As Skow pondered the situation, Geli punched up a map of North Carolina on her screen. What would Ten¬nant do after getting on the river? Where could he go? There were five miles of water between the ferry and the sound, and no road on the south bank from which to surveil the river. If Tennant knew that, he could beach the canoe anywhere.
'What do you want to do?' Skow asked.
'I want real-time satellite imagery of that river right now. Highest possible resolution. You authorize it, I'll give the NRO the coordinates.'
'What else?'
'I need more manpower. I don't have near the tactical strength to carry out a wide-area search in wooded ter¬rain.'
'That's a problem. Until we go public with some form of this story, we're low on manpower.'
'Then you'd better think about going public, and fast.'
'Listen, Geli, if we lose him here, we still have a good shot. I'm going to be giving you some information that could put you one step ahead of Tennant.'
Her internal radar went on alert. 'What kind of information?'
'You'll see when you get it. It's from an unimpeach¬able source.'
'There's no such thing. Is this an NSA source?'
'Yes.'
'The agency hasn't given me anything reliable so far.'
'That's about to change. I'm in a hurry. Have we cov¬ered everything?'
'No. Rules of engagement.'
Skow took an audible breath. 'I'm comfortable with your rescue scenario.'
'I'll bet you are. I want a shoot-to-kill order.'
Skow did not reply.
Geli felt her temper rising. 'Look, we've waited-'
'Give me a moment to think.'
'Why are you so damn wishy-washy about this?'
'Look… this is a hostage situation. You have the tactical experience. I have to leave the rules of engage¬ment to your discretion.'
Geli shook her head and muttered, 'Be careful what you wish for, right?'
'The burden of command, Ms. Bauer.'
'Command isn't a burden, Skow. It's nirvana. The bur¬den is putting up with ass-covering bureaucrats second-guessing every move after the fact.'
Skow chuckled softly. 'You sound exactly like your father. I'll mention it to him.'
This comment stopped Geli cold. 'You do that,' she said, covering.
After Skow hung up, she sat in silence, lightly touching the scar on her cheek. So Skow and her father was more than a passing acquaintance. She didn't like that idea. Not at all.
CHAPTER 18
I had been paddling steadily for an hour when I spotted the boat ramp. It lay at the foot of the high bridge over the Cashie River, the one we'd crossed on our way to the ferry. The river had widened since the ferry, and sooner or later it would open into the vast expanse of Albemarle Sound. In open water we would be easier to spot from the air. I'd seen no further sign of the surveillance plane, but that gave me limited comfort.
Drifting under the overhanging trees on the right bank, I thought about the ramp. There would be a park¬ing lot there. Trucks and boat trailers. Probably fisher¬men returning from their day of sport.
Rachel turned on her seat and sat facing me, watch¬ing intently as I paddled. 'You've done this before.'
'What? Been on the run?'
'Paddled a canoe.'
I nodded. 'My brother and I camped a lot with my dad around Oak Ridge. Hunted and fished, too.'
She looked into the trees on the bank. The sun hovered stubbornly behind us, but the shadows under the limbs were already deepening to blue-black.
'Are we safe now?'
'For a while. The people who are hunting us depend on technology. If we were out in the world, in a city or on a highway, we'd already have been caught. Here the playing field is more even.'
She toyed with the blue-and-white nylon stern line. 'Who is this Geli Bauer person you talked about?'
I was surprised she remembered the name, but I shouldn't have been. She'd never forgotten anything I told her. 'She's a killer, and she's hunting us now.'
'How do you know she's a killer?'
'She was in the army for a while. Geli's fluent in Arabic, so they dropped her into Iraq with some com¬mandos before Desert Storm. To interrogate captured Republican Guard troops. She executed two Iraqi pris¬oners because they couldn't keep up with her unit behind the lines. Cut their throats. Even the Delta Force soldiers with her were shocked.'
'I guess women have come further than feminists think.'
'No. Female assassins are an ancient tradition. Geli gave Ravi Nara a lecture about it one day.'
'She sounds like a sociopath.' Rachel dropped the stern line and wearily rubbed her neck.
'She'd make an interesting case study for you.'
'Do you think she killed Fielding?'
'Yes. She'd know all about drugs that could cause death by mimicking a stroke, and she has constant access to everything at Trinity. The food, the water, everything.'
I paddled harder, and the bridge over the Cashie came steadily closer. Rachel looked over her shoulder at the massive structure. Cars drove onto it every few seconds. That bridge represented civilization. I stopped paddling to give my burning back muscles a break. The silence was almost total.
'Listen to the birds,' she said.
I listened, but the sound my ears picked out of the silence was not natural. A faint rumbling drone was floating down the river. It could have been a boat motor, but my gut told me it wasn't.
'What is it?' Rachel asked. 'You look scared.'
I scanned the right bank, looking for a place to beach the canoe. If a small plane flew right down the river, over¬hanging branches wouldn't give us any cover. The engine was growing louder. Even Rachel heard it now.
'That sounds close,' she said.
Just ahead, a diseased tree had fallen into the river. It lay half in and half out of the water, its dead branches and leaves fanning out like ghostly wings. The space between the tree and the bank was the kind of spot where you could expect a water moccasin to drop into your boat if you were stupid enough to pull under it looking for fish. I guided the canoe straight, into the narrow chute, feeling a little like Hawkeye in The Last of the Mohicans. I only hoped I had some of his luck.
Seconds after the bow plowed into the bank, the rum¬ble of the approaching engine became a roar. I peered through the trees and saw exactly what I'd feared: a small plane flying twenty feet over the water, like a Vietnam pilot giving support fire to riverine troops.
'They can't see us, can they?' Rachel asked.
'Not without thermal-imaging equipment. But they may have that. Get down low in the boat.'
She slid off her seat and lay flat in the bottom. I lay beside her. The plane's engine vibrated the aluminum skin of the canoe. We stayed in the bottom of the boat, waiting to see if it would circle back for another look. It didn't.
I climbed back onto my seat and stroked toward the bridge.
'I can't believe this is happening,' Rachel said. 'I can't believe a woman I've never met is trying to hunt me down and kill me. How could she do that?'
