“Ummm.” Wolfe studied the matter. “Plundering. I like that idea. Will we try to hold these small cities?”
“No,” Kriegel said. “Just plunder them. You’ll strike without warning, lock their police and other tiny town tyrants in their own jails, and make off, overnight, with every bit of cash and other valuables you can find.”
Wolfe slapped the table with the palm of his hand. “Excellent! I’m with you!”
“The rest of my plan concerns you and me, my dear Commandant Wolfe!”
“Don’t you ‘my dear’ me,” Wolfe said quietly.
“I intend to make my headquarters here, in this encampment, to which I have given the name Camp Orania.”
“You are most welcome.”
“Immediately, using whatever resources you have available, I shall need a handsome house built here for myself and personal staff. Large and beautifully furnished. And air-conditioned. Complete with swimming pool.”
Wolfe blanched. “Of course.”
“We must have the prestige of leadership, you see.”
“Certainly.”
“The membership, as it swells, won’t respect us without. I will need here a praetorian guard, men loyal absolutely to me and my safety. I will need similar domiciles in other parts of the country, with safe and well- planned escape routes out of and into each.”
Wolfe blinked several times.
“Come now,” Kriegel said. “Lieutenant Tracy has given me printouts of greetings from headquarters all over this great country and this great world. You must have my leadership. I insist things be done right. I shall have what I need.”
Wolfe considered this.
Jack said, “Also the helicopters.”
“Yes.” Kriegel said. “Obviously I will need to be transported in and out of these encampments around the country by long-range helicopters.”
“More than one?” Wolfe asked.
Kriegel said, “They have so much downtime.”
“Also he’ll need at least one escort helicopter,” Jack said.
Kriegel laughed. “Not to worry!” He put his hand on Wolfe’s arm. “You see why it is important to put my plans into effect immediately! First thing in the morning you must begin training your men for our first plunder of a small city! To build up respect for us! To build up our membership! To build up our coffers! To give me the freedom to get around, meet with the other commandants, organize, for you to initiate training according to this plan, to work toward our goal!”
“Miami,” Jack said.
Kriegel stood up. “To Miami!”
Tracy jumped up. “To Miami!”
“One last thing,” Kriegel said before leaving the room. “Something must be done about the sanitation of this place. Every time I begin a speech, people throw up. It wasn’t the way the cook cooked. They hung him. It certainly isn’t my speaking. It must be the water.”
“That’s right,” Jack mused. “It must be the water.”
22
“P
“I am.” The young man dressed entirely in white said, “One of our patients, Ms. Faoni, has expressed a wish to meet you. Would you mind?”
Fletch smiled. “Not at all. Where is she?”
“In her room. She’s been concentrating on her weight problem, but …” The young man shrugged. “Will you follow me, please?”
“Sure.”
Fletch followed the young man through the corridors of Blythe Spirit’s second floor. Fletch now knew the place had been built as the estate of a Wisconsin timber baron.
Cindy and Roger had met Fletch at O’Hare International Airport at about one-fifteen. Together they had driven in the Global Cable News van the 112 miles from Chicago to Forward, Wisconsin.
Roger drove at first, while Cindy, who would do the on-camera work on the television feature describing Blythe Spirit’s therapy for those suffering food addictions, studied the material faxed to Fletch on both the problems specific to food addiction, and Blythe Spirit itself. Fletch had studied the material on the airplane from Nashville to Chicago. Together, in the backseat of the van, they worked on the script Fletch had drafted on the airplane.
After Cindy had absorbed the material, she drove the van. She said driving relaxed her.
They were warmly greeted by the staff of Blythe Spirit.
Staying off camera, Fletch helped Roger set up the exterior shots. Once inside, he helped both Roger and Cindy set up the interview locations, helped those to be interviewed, administrators, staff, and two or three willing patients, understand what was wanted from them, helped Cindy and Roger understand what points in particular the interviewees wished to make.
When Fletch was summoned to Crystal Faoni’s room, Cindy was just about to begin an interview with a patient in the sunroom on Blythe Spirit’s second floor.
There was little or no need for Fletch from that point forward.
To get to Nashville Airport in time, Fletch had skipped breakfast. He had eaten an apple in the car. There was no time for him to eat anything at the airport. Nothing but drinks had been offered on the airplane. He had not wanted to delay Cindy and Roger at O’Hare Airport by stopping to eat.
It was late afternoon.
Fletch was very hungry.
He did not know how to ask the staff of Blythe Spirit for food.
As they approached the door to Room 27, the young man in white slowed and spoke quietly to Fletch.
“If you can understand, sir, to ensure her privacy, Ms. Faoni has expressed the wish that she remain behind a curtain while she meets with you. You do understand, don’t you?”
“A curtain?”
“Some of our patients are more sensitive about their condition than others are.”
“Okay.”
Fletch’s stomach growled.
THE ROOM INTO which Fletch was shown was a perfectly pleasant bedroom. The king-sized bed and its side table were lower than usual. Two upholstered chairs had uncommonly wide seats. There were paintings of farm scenes on the beige walls. The outer wall was a sliding glass door onto a small balcony.
The privacy curtain hanging from a rail around the bed had been run back. It pretty well concealed the space on the other side of the bed. The curtain was a white plastic, very like a shower curtain.
Through the opaque curtain, backlit through the glass door, Fletch could see only the outline of a large bulk covered with white material. There was a globe on top of the bulk. The globe had neatly parted dark hair.
It took Fletch a moment to realize he was seeing a seated figure, a person.
From behind the curtain, a voice said: “By my calculation, Fletch, it has taken you less than forty-eight hours, since your first meeting Jack, to find me, and to penetrate my ultimate line of defense.”
The voice was that of Crystal Faoni.
“Hello, Crystal. I wish I could say it’s nice to see you.”
“It really wouldn’t be, you know.”
“How did you know I was here?”
“I heard your voice. I watched you in the courtyard through the window.”
“You still didn’t have to invite me in for a visit.”
