They turned and headed back to the entrance. Another cheer burst out from within, and some champagne corks popped.

“Wish it had been sooner,” McCall said.

“Yeah … Me, too.”

“Beth Snyder wants to say good-bye before you go.”

“Chuck, I really wish Tim could be here to share this.”

“Who knows? Maybe he is.”

“Look, I’m going to skip out without seeing anybody if that’s okay with you. Tell Humphrey we’ll catch up at the hospital. Tell Beth I’ll be in touch.”

“You got it, pal.”

Lou walked around to the driveway, then across to the helipad. A few minutes later, with vivid memories of the chopper ride from beside the Chattahoochee River, he was airborne. Below him, he watched Red Cliff recede until it was little more than a speck.

Then, in a blink, it was gone.

Chapter 56

CHAPTER 56

It is impossible to climb the ladder of success if our government has removed every last rung.

—LANCASTER R. HILL, GRAVESTONE INSCRIPTION, ALL SAINTS CEMETERY, MAY 7, 1945

The white van navigated the circular drive and came to a stop at the gleaming glass front entrance of Arbor General. Lou, his sling still in place, waited curbside, and as soon as he saw the driver exit the van, he came forward to help unload his passenger. Humphrey was all smiles as the power platform lowered his wheelchair to ground level. Lou came up and they shook left hands.

“Long time buddy,” Humphrey said, his eyes sparkling.

He thanked his driver and motored toward the entrance. Lou fell into step alongside him.

“Three whole days,” Lou replied. “But I did appreciate all the e-mails and text messages you sent. It sounds like things went as well as we could hope after I left.”

“In drug companies’ hands now. First batch Phagecil ready to ship. Sorry too late for Cap.”

“Thanks, Humphrey. Thanks to you, it’s still going to help save his life.”

The automatic doors swooshed open and Lou followed the wheelchair into Arbor General’s expansive marble lobby. Having spent so much time there, he had become friendly with several of the salmon-wearing volunteers and he knew many of the security staff by first name.

Though he’d grown fond of them all, he was anxious to return to D.C., and he would, as soon as the arrangements at a top-notch rehab for Cap had been completed. He also had his old job to get back to. Filstrup had called to complain about work piling up, and the absence of a good replacement for Lou, in addition to the angry feedback he had endured from clients at the PWO. Completely out of character, he had offered him reinstatement. Of course, Lou had accepted, but not before working the man for an additional week of vacation annually for himself and also for Babs Peterbee, not retroactive, plus a nice personal donation from Filstrup to Emily’s Cap Duncan Fund.