The Eyes of Darkness

finish with the night manager at the Flagstaff airport, Kennebeck moved from one model ship to another. For the first time in his experience, the sight of this bottled fleet didn't calm him.
    Fifteen minutes later Alexander put down the telephone. "Stryker isn't on the Flagstaff field. And he hasn't yet been identified in their airspace."
    "Ah. So his flight plan was a red herring."
    "Unless he crashed between here and there," Alexander said hopefully.
    Kennebeck grinned. "He didn't crash. But where the hell did he go?"
    "Probably in the opposite direction," Alexander said. "Southern California."
    "Ah. Los Angeles?"
    "Or Santa Barbara. Burbank. Long Beach. Ontario. Orange County. There are a lot of airports within the range of that little Cessna."
    They were both silent, thinking. Then Kennebeck said, "Reno. That's where they went. Reno."
    "You were so sure they didn't know a thing about the Sierra labs," Alexander said. "Have you changed your mind?"
    "No. I still think you could have avoided issuing all those termination orders. Look, they can't be going up to the mountains, because they don't know where the laboratories are. They don't know anything more about Project Pandora than what they picked up from that list of questions they took off Vince Immelman."
    "Then why Reno?"
    Pacing, Kennebeck said, "Now that we've tried to kill them, they know the story of the Sierra accident was entirely contrived. They figure there's something wrong with the little boy's body, something odd that we can't afford to let them see. So now they're twice as anxious to see it. They'd exhume it illegally if they could, but they can't get near the cemetery with us watching it. And Stryker knows for sure that we've got it staked out. So if they can't open the grave and see for themselves what we've done to Danny Evans, what are they going to do instead? They're going to do the next best thing—talk to the person who was supposedly the last one to see the boy's corpse before it was sealed in the coffin. They're going to ask him to describe the condition of the boy in minute detail."
    "Richard Pannafin is the coroner in Reno. He issued the death certificate," Alexander said.
    "No. They won't go to Pannafin. They'll figure he's involved in the cover-up."
    "Which he is. Reluctantly."
    "So they'll go to see the mortician who supposedly prepared the boy's body for burial."
    "Bellicosti."
    "Was that his name?"
    "Luciano Bellicosti," Alexander said. "But if that's where they went, then they're not just hiding out, licking their wounds. Good God, they've actually gone on the offensive!"
    "That's Stryker's military-intelligence training taking hold," Kennebeck said. "That's what I've been trying to tell you. He's not going to be an easy target. He could destroy the Network, given half a chance. And the woman's evidently not one to hide or run away from a problem either. We have to go after these two with more care than usual. What about this Bellicosti? Will he keep his mouth shut?"
    "I don't know," Alexander said uneasily. "We have a pretty good hold on him. He's an Italian immigrant. He lived here for eight or nine years before he decided to apply for citizenship. He hadn't gotten his papers yet when we found ourselves needing a cooperative mortician. We put a freeze on his application with the Bureau of Immigration, and we threatened to have him deported if he didn't do what we wanted. He didn't like it. But citizenship was a big enough carrot to keep him motivated. However . . . I don't think we'd better rely on that carrot any longer."
    "This is a hell of an important matter," Kennebeck said. "And it sounds to me as if Bellicosti knows too much about it."
    "Terminate the bastard," Alexander said.
    "Eventually, but not necessarily right now. If too many bodies pile up at once, we'll be drawing attention to—"
    "Take no chances," Alexander insisted. "We'll terminate him. And the coroner too, I think. Scrub away the whole trail." He reached for the phone.
    "Surely you don't want to take such drastic action until you're positive Stryker actually is headed for Reno. And you won't know for sure until he lands up there."
    Alexander hesitated with his hand on the phone. "But if I wait, I'm just giving him a chance to keep one step ahead." Worried, he continued to hesitate, anxiously chewing his lip.
    "There's a way to find out if it's really Reno he's headed for. When he gets there, he'll need a car. Maybe he's already arranged for one to be