The 4400® Promises Broken by David Mack

news,” Wells began, “is that the crisis with Jordan Collier has the U.S. government and its military focused on Promise City.” Casting a grim look at the map, he added, “But I’m still concerned that you’ll be too exposed, for too long. Flying would be faster.”
    “Absolutely not,” Jakes said. Icy wind threatened to steal the map, which snapped and rustled under his and Wells’shands. “Air traffic in this part of Nevada is much too closely monitored for us to risk that. I wouldn’t make it more than two hundred kilometers before getting shot down.”
    Wells frowned. “Then what about a less direct driving route? Something that keeps you off the major highways?”
    “You’re being paranoid,” Jakes said. “As long as I obey the speed limit and rules of the road, there won’t be a problem.”
    “Don’t be so sure,” Wells replied. “You borrowed that body of yours months ago. Someone must have noticed by now that he’s missing.”
    “Noticing that he’s missing and actively looking for him are two very different things,” Jakes said.
    Cocking his head to one side, Wells replied, “Be that as it may, the less you’re seen, the better.” He traced Jakes’s planned driving route with his fingertip. “This is more than twelve hundred kilometers of open road.”
    “One thousand, two hundred ninety-three, to be precise,” Jakes interjected, drawing a disapproving sidelong stare from Wells. He pressed on, “At most, we’re talking about fourteen hours of driving from here to the target. Under the circumstances, that’s hardly a prolonged window of risk. And traffic on main roads moves with relative freedom.”
    “Fine,” said Wells, conceding the debate. “It’s just after two o’clock now. Fourteen hours on the road would make your ETA to target roughly four P.M. Pacific?”
    “Yes, that sounds about right.” A gust of brisk night air tossed Jakes’s short brown hair into a frenzy. “You andKuroda need to be well away from here—preferably in the air and headed west—before I trigger the warhead.”
    Nodding, Wells said, “It’s taken care of. We’ll catch a flight to Tokyo out of McCarran at seven A.M. Once we get to Japan, we’ll find new bodies and go to ground.” A diabolical smile lit up his face. “When do you think Ryland will figure out that we’ve screwed him?”
    “About an hour after the world ends,” Jakes said, then chortled as he slapped his compatriot’s back.
    Wells folded up the map and handed it to Jakes, who nodded his thanks and tucked it inside his jacket.
    The hiss and hum of activity behind the van ceased. Kuroda emerged and flipped up her visor. “All set,” she said, pushing shut the SUV’s hatchback with a dull thud. “Try not to hit any bumps, okay?”
    “I’ll do my best,” Jakes said, hoping that the once-Asian woman now living in the body of a blonde was only joking. He opened the driver’s door and started to get in, but paused as Wells offered him his hand. He reached over and shook it.
    “Thank you,” Wells said. “I don’t know that I could go through with it, if I were in your place.”
    “Sure you could,” Jakes said, certain that it was true. “It’s just my turn, that’s all.”
    Kuroda stripped off her work gloves and shook Jakes’s hand, as well. “If you’re having second thoughts, we could trade—”
    “No, I wouldn’t dream of it,” he cut in. “Besides, only you can use your airline tickets. The decision’s made. Time to go.”
    He let go of her hand and eased himself into the vehicle’s driver’s seat. His two colleagues stepped back as he shut the door and keyed the ignition.
    The engine turned over with a low purr of combustion. In the truck’s rearview mirror, he saw a cloud of gray vapor rise from its exhaust pipe and dissipate into the night.
    For a moment, he felt a twinge of hesitation. Then he recalled that this was exactly what he had volunteered for. It was for a mission such as this that