Spencerville

eleven P.M. He looked out the windshield. “Nasty weather.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “I guess we knew this hurricane was on the way.”
    “That’s what they’ve been saying all week. This morning they said it would touch Virginia Beach, then hit the Eastern Shore, and we’d get gale-force winds and rain by tonight. They were right.”
    “They certainly were. Hey, when you get to Route 7, go west.”
    “Okay.” A few miles later, Stewart asked, “How far west are we going, Mr. Landry?”
    “Oh, about… let’s see—about five hundred miles.”
    “Sir?”
    “Stewart, you’re finally going to have the opportunity to see the great state of Ohio.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “It’s real simple. I have to be in Ohio. No aircraft are flying out of Washington. We are driving to Ohio.”
    Stewart glanced at Keith, then at his radio and telephone, then said, “Mr. Adair didn’t… he said to…”
    “Mr. Adair is not on top of the situation, but he will be when I can speak to him.”
    Stewart stayed silent. In his many years as a government driver, Keith knew, Stewart had learned to do what he was told, regardless of how inconvenient or bizarre it may have seemed to him. Still, Keith thought he should say a few words to the man. Keith said, “You can call your wife and explain.”
    “Yes, sir. Maybe I should speak to Mr. Adair first. I don’t know if I’m authorized—”
    “Stewart, I just had a chat this morning with the secretary of defense and the president of the United States. Would you like me to call either of them now and get authorization?”
    “No, sir.”
    “I’ll speak to Mr. Adair in due time. You pay attention to the road. I’ll dial your wife. What’s the number?”
    Stewart gave him the number, and Keith dialed. It took him several tries to get through because of the weather, but finally a female voice came on the line, and Keith said, “Hello, Mrs.—”
    Keith looked at Stewart, who said, “Arkell.”
    “Mrs. Arkell, this is General Landry of the National Security Council, and I’m afraid I’ve imposed on your husband to work a little overtime tonight… Yes, ma’am. Let me put him on.” Keith handed the phone to Stewart, who took it without enthusiasm.
    Stewart listened for a full minute, then got a few words in. “No, I don’t know how late—”
    Keith said, “Figure this time tomorrow night, to be safe.”
    “Yes, dear, I—”
    Keith watched the rain out of the side window.
    Stewart said to his wife, “I’ll call you later,” and hung up, grumbling something.
    Keith said, “Everything okay?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Here’s Route 7. We take this to I-81, northbound.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Take it slow. We’ll try to make up the time later, when we get out of this weather.”
    “Yes, sir. I can’t go over the speed limit. That’s the rules.”
    “Good rules. Long day?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “I’ll drive later.”
    “It’s not allowed, General.”
    “Colonel. Sometimes I say general. For the ladies.”
    Stewart smiled for the first time.
    As they traveled slowly west on Route 7, the phone rang, and Keith took it. “Hello, Charlie.”
    “You’re still in the car?”
    “No, I’m running alongside.”
    “Stewart found you okay?”
    “Yes, I’m in the car now. That’s where you called me.”
    “You should have been in the Four Seasons by now. Where are you?”
    “Still in the car.”
    “
Where
in the fucking car.”
    “Route 7.”
    “Why? What’s wrong with the Dulles road?
    “Nothing, as far as I know.”
    There was a silence, and Keith could hear music and talking in the background. Charlie asked, “Where are you headed, Keith?”
    “You know where I’m headed.”
    “Jesus Christ, man, you can’t hijack a government car and driver—”
    “Why not? I’ve hijacked other governments’ cars and drivers. Why not my own?”
    Charlie took a deep breath and asked, “Is Stewart with you?”
    “He is. We took care of his wife, you take care of the authorization. I’ll try to get back tomorrow night. Enjoy your party or dinner or whatever. Thanks, bye—”
    “Wait. Listen, can’t you just call her and tell her you’ll be flying out of D.C. tomorrow?”
    “No. I have a morning rendezvous.”
    “Tell her to fly here in the morning.”
    “We’re eloping together.”
    “You’re being difficult, Keith.”
    “
I’m
being difficult? You shanghaied me to Washington. You knew about the hurricane.”
    “No, I didn’t. Well, it was