“I’ve had the crews standing by ever since this went down,” Jon said. “Everything will be ready. If your .. . benefactor can keep the feds off our back while we generate, it’ll be much better for us.”

“Getting a lot of heat out there?”

“Ever since the new partnership deal, we’ve been getting shit on...Jon looked sheepishly at the Duffields and shrugged an apology. Cheryl Duffield looked mad enough to scold him for the rest of the day, Kelsey just giggled. “Yes, we’ve been getting a lot of attention—from everyone.”

“Our benefactor should be heading off most of the heat,” Patrick said. “Hang in there.”

“We’ll do whatever we need to do to get Wendy back. You just watch yourself. We’re praying for you.”

“Thanks, Jon.”

“Good luck, Patrick,” Jon said. “We’ll be ready. Count on it.” He closed up the phone.

“Was that General McLanahan?” Cheryl Duffield asked. Jon nodded as he opened the phone again and dialed a number. “Where is he? What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain everything on the way back to Blytheville,” Jon replied. On the cell phone, Jon said, “Paul? Listen, we’re expecting— You got it already? Good. Any problems ... ? Excellent. We’re heading back now. We should be there in four hours.” He hung up the phone, then made another call to the flight crew of the corporate jet, then to the driver of their car waiting to take them back to Tonopah Municipal.

“Kelsey? Where is Kelsey?” Cheryl asked. The sound sent chills through everyone—especially through Sandy, the security guard ... ,

... because it wasn’t until just then that she noticed that Sasha wasn’t right beside her. “Sasha!” she shouted. “Aspetta! Fermi! ”

They found the two of them moments later—sitting in front of each other, with Kelsey leaning up against one of the AL-52 Dragon’s huge main landing gear tires. “Kelsey!” Cheryl Duffield shouted. “Get away from that dog!”

“But she’s nice, Mom. . ..”

“Don’t move, little girl,” Sandy said. “Sasha, basta! Adesso! ” Despite her commands, however, the dog stayed right with Kelsey. “I don’t understand this.. ..”

“I think the dog likes Kelsey—and not as a snack, either,” Jon said with a smile. “Don’t take it personally— your dog didn’t rip a stranger to shreds.” Kelsey gave Sasha a big hug and a tickle on its head between its flattened, contented-looking ears before she was slowly, carefully taken away by her mother, and Sasha was led away with a string of sharp admonitions in Italian from Sandy.

Once they were back in the Suburban on the ninety-minute ride back to the airport, Cheryl Duffield finally asked in between a flurry of cell phone calls, “Okay, what’s going on, Jon? Who’s going to launch what?”

He looked at her, then at Kelsey, with a little apprehension. He then shrugged. “I promised I’d tell you everything at the appropriate time—I guess this is it,” he said. And he started explaining. The explanation continued well past the ride to the airport—in fact, it continued well after takeoff. Kelsey listened to each and every word, sitting impassively, her little hands folded on her lap as usual.