Varney pitied whoever he was chasing if he caught up to him.
LUTHER COULD HEAR THE SOUNDS OF THE MEN BEHIND HIM.
They had recovered faster than he had thought. His head start had
dwindled but it still should be enough. They had made a big mistake by
not jumping in the van and running him down.
They had to have known he would have transportation. It wasn’t like he
would have coptered in. But he was grateful that they weren’t quite as
smart as they probably should have been. If they had he would not be
alive to see the sun come up.
He took a shortcut through a path in the woods, spotted on his last
walk-through. It gained him about a minute. His breath came in quick
bursts, like machine-gun fire. His clothes felt heavy on him; as in a
child’s dream, his legs seemed to move in slow motion.
Finally he broke free from the trees, and he could see his car and was
again grateful for having taken the precaution to back in.
A HUNDRED YARDS BEHIND, A THERMAL FIGURE OTHER THAN Varney’s finally
came alive on Burton’s and Collins screens.
A man running, and running hard. Their hands flew to their shoulder
holsters. Neither weapon was effective long-range but they couldn’t
worry about that now.
Then an engine roared to life and Burton and Collin ran like a tornado
was raging at their heels.
Varney was still ahead of them and to the left. He would have a better
line of fire, but would he shoot? Something told them he would not;
that was not part of his training, to fire at a fleeing person who was
no longer a danger to the man he was sworn to protect. However, Varney
did not know that at stake here was more than a mere beating heart.
There Was an entire institution that would never be the same, in
addition to two Secret Service agents who were certain they had done
nothing wrong, but were intelligent enough to realize that the blame
would fall heavily on their shoulders.
Burton was never much of a runner, but he picked up his pace as these
thoughts flew through his head, and the younger Collin was hard-pressed
to keep up with him. But Burton knew it was too late. His legs started
to slow down as the car exploded out and turned away from them. In
moments it was already two hundred yards down the road.
Burton stopped running, dropped to his knee, aimed his gun, but all he
could see was the dust kicked up by the fleeing vehicle. Then the
taillights went out and in a moment he lost the target entirely.
He turned to see Collin next to him, looking down at him, the reality of
the whole event starting to set in. Burton slowly got up andput his gun
away. He took off his goggles; Collin did likewise.
They looked at each other.
Burton sucked air in; his limbs shook. His body was finally reacting to
the recent exertions now that the adrenaline had stopped flowing. It was
over, wasn’t it?
Then Varney came running up. Burton was not too distraught to note with
an envious twinge and a small measure of pride that the younger man
wasn’t even out of breath. He would see to it that Varney and Johnson
didn’t suffer with them. They didn’t deserve that.
He and Collin would go down, but that was all. He felt bad about Collin;
however, there was nothing he could do about that. But when Varney
spoke, Burton’s thoughts of the future went from complete and absolute
doom to a small glimmer of hope.
“I got the license plate number.”
“WHERE THE HELL WAS HE?” RUSSELL LOOKED INCREDUlously around the
bedroom. “What? Was he under the goddamned bed?”
She tried to stare Burton down. The guy hadn’t been under the bed, nor
in any of the closets. Burton had examined all those spaces when he was
sanitizing the room. He told her so in no uncertain terms.
Burton looked at the rope and then the open window.
“Jesus, it was like the guy was watching us the whole time, knew right