At the same time that Sam was picking up Camille in St. Louis, Tommy's train was rolling into Union Station in Washington. He still had no clear idea how he might contact Maxine, but the train ride gave him some time to think. His life would have been easier if her current number and home address were listed somewhere. Save for official notices, there scarcely was a trace of her on the Internet.

He thought at first about merely calling her office and scheduling an appointment.

That option hit the round file immediately. There was no telling what sort of reception committee might be awaiting him in such an event. He wasn't worried about being abducted. He easily could extricate himself from whatever custody the government might attempt to force upon him. That was his worry. Tommy had never confided in Maxine, or anyone in the government, the true extent of his Gifts. For all she knew, his Gifts were limited to his appearance, heightened senses, and an aptitude with languages. But there was no need hurting anyone who naively thought they could subdue him.

Second, why not just show up at her office unannounced?

That was a weak option for much the same reason. He liked and trusted the Maxine of 30 years before, but hadn't seen her since. It was anybody's guess what his unexpected appearance might trigger. Still, a sudden visit might be less obtrusive, and he could be in and out quickly enough that no one would be able to get any silly ideas into their heads. That option went on the back burner.

The path he finally hit on was simple.

Maxine once had made a daily routine of walking down to a marina near her Pentagon office for lunch. His online search of her indicated her current office was in that same area. He had one of his feelings; she would be there today. But, one way or the other, he wouldn't leave the capital without seeing Maxine, even if it meant following her home after work.

As he left the train station, he checked the time. There were about two and a half hours to kill before lunchtime, so he decided to play tourist as he made his way to his destination. He went by the White House and snapped a couple of pictures. They would be a pleasant surprise for Rhonda when she awoke. Afterward he walked the Mall, past the Viet Nam War and Korean War memorials, and ended up at the Lincoln Memorial. That building's bulk and its beautiful inscription had an incredible effect on him. The Gettysburg Address was as powerful now as it had been on the day that he'd first read it in the newspaper those many years past. There were very few great historical events that he'd witnessed personally. That speech was one of the few he wished he had.

At about 11:00, he hitched a cab to his destination and found an open bench with an advantageous view. The park was nice, and the sun was near perfect. Tommy was a sucker for such days. After another 30 minutes, he got up to walk about and almost immediately saw a familiar figure on a bench up ahead.

"Maxine, how are you?" he said when he got within easy earshot. It was good to see her. She'd hardly changed. A touch less weight, a few more wrinkles, but mostly she was the same woman he'd known in the 80s.

"Oh, my God," she sputtered, spilling her tea on the bench. "Oh, Jesus. Oh, Jesus."

"No, Kyle," he said, smiling even more broadly. Kyle Wigand was the name by which she knew him of old. "Are you going to invite me to sit?"

"Yes, oh, God, Jesus, Kyle, yes."

He sat and looked her in the eye.

"You have not aged a day," she said aloud, and then more quietly once she remembered herself, "You look exactly the same."

Tommy was happy for the fact. Sometimes when people went a great deal of time without seeing him, their recollection of him somehow faded, and they had to start all over again with seeing a stranger. But Maxine had always had a crush on him. Perhaps that fact etched him in her mind.

"You look lovely," he said. Maxine had a pretty, girlish look when younger and had aged well.

She suddenly became self-conscious, though, and her hands flew to her face and hair. "Oh, look at me. I look like an old woman. I'm an aunt now, you know. Even my nieces and nephews have kids."

"You never married?"

"No," she replied. "Married to my work. You know how it is."

"I always thought you and Elliot ...."

She raised a hand to cut him off. "Oh, talk about being married to his work. No. It was never in the cards with me and him. Though we did spend as much time together as most married couples. I miss him."

He gave her a concerned look. "When?"

"On 9/11."

"He was in the wing that was hit?" Tommy had watched the newspapers diligently after the attack, worrying he might see a name he knew.

"Oh, heavens no," she laughed. "He was on the opposite side of the Pentagon. Like a lot of others, he rushed to help. The guy was so sweet ... and brave in his own way. He ran a hundred yards and dropped dead of a heart attack."

"I am so, so sorry. But he did like his donuts."

She laughed. "One good thing came from that. I started exercising and eating better. Taking a walk at lunch is nice. I go to the gym now, too." She reached out and touched his knee. "And you have a good memory. I still take my lunches here almost every day."

Suddenly her eyes became wet, and she seemed out of breath. "Kyle, I can't tell you anything," she said in a voice now thick with emotion.

"And, yet, you know why I'm here. A friend of mine is missing. Others are missing."

"Things changed after '91. This whole goddamn city went crazy," she said with a catch in her voice. "It hasn't stopped."

Tommy recognized those words, the selfsame words uttered by Camille.

Maxine changed the topic abruptly. "That was you in New York on that day, wasn't it? I had no idea you could do those kinds of things. But I saw some of the videos. There was that one figure who looked all fuzzy on camera."

Tommy smiled and looked at her with all the affection he'd felt for her those years past. She told them about me, he realized. He wasn't sure what it was. There was something about Maxine's words? The way she looked at him? The sudden strain he'd caught in her voice?

Everything he'd done for Maxine and Elliot those years ago had been unofficial, off the record. The two had sworn to keep his participation, and his existence, secret. But Tommy now knew Maxine had spilled everything she knew about him to her bosses at the Pentagon—and to who knows who else.

He forgave her on the spot. Everyone went crazy on that day.

But he grew serious and turned again to the subject for which he'd come. "I'm not going to let these people disappear my friends," he said. "This isn't a banana republic."

"Kyle, there is so, so, so much money and political weight behind this." Her voice, still low, trembled, as if from fright.

"Where are they taking my friends? What are they doing with them?"

"I don't know," she said, shame and fear in her voice. Her words were barely above a whisper.

He believed her.

She leaned in and placed her head on his chest. Coiling her wrists around his neck, she squeezed.

"I wish I knew." She seemed for a time to gather her strength. Finally, pulling him even closer, she whispered, "Look at Hollirich. They have a former vice-president on their board of directors, for chrissake. She's the mover and shaker in this city right now. I don't know anything for certain. But I'd start there."

"Okay," he said, smiling at her. "That's more than I had before. Thank you."

"Kyle, I'm ...."

"It's okay," he cut her off gently. He knew she was about to confess to having outed him. He didn't care. "Everyone went crazy on that day. I know you did what you thought was right at the time."

The geyser of tears that erupted from her eyes dried almost as soon as they'd begun.

"Don't you feel better, now?" he asked.

"Yeah, I do actually. How'd you know?"

"I just did," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

She boxed him lightly on the bicep with a balled-up fist. "You and your fucking shoulder shrugs." She laughed. "Are we still friends?"

"Of course, we are. Friends who see each other in the park once every 30 years." They both laughed. Then he put his arms around her and returned her embrace.

They spent some time talking and catching up. There was no further talk of the conspiracy. Tommy was convinced that Max knew little of the subject, but the woman was clever and savvy about the world. She'd given him a solid nugget. The tidbit about Hollirich, a major defense contractor, seemed small, but it no doubt would lead them in the right direction.

After nearly an hour, the two old friends prepared to depart.

"Max, tell your bosses what you need to about meeting me today, but you do not want to be close to me from here on out. I don't know what's coming next, but it won't be good, and it won't be pretty. I'm not gonna let my friends be murdered or caged like animals."

She looked up at him with affection. No. It was something else. "Let me worry about my bosses. I'm within two years of retirement, so they can pucker up and kiss my ass." She got up to leave. "I'm still in that same old house in Alexandria. It's part of a family trust now, for my nieces and nephews after I die, but it's home till then. Come there any time you need anything."

He stood and took her hand. "I will."

"I wish I could help more," she said. "And I do hope I see you again. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Max."

The two embraced again, briefly, and departed.