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"Split the difference. Noon tomorrow."
"That's not a split... but okay."
Andrea was once more conflicted. Part of her was fascinated by the process of the search. She'd learned a lot already. On the other hand, watching two boys playing soldier or spy or something with such enthusiasm was rather boring. It wasn't her sort of picture at all. She tended to tune out, but found herself coming back to the problem and the discussion, wondering if she could contribute.
"Before we set it all in motion, we need to prepare rules of engagement," Warburton said.
"There should be an armed man with every team. They may have guns."
"Don't be ridiculous, dear. Susan wouldn't use a gun." "Better safe than sorry," Howard insisted. "But I don't want any shooting unless someone is shot at first. No shooting at all if it could endanger Fuzzy."
"Don't worry, Andrea. I don't want to hurt them. Not that way, anyway."
Andrea knew that was the best she could get. She could talk him out of taking his revenge later.
HELICOPTERS fa
A visual inspection was the first step for vehicles on the road. They had a plate number, but most of Howard's advisors expected that to have been changed by now. They ignored the tow vehicle; that could have been changed, too. They were looking, first, for a beige forty-foot 2008 Wilderness fifth wheel with a broad red curving swoosh painted on the side, a fashionable design style for that vintage RV. It had been 3-D computer-modeled from the security videos of its comings and goings at Fuzzyland. There was a three-foot-long dimple on the left side from where Susan had turned too sharply coming home one night and scraped it against a tree. That dimple was still there on the video from just hours ago.
With this information a helicopter could hover over the parking lot of a big shopping center and send pictures back to computers that could pick such a trailer out of thousands of vehicles in seconds. Then the chopper could move in and examine it with infrared.
There were a million holes in the plan, and Howard and Warburton knew it. There were covered parking garages, but very few high enough to admit an RV. As well as switching tow vehicles, they might have switched trailers. A big horse trailer would do fine, so they were being examined, too, and there were thousands of horse trailers out there on the country roads. But a horse in a trailer gave off a very different infrared signature from a mammoth, and they could be quickly eliminated.
Both Susan's and Matt's bank records had been scrutinized and showed that Susan had bought only one RV in her lifetime, and Matt had bought none. Howard didn't know if they had pla
Still, as the hours rolled by he knew his prospects were getting grim. It was just so damn much territory, and if he was guessing wrong about any of the variables he was screwed. All she had to do to beat him was to sit tight in a well-covered place... and wait to be picked up by the police. He was feeling more depressed than at any time he could remember as the reports kept coming in. Twenty-three similar trailers had been located so far and examined more closely, and they'd come up empty. He had to wait for night.
"So, have you figured out where she's going yet?" she asked.
"Hell, no. It's a big country." Howard took a bite of the fancy sandwich and wished he could
have ordered out for a Big Mac. "Damn right it is, and that means you're just wasting a lot of money and letting them get farther
away, which the police won't appreciate when you are finally forced to call them in."
"Is that what you're saying? Call them in now?"
"No, my dear. I'm saying, let's narrow the search."
"How do you propose to do that?"
"By thinking like Susan. Why did she steal Fuzzy?"
Howard snorted. "Because she objects to him performing like—what was it she said last time
we had it out over this?—'a trained seal.' As if she hasn't spent all her life making wild animals perform—"
"Never mind that. She's obviously had a change of heart."
"Unless she just wants to poke me in the eye," Howard said sullenly.
"No, dear, that's your style, not hers."
Howard said nothing. She was right. He was working on it, but knew he'd never entirely get his thirst for revenge under control. That's what they were doing here in the first place, instead of staying back home tending to things he could really do something about.
"What does she want for Fuzzy?" Andrea went on.
"She wants him to roam free and natural and not be 'exploited.' " He couldn't keep the sneer out
of his voice.
"Where can she find that for him?"
"Nowhere. Not as long as I own him. Damn it, I don't treat that animal badly. He works twice a
day, he is the most pampered animal in the world, he is happy—he seems happy to you, doesn't—"
"Yes, I think he's happy. Susan thinks it'd be better if he were in a wild animal park of some kind. She wants him out in the open air. She wants him to browse his own grass and eat leaves off wild trees." "Impossible. That nut shot at him."
"So what's your point?"
"You think Susan is stupid enough to go through all this merely to move him from one prison to another? With a smaller jail cell when he gets there?"
"You're going to make me ask the question, aren't you? Okay, where is she taking him?"
"Canada."
Howard laughed. Actually it was more of a snort. Andrea didn't mind.
"Right. With her other troubles, she needs to cross an international border."
"The longest undefended international border in the world. Large parts of it, mostly in Washington and Idaho and Montana, are thickly wooded, sparsely inhabited wilderness, not very well patrolled."
Howard was begi
"But when she's there... she's got the same problem. Hide him, or lose him."
"Not necessarily. Circus animal acts are illegal in Canada now. Have been for... how many years?"
"Eight or nine, I guess," Howard said, grumpily. It was a sore point with him. There were no longer circuses in most of Western Europe, and a growing but still minority movement wanted to ban animal acts and rodeos in the United States. He had wanted to take Fuzzy on a triumphant world tour, but it was never going to happen. There were plans for an Asian tour. People were still less fussy over there. The Japanese, with their cultural quirk for cuteness, were wild about Fuzzy; he sold more big-eyed Fuzzy soft toys there than anywhere in the world. In China Big Mama was the star, for some reason. Russia felt a cultural identification with mammoths. The huge majority of the frozen ones had been found in Siberia, and there were places where ancient mammoth bones piled up like driftwood. Russians were gaga about both of Howard's mammoths.