The Ilium Obligation (A Matt Savage Adventure) Chapter 28

[seymoure]

Lost in Washington

 

“Man has a limited biological capacity for change.”
-Alvin Toffler

                                                

I would have booked the overseas flight while we were still at the airport, but I didn’t want to jump the gun on the job in D.C.

It was hard to remember to put my mind back into the search for the missing scientists when there was a juicy murder investigation waiting for me in England. I understand just how off-base that sounds, and it isn’t much like me, but when you are in the air, totally devoid of contact with the world as we know it, there is an ease in that connection. We have all read so many murder mysteries that that has a familiar gravitas, while the kind of missing person story we were facing had almost nothing as a milestone. The fact that they were also the only tie to the Trojan Horse was frustrating and untenable. 

Hugo picked up the rental car while I got our few bags. He was so proud; we had gotten a Lincoln Town car. He had never driven something with so many features. He insisted that we had to stop somewhere and buy some 8-track tapes to hear just how great the stereo was, but the FM would have to do for now.

If I had anticipated the traffic, I might have had both of us get motorcycles instead of this moving parade float. The cars were not stopped like in New York, but were creeping like a river of lava circling every monument and park.

Protesters with signs seemed to be everywhere. I was suddenly reminded that the country was in the process of tearing itself apart over the Viet Nam war. When you are forced to look through the microscope to deal with an investigation one tends to forget that the big picture is so cataclysmic that people would be aghast that you could, for an instant, forget the world’s problems.  But that is the cost (some say a reward) of my career. Maybe that was one of the reasons that, when I was awarded $20 million dollars at the end of my last case, I chose to remain in the same profession. I tend to get far too emotionally invested in things I cannot have any chance of changing. In my business, at least, I dictate what is going to be the outcome.

After a millennium of circling and slogging through the nation’s Capitol, we made it to our hotel.

When we pulled up in front of the Jefferson Hotel, they directed us to the parking garage. Once in the structure, two men unloaded our baggage and took it to our room as we signed in.

We turned from the clerk’s desk after getting the keys to find Connie Cho waiting for us.

I have rarely been as taken aback by someone’s simple loveliness as in that Washington lobby. Connie was tiny, not just to Hugo and I, but to a normal person. She was possibly 4’11” and weighed about the same as a sack of flour. Her eyes were of a color that I have never seen before, and her hair was jet black.

She informed us that she didn’t want to impose on us, but to let us know that she was available to aid in the investigation in any way possible. The N.S.A. had given her leave to be our liaison. It was an example of just how concerned they were with Dr. Fox, a valued employee and friend.

We thanked her, took her number and went to the elevator. Neither of us spoke as we rode the lift to the 10^th floor.

We had a suite so that we could each have a bedroom. It was as opulent as any place I have ever been. It had a bar, color TV and a phone in every room.

For one of the few times I could recall I felt really rich.

That was something that would not last.

© C. Wayne Owens
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