He hung DO NOT DISTURB signs on each door. A few minutes later, he was back in his rental car headed for the airport. Harper was still in his office, burrowing through his paperwork like an overgrown mole.

“I talked to the TV crew,” Schroeder said. “They've changed their minds. They've decided to head down to Kodiak Island to shoot a feature on bears.”

“Shit! Why didn't they tell me?”

“You can call them and ask. But they were on their way out when I called them.”

Harper snatched up the phone and called the hotel. He asked to be connected to the TV crew's rooms. When no one answered, he slammed the phone down on its cradle. He rubbed his eyes, and seemed on the verge of breaking into tears.

“That's it,” he said. “I was counting on a check from this run to make the monthly payment on the big bird. I'm ruined.”

“You don't have any other charters scheduled?”

“It's not that easy. It takes days, sometimes weeks, to put together a deal.”

“Then the plane and boat are free for charter?”

“Yeah, they're free. You know anyone interested in chartering them?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Schroeder reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a thick packet of bills, which he tossed onto a pile of papers. “This is for the trip out and the boat. I'll pay you an equal amount for the return flight. My only condition is that you stand by for a few days until I'm ready to leave.”

Harper picked the packet up and riffled the edges. They were all hundred-dollar bills. “I can practically buy a new plane for this.” He frowned. “This isn't something illegal, is it?”

“Nothing illegal at all. You'll be carrying no cargo. Only me.”

“You got papers?”

“Passport and visa are all up-to-date and in order.” They should be, for the money he paid for them, Schroeder thought. He had stopped in Seattle and waited impatiently while his favorite ID forger had cooked up a set of papers for Professor Kurtz.

Harper extended his hand. “You've got yourself a deal.”

“Good. When can we leave?”

“Any time you're ready.”

“I'm ready.”

The plane took off an hour later. Schroeder sat back in his seat, enjoying the solitude that came from being the only passenger on the plane, and sipped on a glass of Scotch that Harper had thoughtfully provided. Harper was at the controls. As Fairbanks faded in the distance and the plane struck off toward the west, he took a deep breath. He was aware that he was an old man trying to do a young man's job. Schroeder had asked not to be bothered for a while. He was tired and needed some sleep.

He would need deadly clarity for the task ahead. He cleared his mind of all emotion and closed his eyes.

NUMA 6 - Polar Shift

17