on a keyboard. The world map reappeared with symbols of humans--"this shows the last known location of everybody of interest."
Casey then repeated the process of demonstration, which this time ended with a three-dimensional view of the ranch house, above which was a line of numbered symbols. A chart to the right identified the numbers. Castillo was represented by the number 1, Casey by the number 2, and so on.
"I'm awed."
"This is pretty rough, Charley, but it's up and running."
"Now, go to bed. We're going to have to wait for what comes next."
"I think I will."
"Thanks, Aloysius."
Casey yawned, then made a deprecating gesture and walked out of the library.
Castillo sat down in the armchair Lester had vacated, reached for the coffee thermos, poured himself a cup, and began to wait for what would come next.
XVII
[ONE]
Double-Bar-C Ranch
Near Midland, Texas
1725 9 January 2006
The first thing Castillo had to wait for was the arrival of former FBI Special Agent David W. Yung, Jr. Jack Davidson, who had gone into Midland to meet Yung at the airport, called at half past twelve to report that Yung hadn't been on the plane, had probably missed his connection at Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport and might be on the next plane, or planes, one of which was due at two something and the other at four something.
