The Zero Game

58

“Final boarding call for Northwest Airlines flight 1168 to Minneapolis-St. Paul,” a female voice announced through the Rapid City airport terminal. “All ticketed passengers should now be on board.”

Shutting the switch for the PA system, the gate attendant turned to Janos, checking his boarding pass and driver’s license. Robert Franklin. “You have a good day now, Mr. Franklin.”

Janos looked up, but only because his cell phone started vibrating in his jacket pocket. As he pulled the phone out, the gate attendant smiled and said, “Hope it’s a quick call — we’re about to push back…”

Shooting the attendant a dark glare, he headed up the jetway. As he turned his attention to the phone, he didn’t need to check caller ID to know who it was.

“Do you have any conception how much money your sloppiness just cost me?” Sauls asked through the phone. His voice was as calm as Janos had ever heard it, which meant it was even worse than Janos thought.

“Not now,” Janos warned.

“He threw our technician into the sphere. Sixty-four photomultiplier tubes completely shattered. You know how much each of those costs? The components alone came from England, France, and Japan — then had to be assembled, tested, shipped, and reassembled under clean-room conditions. Now we have to redo it sixty-four damn times.”

“You done yet?”

“I don’t think you heard me. You blew it, Janos.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

Sauls went silent. “That’s the third time you’ve said that,” he finally growled. “But let me promise you right now, Janos — if you don’t take care of it soon, we’ll be hiring someone to take care of you.”

With a soft click, the phone went dead.

“Nice to see you tonight,” a flight attendant said as Janos boarded the plane.

Ignoring the attendant, he went straight for his seat in first class and stared out the oval window at the concrete runway. Sauls was still right about one thing: He had been getting sloppy lately. From getting stranded on the first flight, to the second elevator — he should’ve seen those coming. It was the most basic rule of tracking: cover every exit. Sure, he’d underestimated Harris — even with Viv slowing him down, and despite the panic that had to be swirling through his brain, he still somehow managed to plot a few moves ahead. No doubt, all those years in the Senate served him well. But as Janos knew, this was far more serious than politics. Leaning back against the headrest and losing himself in the roar of the jet engines, Janos closed his eyes and took another mental look at the pieces on the board. Time to get back to basics. No question, Harris was playing great chess — but even the best grandmasters know there’s no such thing as a perfect game.