Vaill looked nonplussed as well. Then he strode to the door, inspected it for a moment, grabbed the handle with just two fingers and tugged lightly. The steel rectangle fell toward him as if it had fainted, landing with a muted thud facedown on the forest floor.

Vaill turned to Lou, his expression a mix of pride and absolute amazement.

“To Red Cliff,” he said.

“You don’t have to ask twice,” Lou replied.

Chapter 51

CHAPTER 51

If financial solvency is of concern to any of us, then Mr. Roosevelt’s entitlement programs should be of grave concern.

—LANCASTER R. HILL, LECTURE TO THE COLLEGE OF WILLIAM AND MARY, VIRGINIA, FEBRUARY 22, 1937

Lou was standing on a rough-hewn, centuries-old plank floor, staring down through a trapdoor that might have been the gate to hell. And in that instant, in what seemed like a heartbeat, realization caught up with him.

Their presence had to be known.

The element of surprise was gone.

Soon, he was likely going to die—painfully and violently.

Maybe it was the horrible deaths of the two guards. Maybe it was the realization of how much was at stake—how many lives. Maybe it was the notion of never seeing Emily again … or Cap …

It had been twenty-five years since he last felt as panicked as he did at that instant, and as he stared down into the abyss, memories of that night so long ago filled his thoughts.

It was the second of July. He was in his final year of internal medicine residency and had made the decision to switch to emergency medicine the following year. First, though, he had to rotate as chief resident in a large V.A. hospital. The day, his first as chief, had gone easily. He loved the vets and the challenges of caring for them, and was gaining confidence by the hour in what he knew.

Then night came.

The hospital, with hundreds of patients, many of them quite ill, quieted down. Much of the support staff went home. And soon, responsibility for medical care fell to a pair of interns, a junior resident, and him. Always in the past, when he looked over his shoulder in a tense situation, someone senior to him was there with a calming word and useful advice. That night, there was no one. Weighed down, it seemed, by various beepers, he stood in the doorway of the ICU, staring at the monitors and watching the intern in her first harried day as a doc, going about her mountain of work.

It was then that legitimate, gut-wrenching, throat-tightening panic took hold.