Payback

119

“What do you think the possibility is this has all been a bad dream?”

Lia looked across the aisle of the Air Force 737 that was ferrying her and Karr back to the Washington, D.C., area. He had contorted his huge frame between the seats in an effort to get comfortable.

“I don’t think it was a dream,” she told him.

“A nightmare?”

“No.”

“But it could all be a wild-goose chase,” said Karr. “We’ve been on them before.”

“You mean, what do I think the odds are that there’s no nuclear warhead?”

“Yeah. Look at it this way. Babin or whoever he hired to get the bomb could have been at the border twenty-four hours ago.”

“If he drove like you. And flew over the mountains and desert.”

“If he drove like me. Right. Now, twenty-four hours from the border — he could be just out to D.C.”

“Or he could still be in Mexico, which is the CIA theory,” said Lia.

“Yeah, but they’re always wrong. Good job, by the way.”

“What?”

“With the election cards. And the neo-Marxist wackos in the jungle. That’s all gonna get lost, you know. We’re not going to get any attaboys for it.”

“We don’t need any attaboys.”

“Speak for yourself, Princess,” said Karr, shifting his legs against the seat backs. “I need all the attaboys I can get. And steaks.”