The transmission came through clearly, even when John and his benefactors disappeared into the large ranch-style home. holt: Get comfortable everybody, make calls if you want. There's bathrooms all over this damned place. titisi: Not what I expected for a hunting lodge. valerie: We've got everything to drink. John? john: Not for me, thanks. valerie: Some cold water at least? john: That might hit the spot.
'Listen to him,' said Weinstein, actually rubbing his long-fingered hands together in a parody of enthusiasm. 'My Joe. My man. My secret agent. My handsome little goy-boy nobody can resist.'
'I think he's scared,' said Sharon.
'I hope so.'
The transmitted conversation followed John, of course, and for ten minutes amounted to little more than polite mundanities. At one point Titisi said that he could use a few hundred men like John in Uganda. The reel-to- reel took it all. Then the moment of revelation that Weinstein had been careful not to expect, was thrown at him like a firecracker:
Holt: I was thinking we could put you up at my home in Orange County for the night. It's comfortable. I realize it would be a long commute out here to work, but I don't see any sense in stranding you here with those scum on the prowl.
John: That's really nice of you to offer, but it wouldn't sit well with me.
Holt: Relatives around here? Friends? John: Well, not exactly. I've only been in Anza Valley for a few months.
Valerie: Then what doesn't sit well? John: Well, it's an imposition for one thing. valerie: You ought to see Dad's house. He's got enough room for Juma's army, then some. Really, it could work out jus fine. It would give you a chance to let the trouble blow over, then set up a new trailer. If you plan on staying out here, that is.
Holt: He saved your life, Valerie, that doesn't mean you can run his.
John: (laughter) You know, that's really a generous offer but I don't know. It's-
Holt: It's our way of saying thank you. A small way. Please let us be generous. What you did today was beyond generosity It still hasn't really sunk in. valerie: Please?
John: Well, I really would be grateful for a place to stay tonight.
Holt: Then it's settled. You'll be comfortable with us for a night, John. We've got plenty of comfort on Liberty Ridge. John: Liberty Bridge?
Valerie: Ridge. Dad names everything. Can't even have a house without making it a proper noun. You'll like it, though- and of course your dog is welcome. I've got fourteen springers and Dad's got another six, so there's plenty of kennel run.
John: Well, there might be a problem there, because I've got two more out on the property. I left them with the groundskeeper when I went hunting this morning.
Valerie: Are you kidding? Three more dogs won't even be noticed.
Holt: She's right.
John: At some point I need to go back to the trailer and see if anything's left. I mean, I don't want to burden you with that.
Holt: Understood. We'll do it before we leave, give you a hand if you want.
John: I'd like to bury Rusty out there, too.
Holt: With honors.
John: That would be great.
'That would be just one-hundred percent totally fucking great,' Weinstein whispered. 'I'd scream right now, but I'm afraid they'd hear me.'
'You can bellow all the way back to Orange County.' 'Maybe I will.'
But he didn't. Instead, while Dumars drove, Josh called Norton in Washington and told him that Wayfarer was now the proud owner of Owl, Joshua's chosen code name for John.
'All the Hollywood stuff, go down okay?' Norton asked.
'One take.'
'How'd it look?' 'Rated X for violence.'
'You didn't get the live rounds and blanks mixed up? The girl didn't rip Sammy's blood bag off his shoulder?'
'It was perfect.'
'Rusty die nobly?'
'Yeah, he was great.'
'Fast?'
'Instantly.'
'You know that dog cost us seven thousand, four hundred dollars? That's room, board and training for three years. Club and Fang actually let us amortize him because we wouldn't be sending him back. Those wags.'
'Club and Fang sent us one perfect dog.'
'True. Things here are odd, Josh. Frazee can't get enough of Wayfarer and Owl. He's old enough to confuse one with the other half the time-you know how Crazy could never keep the code names straight? Anyway, he's riding this one like a jockey. He's good for the money, so long as I let him feel involved. It's like having a banker involved in your remodel. You need the loan but you wish he wouldn't hang around the job site.'
'How bad could he jam us?'
'He holds the Hate Crimes purse. You know that.'
'I also know he goes all the way back to Quantico with Wayfarer. Student and professor, by way of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.'
'He believes his ongoing interest is atonement for Wayfarer's lapse. Frazee is atoning vigorously. He actually mentioned ATF-some crack about letting them storm the walls of Liberty Ridge once and for all. A joke, of course. But I think it's obvious he doesn't just want to bust Wayfarer-he wants to humiliate the living shit out of him too.'
'If Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms gets within one mile of this case you'll have my resignation.'
'What could that possibly matter to Walker Frazee?'
'Christ, Norton, we can't let ATF into this! It's-'
'-We're not letting ATF into this, we're just letting Crazy Frazee pass gas. Now, next we put Owl's toys in place, right?'
'Goddamn, Norton. Don't say things like that to me.'
'It doesn't hurt for you to know where the wind's blowing back here.'
'From a windbag. I just can't believe he'd even joke about-'
'-Hush, son. I said I'd take care of Walker and I'll take care of Walker. Now, do we put Owl's toys in place?'
'Yeah, if Frazee keeps the Bat Boys off the walls long enough to-'
'-Joshua, comport yourself professionally, please.'
'Yes, we deliver the toys. And we start to leak news of our prime suspect.'
'Blow the smoke, young man.'
'Sharon will actually do the blowing, sir.'
'Well, tell her I could say something that would get me disciplined as a sexual predator.'
Weinstein told her.
'You're a dirty old lecher,' Dumars piped across the car toward the phone, smiling but her face quite red.
'Tell her thank you, Joshua.'
He told her.
Back in the Tech Services yard, Weinstein collected his tape and binoculars and checked the van with the services clerk. The billet was already stamped with a direct Washington charge number, the Bureau version of a credit line. The clerk nodded reverently to Joshua as he accepted the keys, and Weinstein nodded back at him.
Then he did something he had never done before. Without stating a business-related reason, without pulling rank, without even asking her to do the driving, Joshua asked Sharon Dumars to an early dinner-his treat.
Sharon noted his flushed face, the tightened bobbing of his Adam's apple.
