Luke swallowed. The day might come when he took Ed up on that offer.

Thank you.

What can I do for you now?

I have a friend, Luke said. Hes an Iraqi doctor and he works at the Chief Medical Examiners office down on E Street. His name is Ashwal Nadoori. I blew my cover for him in-country once upon a time. Saved his ass. He owes me. When we hang up, I want you to call him. Okay?

Got it.

Tell him Im calling in the favor. No uncertain terms. He doesnt have a choice. He told me he would walk across the desert on his knees for me. Something like that. Remind him of it. This is his one chance to repay me. Then go meet… Can you walk?

No. Not really. But I can gimp.

Then gimp over to his office. When you get there, call me back, but dont use the phone youre using now. Steal somebodys phone. Im answering all my calls tonight. If I see a call from a number I dont recognize, Ill know its from you. By then, Ill have picked up another phone. Well do a call between the two stolen phones. Ill give Ashwal his instructions at that time. You might have to help him do what I need done. You might have to twist his arm a little.

All right, Luke. Im pretty good at arm-twisting.

I know you are.

Luke hung up and got out of the car. From his trunk he took a metal box and a green satchel. He walked through the dark neighborhood up to the front door of the house. He had a hunch the neighborhood wasnt really sleeping. Who could sleep on a night like this? He pictured dozens of people all around him, lying awake in bed, maybe talking quietly with loved ones, maybe crying, maybe praying.

If there was a sniper positioned out there, they could take him out now. He braced for the shot, but nothing came.

He climbed the stairs and rang the doorbell. It made a musical chime throughout the house. A few moments passed. Luke put his bags down. He turned and gazed out at the night. House upon house, street upon street, stretching several blocks over to the little Main Street area. For many people, this was probably the worst night of their lives. He was one of those people.

The door opened behind him. He turned and man stood there. He was a tall man with silver hair and a craggy face. He looked like the kind of sixty-five-year-old who had never smoked, and still put five sessions a week in at the gym. He stood in a shooters crouch. His hands held a large pistol. The business end was in Lukes face.

Can I help you? the man said.