Twenty minutes later, during the takeoff roll, Nathan let his head press against the seat as the Lear’s wings bit into the midnight air. Behind him, Henning was silent. He’d been rather subdued on the short drive to the airport. Perhaps the horror of today’s events had finally soaked in. Whatever the reason, Nathan welcomed the silence. Despite the catnaps he’d been taking over the last four days, a few hours here, a few hours there, a deep fatigue had crippled him. He was sluggish, both physically and mentally, and gauged his operational readiness at 50 percent. Not good. Unacceptable in military terms. Sooner or later, preferably sooner, he’d need an uninterrupted slumber of at least eight hours. But for now, another catnap would have to do. Sleep when you can. He reclined his seat, extended the leg rest, and closed his eyes. He hoped his personal demons would take the night off, especially in front of Henning.

* * *

The jet’s PA system woke him just after 0530 Central time. “Good morning campers,” Jenkins’s voice announced. “We hope you enjoyed the ride. We’ll be on the ground in twenty minutes. We called ahead for a taxi, should be there by the time we touch down.”

Nathan looked out the window and saw the faint glow from Kansas City to the east. Directly below, a few scattered lights here and there were the only indicators that something other than an empty black void was down there. Kansas. The heartland of America. Somewhere, amid the endless wheat fields and buffalo ranches, was a giant ball of twine. He’d seen a picture of it, but couldn’t remember where, perhaps a travel magazine in his dentist’s office.

Jenkins greased the landing, making the smoothest touchdown Nathan had ever felt. The thrust reversers deployed and Jenkins gunned the engine, gently applying the brakes at the same time. At the end of the runway, the jet turned onto the taxiway and rolled back toward the hangars. After the engines had spooled down, First Officer Williamson appeared and opened the fuselage door. He lowered the steps into place. Cool, damp air carrying burned jet fuel greeted them. Nathan liked the smell.

“There’s our ride,” Williamson offered.

Nathan looked in the direction of the hangars and saw a taxi approaching. It stopped about a hundred feet away. Its Middle Eastern driver got out, but out of respect or apprehension, didn’t approach the jet.

Williamson continued. “We need a few minutes to shut down and secure the aircraft.”

Nathan complimented the first officer on the landing before grabbing his overnight bag from the rear luggage compartment. Henning also retrieved his two carry-ons, an overnight bag and from the look of the other, a laptop. Nathan let Henning take the lead exiting the aircraft. They walked over to the cab and as usual, the driver took a little too long looking at Nathan’s face.