John, how are we going to meet Rufus with the FBI right behind us? Sara said.

Im meeting Rufus, youre not.

Wait a minute

Sara

I want to see this through.

Believe me, you will. You have to make a phone call for me, to my friend at the JAG.

What about? And you still havent told me what you think happened in that stockade twenty-five years ago.

He put one hand on top of hers. U.S. v. Stanley. An innocent soldier and LSD, Fiske said, watching her eyes go wide. Only worse, he added. *����*����* After making a quick stop at Saras home, they drove to National Airport and parked. Fiske tugged the trench coat around him and pulled his hat down tightly over his head as the rain began to fall harder. He opened a big umbrella and covered Sara with it. They went to the general aviation terminal, and then out the other side to the boarding area, where they climbed in a sedan with tinted windows. A couple minutes later the car pulled away from the curb. Behind them were two FBI agents, one of whom was already communicating this development to his superiors. Then he went over to the service counter to determine the destination of the flight Fiske and Sara were about to get on. The other agent went out and watched as the sedan pulled up to the private jet. Inside the sedan, Fiske and the driver, Chuck Hermans copilot, were busy switching places. The driver put on the trench coat and hat. From a distance he would look like Fiske. Their plan was to have Sara stay on the plane for an hour, during which time she would attempt to contact Fiskes JAG friend, Phil Jansen. Then she would leave. They knew the FBI would question her about Fiskes disappearance, but they would have no grounds to detain her. The FBI agent watched as a thin, white-haired man came down the steps from the plane and greeted Sara and the man whom he assumed was Fiske as they climbed out of the car. The group went up the steps and into the plane. The sedan pulled away. The FBI agent kept his eyes on the plane as the sedan passed by him and continued on to the main road leading out of the terminal. Driving the sedan, Fiske let out a deep breath as he pulled onto the George Washington Parkway. Within ten minutes he was headed south on Interstate 95 toward Richmond. Traffic was heavy; it was almost three hours before he pulled the car up to his office building. He had already checked in with Billy Hawkins. Josh Harms was in surgery at MCV. It didnt look good, Hawkins had told him. Fiske parked the car and went around to the offices rear entrance, just in case. He made his way to the lower level and approached the supply room. Please be there, he urged Rufus. He tapped on the door. Rufus? he said quietly. Its John Fiske.

Rufus cautiously opened the door.

Lets get out of here.

Rufus gripped his arm. Hows Josh?

Hes in surgery. All you can do is pray.

Thats all I been doing.

They went out the rear entrance, walked quickly to Fiskes car and climbed in.

Where we going? Rufus said.

You want to tell me about the letter from the Army?

What about it?

They wanted to follow up on the phencyclidine testing, right?

Harms stiffened. Phen-what?

You know, PCP.

How did you know about that?

Same thing happened to another guy in the Army named Stanley, who was in a bogus program. They used LSD on him.

I wasnt in no damn PCP program, even if they said I was. He pulled out the letter and gave it to Fiske. Fiske took a moment to read it and then looked at him. Tell me about it, Rufus.

Harms sat back as much as he could. He was so large that his knees touched the dash and his head brushed the cars ceiling. Theyd been out to get me for a while. Tremaine and Rayfield.

And Dellasandro? Corporal Leo Dellasandro?

Yeah, him too. I guess they didnt take too kindly to me sitting nice and snug in the States, even if it was in the stockade.

They didnt know about your dyslexia?

You seem to know a damn lot.

Go on.

Id had plenty of run-ins with that group before. Tremaine got thrown in the stockade with me one night for drinking. He told me real directly what he thought about me. I guess they planned this thing out. They came in the stockade one night. Leo had a gun. They made me close my eyes, get on the floor. The next thing I knew, they stuck something in me. I opened my eyes and saw the needle coming out of my arm. They all stood there laughing, waiting for me to die. I could tell from what they said, that was their plan. OD me on the stuff.

How the hell did you go from getting shot up with PCP to escaping from the stockade?

My whole body seemed to swell up like somebody was pumping air in me. I remember getting up and it felt like the room wasnt big enough to hold me. I tossed em all aside like they were made of straw. They had left the door unlocked. The guard on duty came running up, but I hit him like a truck and then I was running free. His breathing had accelerated, his huge hands clasping and unclasping, as though reliving what he had done with them so long ago.

And you ran into Ruth Ann Mosley?

She was there visiting her brother. Rufus slammed his fist down onto the dash. If only God had struck me down before I got to that little girl. Whyd it have to be a child? Why? Tears streamed down the mans face.

It wasnt your fault, Rufus. PCP can make you do anything, anything. It wasnt your fault.

In answer Rufus held up his hands and bellowed, These did it. No matter what shit they put in me, aint nothing gonna change the fact that I killed that beautiful little girl. Aint nothing on this earth gonna make that go away. Is it? Is it? Rufuss eyes blazed at Fiske, but then he closed them and slumped back, as though lifeless. Fiske tried to keep calm. And you remembered nothing, until you got the letter?

Finally Rufus came around. Hell, all those years the only thing I remembered from that night was sitting in the stockade reading the Bible my momma give me. The next thing I knew Im next to this dead little girl. Thats all. He wiped the tears away with his sleeve.

PCP can do that too. Screw with your memory. Probably the shock of it all too.

Rufus took a heavy breath. Sometimes I think that craps still in me.

But you pleaded guilty to the murder anyway?

There was a bunch of witnesses. Samuel Rider said if I didnt take the deal, theyd convict me and then theyd execute me. What the hell else was I supposed to do?

Fiske thought about that for a moment and then said quietly, I guess I wouldve done the same thing.

But when I got that letter, it was like somebody turned this big light on inside my head, and some part of my brain that had been all dark got real bright and everything came back to me. Every damn little bit.

And so you wrote the letter to the Court and asked Rider to file it for you?

Rufus nodded. And then your brother came to see me. Said he believed in justice, wanted to help me if I was telling the truth. He was a good man.

Yes, he was, Fiske said hoarsely.

The thing was, he had brought my letter with him. Rayfield and old Vic werent going to let him go. No way. I went crazy when I found out. They took me to the infirmary, tried to kill me there. I got to the hospital and Josh busted me out.

You said Tremaine and Rayfield are dead.

Rufus nodded. He took another deep breath, watched the rain falling over the darkened Richmond skyline and then looked over at Fiske. Now you know everything I know. So what are we going to do?

Im not sure, was all Fiske could manage to say. ["C57"]CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

An hour after Fiske had driven off, Chuck Herman smiled as he passed Sara in the plane aisle. This is the only time Ive ever been paidnotto fly.

This is Washington, Chuck. They pay farmers not to grow crops too, Sara said dryly. She picked up the cell phone for the tenth time and dialed Phil Jansens home number. His office had already told Sara that Jansen had left for the day. Luckily, Fiske had given her Jansens home number too. She was relieved when Jansen finally answered. She quickly introduced herself and explained her connection to Fiske.