CHAPTER 36

FREETECH RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT OFFICE

SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA

Junie Flynn did not expect the call to go through. It hadn’t the last dozen times she’d phoned, and it was becoming apparent to her that Mr. Church was dodging her calls. That annoyed her. Partly because it seemed beneath the man’s dignity, and partly because it was unkind. If it had been anyone but Church, she’d have thought he was being cowardly.

But Church surprised her by answering on the third ring.

“Miss Flynn,” he said, then corrected it. “Junie.”

She didn’t ask him how he was or what was new. This wasn’t social, and she got straight to it.

“Have you heard from Joe?”

“Junie…”

“I’m using the scrambler,” she said.

“My answer would be the same regardless,” said Church. “No. He has not been in touch.”

“It’s been so long,” she said, trying to keep both heartbreak and fury from her voice, and aware that she was failing in both cases. “It’s been weeks.”

“Yes,” said Church, “it has.”

“What are you doing to find him?”

“Everything that we can.”

“Can I have a real answer instead of a pat one?”

“Junie, listen to me. I know you’re scared. Terrified. So are all his friends.”

“But—”

“Let me finish,” said Church gently. “We are looking. We have many of our allies looking. I have my entire network on the alert.”

“How do you even know he’s alive?” she demanded.

There was a pause. “For the same reason you know that he is. We would know.”

Junie closed her eyes against the tears that wanted to fall. The tears that fell regardless.

“Please,” she said, “find him. Help him.”

“Yes,” said Church. “Yes…”

CHAPTER 37

LAKE PALESTINE

TEN MILES SOUTHWEST OF NOONDAY, TEXAS

The two men who sat on the top of the picnic table looked like truckers. The taller of the two was a huge slab of a white guy with the sleeves cut off a threadbare denim jacket. His arms were packed with corded muscle and covered with Marine Corps tattoos. He wore jeans, scuffed work boots, and had a pair of mirrored sunglasses pushed high on his short blond hair. He had a long scar slanting downward from above his left eyebrow, across the bridge of his nose, and down to his right cheek. Both his canine teeth were gold, and the beer bottle clinked against one of them each time he took a sip.