Delliger shrugged. I think youre a good man. Youre obviously a brave one. I thought I should tell you that if it isnt too late, you ought to walk away from this. Just walk away. Maybe theyll leave you alone. Life is a beautiful thing, Mr. Stone. And theres more to it than fighting battles you cant possibly win.

Luke took a deep breath. There was no point in telling this man that it was already too late, at least for Luke himself.

Is that what youre going to do? he said. Walk away?

Delliger smiled. It was a sad, rueful smile. Im going to walk over to my office right now and draft my resignation. Then tomorrow Im going to get my old life back. You know Im a pretty good gardener? Its a favorite hobby of mine, and one I havent been able to indulge in years. I just havent had the time. I know, its already June, so Im a little behind the curve this year. But the growing season is long and forgiving in this part of the country.

Luke nodded. Okay. Goodbye, Mr. Delliger.

Goodbye, Mr. Stone. And good luck to you, whatever you decide.

Delliger turned and started off across the field again. Luke stayed against the wall. He watched Delliger dwindle into the distance. When Delliger reached the fifty-yard line, a single gunshot rang out.

CRACK.

It echoed off the grandstands of the stadium, and through the tree-lined streets of the surrounding area.

Lukes eyes scanned the empty stadium, trying to spot the shooter. He hadnt noticed a flash, even a suppressed one, so the shot hadnt come from the broadcast booth. He would have seen it from the corner of his eye. He realized that bullet might have come a long way. The best shooters could make that shot from two thousand yards, even longer. The United States military trained some of the best shooters alive.

He gazed back across the field. Delligers body was out there, a dark lump halfway across. It occurred to him that they hadnt even bothered to silence the shot. They could have, and they didnt.

Luke removed the black hood from his pocket and pulled it on over his head. The only thing showing was his eyes. He slid down along the concrete wall toward the concession concourse. A moment later, he had disappeared into the shadows.

Chapter 46

June 6th

12:03 a.m.

On the Road

The world around him was black.

The man was a long-haul trucker driving through the night. He was below Florence, South Carolina, in that part of the state where the exits were few and far between. The dark highway stretched away in the glare of his headlights. His plan was to reach northern Florida before he got off the road, maybe Jacksonville, maybe St. Augustine if he could make it that far.