“Don’t blame you a bit, Ms. Mechadi. We’ll take good care of it.”

Ridley stuck his curled thumb and forefinger between his lips and let out a sharp whistle. His men came into the warehouse, placed the wooden box on the dolly, and lined the container with additional pads. Using straps to keep the statue steady, they lowered it into the box, and moved the loaded dolly out of the warehouse. The tailgate lifted the load to the level of the cargo level and the movers pushed it into the truck.

Two movers got into the back of the truck. One man produced a rifle and sat on the box, as if he were riding shotgun on a stagecoach. The other closed the door, and Carina heard it lock from the inside. The driver got behind the wheel and Ridley came over with a clipboard, which he handed to Carina.

“Have to ask you to sign this form, just to make it all legal.”

Carina scrawled her signature across the bottom of the form and handed the clipboard back to Ridley.

“That’s my car over there,” she said. “I’ll follow you to the Smithsonian.”

“No need, Ms. Mechadi. We know where to go. We’ll take care of things, and you can go about your business.”

“This is my business,” she said with characteristic firmness.

Ridley’s eyes grew hard as he watched Carina walk to her car. He swore softly under his breath and climbed into the cab, where he made a quick call on his cell phone. He talked for a few moments and clicked off. He turned to the driver and barked: “Move!”

With Carina’s car tailing it, the truck pulled out of the warehouse complex onto the road. The vehicles wound their way through suburban Maryland neighborhoods. Carina began to relax. Ridley and his men seemed competent and efficient, almost in a military fashion. Although she didn’t like firearms, she was comforted by the fact that the movers were armed. Unlike the defenseless crewmen aboard the containership, they would be able to put up a fight.

Carina was familiar with Washington, but the surrounding bedroom communities were a bewildering maze of commercial and residential. The truck drove past shopping malls, gas stations, and subdivisions. She expected that they would eventually turn onto the Beltway or some other highway that headed into the District and was surprised when the truck pulled over in front of a convenience store.

Ridley got out and ambled back to the car.

“How you doin’, Miss Mechadi?”

“I’m fine. Is there a problem?”

He nodded. “Heard on the radio that there’s a mess on the highway leading into the city. Truck overturned and traffic’s backed up for miles. We’re going to use a back way into town. It kinda winds around, so I thought I’d warn you.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you. I’ll make sure to stay close.”