Khalil then went to an open safe sitting between two of the viewing screens. Inside, he found a stack of computer disks, which he put into his black bag, then extracted the disk from the computer that Paul Grey had been using. He said, "Thank you, Mr. Grey, for the demonstration. But war is not a video game in my country."

He looked around the room and found Paul Grey's appointment book on his desk. It was opened to that day, and the notation said, "Col. H.-9:30." He flipped to April 15 and read, "Conf. call-Squadron-A.M." He closed the appointment book and left it on the desk. Let the police wonder who this Colonel H. is, and let them think this mysterious colonel stole some military secrets from his victim.

Asad Khalil flipped through the Rolodex and extracted the cards for the remaining squadron members-Callum, McCoy, Satherwaite, and Wiggins. On each card were addresses, telephone numbers, and notations about wives and children.

Khalil also took the card of General Terrance and Mrs. Gail Waycliff, formerly of Washington, D.C., now residing in hell.

He also found the card for Steven Cox, and saw that it was marked in red letters, K.I.A., which he knew to mean killed in action. There was on the card the name of a woman, "Linda," and the notation "Remarried Charles Dwyer," followed by an address and telephone number.

The card for William Hambrecht had an address in England that was crossed out and replaced by an address in a place called Ann Arbor, Michigan, and the notation "Dec'd," followed by the date that Khalil had killed him. There was another woman's name, "Rose," and the names of two more females and a male with the word "Children."

Asad Khalil put all the cards in his pocket, thinking he could make use of this information someday. He was pleased that Paul Grey was such a meticulous record keeper.

Asad Khalil put his plastic bottle under his arm and held his pistol in his other hand. He slung his black bag over his shoulder and opened the sliding door. He could hear a vacuum cleaner running somewhere. He closed the door and followed the sound.

He found the cleaning woman in the living room, her back to him, and she did not hear him as he stepped up behind her. The vacuum cleaner was very loud, and there was also music playing somewhere, so he didn't bother with the plastic bottle, but simply put the pistol close to the back of her neck as she pushed and pulled the vacuum cleaner. He now heard that she was singing as she worked. He pulled the trigger, and she stumbled forward, then fell on the carpet beside the overturned vacuum cleaner.

Khalil put the Glock in his pocket, placed the bottle in his bag, righted the vacuum cleaner but left it running, and recovered the shell casing. He found his way to the kitchen, then out the back door.

He put on his sunglasses and retraced his route past the swimming pool, out of the screened enclosure, down the shrub-constricted path to the open area of the hangar. He noticed that the aircraft he'd arrived in was now pointing back to the taxiway.

He did not see his pilot and went quickly to the hangar. He looked inside, but did not see her there, then heard talking coming from the loft overhead.

He went toward the staircase, then realized the talking was coming from a television or radio. He had forgotten the woman's name, so he called up, "Hello! Hello!"

The talking stopped, and Stacy Moll leaned over the half wall of the loft and looked down. "All done?"

"All done."

"Be right down." She disappeared, then reappeared on the staircase and came down to the hangar floor. She said, "Ready to roll?"

"Yes. Ready."

She walked out of the hangar, and he followed. She said, "You can eat off the floor in that hangar. This guy is an anal retentive. Maybe he's gay. You think he's gay?"

"Excuse me?"

"Never mind." She walked to the passenger side of the Piper, and he followed. She asked, "Did he buy the vases?"

"Yes, he did."

"Great. Hey, I wanted to see them. He buy them all?"

"Yes, he did."

"Too bad. I mean, good for you. You get your price?"

"I did."

"Great." She scrambled up on the wing and reached down for his bag, which Khalil handed her. She said, "Doesn't feel much lighter."

"He gave me some bottles of water for the trip back."

She opened the side door and put the bag in the rear and said, "I hope he gave you cash, too."

"Of course."

She got into the aircraft, then slid across to the left seat. Khalil followed her, sat in the right seat of the small cockpit, then buckled himself in. Even with the door still open, it was very hot in the cockpit, and Khalil felt sweat forming on his face.

She started the engine, taxied off the apron, and turned right on the taxiway. She put the headset on and motioned for Khalil to do the same.

He didn't want to listen to this woman any longer, but he did as she instructed. Her voice came through the earphones and she said, "I took a Coke and put a buck in the fridge. You tell him?"

"I did."

"Protocol. You understand? Lots of protocol in the flying game. You can borrow what you need without asking, but you have to leave a note. You can take a beer or a Coke, but you have to leave a buck. What does this guy Grey do for a living?"

"Nothing."

"Where'd he get his money?"

"It is not my business to ask."

"Yeah. Me neither."

They continued taxiing out to the airfield, and when they reached it, Stacy Moll glanced up at the wind sock, then taxied to the end of Runway Twenty-three. She then reached across Asad Khalil and closed and locked the door.

She made a broadcast to other aircraft, visually checked the skies around her, then ran up the engine. She released the brake, and they rolled down the runway.

The Piper lifted off and at five hundred feet, she began to turn to the north, back toward Craig Municipal Airport in Jacksonville.

They stayed low for the first few minutes, then resumed a climb. The Piper settled into a cruise altitude of thirty-five hundred feet at one hundred forty knots. Stacy Moll said, "Flight time to Craig, thirty-eight more minutes."

Khalil didn't reply.

They flew on in silence awhile, then she asked, "Where you headed after this?"

"I have an early afternoon flight to Washington, then back to Athens."

"You came all the way here just for this?"

"Yes."

"Jeez. I hope it was worth it."

"It was."

"Maybe I should get into the Greek vase business."

"There is some risk involved."

"Yeah? Oh, like-like, these vases aren't supposed to leave your country."

"It's best if you discussed this flight with no one. I have said too much already."

"Mum's the word."

"Excuse me?"

"My lips are sealed."

"Yes. Good. I will be back in a week. I would like to engage your services once again."

"No problem. Next time, stay awhile, and we can have a drink."

"That would be pleasant."

They flew in silence for the next ten minutes, then she said, "Next time, just call from the airport, and someone will pick you up. You don't have to take a taxi."

"Thank you."

"In fact, if you want, I can drive you back to the airport."

"That's very kind of you."

"No problem." She said, "Just fax or call a day or two before you come, and I'll be sure I'm available. Or make the reservation when we get back to the office."

"I will do that."

"Good. Here's my card." She took a card out of her breast pocket and gave it to him.

She made conversation with her passenger as they flew, and he made appropriate responses.

As they began their descent, he asked her, "Did you make contact with your friend at Spruce Creek?"

"Well… I thought about calling him and telling him I was a couple of blocks away… but then I said to myself, Screw him. He doesn't deserve a call. Someday, I'll fly in low and drop a live alligator in his pool." She laughed. "I know a guy who did that once to his ex-girlfriend, but the gator hit the roof and died on impact. Waste of a good gator."