OBIE TURNED THE Volvo in at Dulles Airport and took the shuttle bus to the main terminal. He bought a ticket on a United Airlines flight leaving for Chicago in about two hours, went through security, and hit the restroom along with a dozen other guys. He went into a stall with his duffel bag and came out later with a collapsible roller and wearing a warm-up suit, glasses, and a ball cap. He walked to an exit, rode the bus back to the car rental outlets, leased a new set of wheels using a credit card under an alias—an Audi this time—and sped west on the toll road.

He peered in the rearview mirror. If anyone could keep up a tail after that, they deserved to win.

An hour later he pulled into his hideaway in the woods. He drove the car into the barn and closed the doors. Using a rake to shove straw out of the way on the floor of the barn, he revealed a metal hatch. He removed the hatch and hoisted himself down through the opening. He flicked a switch and old fluorescent tube lighting blinked on. He skipped down the metal steps and put his feet down on a solid concrete floor. He had not built this place. The farmer who’d originally owned the property had grown up in the thirties. When the fifties had come along he’d decided to build a bomb shelter under his barn, thinking that some wood, straw, and inches of concrete could protect him from any thermonuclear shenanigans the Soviet Union might decide to throw at America.

Robie moved down a short hallway and stopped. In front of him was a wall of firepower that he had drawn on in the past to accomplish his work. It included pistols, rifles, shotguns, and even a surface-to-air missile launcher. It seemed James Bondish, but was actually just the typical stock-in-trade for people in Robie’s field. He took down what he thought he might need and stacked it against one wall.

He opened a drawer of a workbench and pocketed a couple of electronic transmitters. He spent another ten minutes picking out various other items that might come in handy and packed everything up in a large duffel bag. He carried it up the steps, closed the hatch, spread the straw back over it, and put the duffel in the trunk of the Audi.

Five minutes later he was speeding back east. He checked in at an extended-stay motel and unloaded his equipment. He changed clothes and called Julie. Robie had left her in the care of Vance and the FBI. Vance had only told her superiors that Julie was a possible witness and needed protection. Two agents from out of town had been called in to assist with the protection detail. Right now Robie didn’t really trust anyone in D.C.

Julie sounded excited. “I got an idea. I called the Broomes on the phone you gave me. And I got a text back,” she said. “They want to meet.”

“You know it’s probably not the Broomes, right?” said Robie in a calming tone. “They could have had the Broomes’ phone, and when they got your call, they just texted back to your number. If it were the Broomes they probably would have simply called.”

“Do you always have to be a downer?” asked Julie.

“Where and when?”

She told him.

“Can you come and pick me up?” she asked.

“Julie, you’re not going anywhere near that place.”

He could almost see her face falling across the digital ether.

“What?”

“This is most likely a setup. You’re not going. I’ll handle it.”

“But we’re a team. You said so.”

“I’m not putting you in any more danger than you already are. I’ll handle it and then report back to you.”

“That sucks.”

“I’m sure from your point of view it does suck, but it’s the smart thing to do.”

“I can take care of myself, Will.”

“Under most circumstances I would agree with that. This is not one of those circumstances.”

“Thanks for nothing.”

“You’re welcome.”

But she had already clicked off.

Robie put the phone back into his pocket and mentally prepared for the upcoming meeting. At some point whoever was behind this would no longer be interested in keeping him alive. He wondered if that time was about to come.

He gunned up and slipped a few other items into his jacket pocket, then called Vance and filled her in.

“I’ll come with you,” she said.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Don’t ask me again, Robie. Because my answer might just change.”