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operation. Maybe.
    Planes were arriving at the airport all the time; a long procession of small aircraft that were landing and being bedded down for the night or lifting off to continue to destinations unknown. Wolff watched as a particular plane appeared, first as a bright dot in the sky. It grew ever larger. Zooming in to land, it finally taxied into the hanger where he waited.
    The aircraft looked to be little more than a twelve seater. It seemed likely Jacob’s crew used it to traverse the country to carry out their operations. A good method of operation. Fly in for the kill – so to speak – and then fly straight back out again while the hapless local law enforcement agencies searched the local environ looking for the perpetrators.
    A few minutes passed and then the side door dropped down and the occupants disembarked. Wolff drew in a breath. There were five of them. Three men. Two women. They all looked to be aged in their twenties. They looked like an ordinary group of executives, dressed in expensive suits and business attire. The men looked like they could be lawyers. The women could have been their personal assistants.
    Wolff had to hand it to them; they were professionals. There was nothing about the group to suggest they were anything other than a typical group of business people travelling across the country to attend a meeting in Las Vegas.
    “I’m Anthony,” the tallest of the group introduced himself. He had a soft voice and a firm handshake. “These are my associates. Michael. John. Ramona. Elizabeth.”
    The General introduced himself.
    “Wolff,” Anthony mused. “I knew a Ferdinand Wolff at the Battle of Chickamauga. Any relation?”
    “Possibly.” Wolff reached into his pocket. “I have the address here for the operation.”
    Anthony took the piece of paper from him and read it. “We’ll do this tonight.”
    “Tonight?”
    “Is that too soon?”
    “Not at all,” Wolff said. “The sooner the better.”
    “What are the abilities of these mods?” Anthony asked.
    Wolff described them.
    “Good,” Anthony said. “It doesn’t sound like anything we can’t handle.”
     

 
    Chapter Eight
    I opened my eyes to darkness.
    For a few confusing seconds I thought I was still asleep. I had been dreaming about wheat fields. The same dream had been returning night after night for months. I was in a wheat field walking towards a farmhouse in the distance. A boy was sitting on the front steps. As I drew closer he stood and started towards me. His face blurred. The dream ended and I awoke. I found myself staring up at the ceiling in the darkness.
    My eyes shifted to the digital clock next to my bed.
    3.14am
    Great. I lay in the bed and listened to the silence. I knew the sounds of the desert. The wind sweeping over the hills. A piece of metal that rattled on the porch. Tonight there seemed to be none of that.
    Still, I could hear something. A crackling sound.
    Climbing out of bed, I threw some clothes on and wandered down the passageway. A light was on in Brodie’s room down the hall. Her door was open. Brodie appeared in the doorway.
    “Do you hear that?” she asked quietly.
    “What is it?”
    “Sounds like a fire.”
    “Out here?”
    Another light snapped on down the hall. Chad blearily appeared with his hair askew. He never looked his best first thing in the morning. He looked even worse now.
    “Whassgoingon?” he asked. “Whassthenoise?”
    “We’re not sure,” Brodie said. “Sounds like a fire.”
    Chad mumbled something and disappeared back into his room. I wasn’t sure what that meant, so we continued onto the porch. The night was dark, but the glow of Las Vegas still illuminated the night sky. Other nearby towns also bleached their glow into the sky.
    “What’s that over there?” Brodie asked.
    Another glow lay between nearby hills. I had never seen it before. We started across the desert. After a few moments, Brodie grabbed my arm.
    “Wouldn’t it be faster if we flew?”