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coyotes who abandoned the illegals near Brownsville. |
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But it was now the first of December. Rain froze on the windowpanes, like his hopes. If someone in authority did not appear soon, Soyuz would change the world. |
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Avery Peters swung into the seat next to Anna Neville on the ride from National Airport to the White House. Across the aisle, Morgan stared moodily out of the window at the dark, wet countryside. Joe Ryerson sat in the rear of the van, flanked by two granitefaced air force police. His tape recorder and notes had been confiscated. Ryerson was silent now, after his first protests. He was saving his breath, planning his legal challenges. |
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Anna Neville was uncomfortable to find herself the object of Ave's scrutiny. ''Is something wrong, Mr. Peters?" she asked. |
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Ave's weatherbeaten face broke into a mirthless smile. "I'd say so, Mrs. Neville. There usually is when people like me and like you find ourselves going in the same direction." |
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Anna turned to face him. She and her friends had always regarded the Avery Peterses of this life, if they thought about them at all, as men who lived outside the pale of civility. They were capable of breaking any law, committing any misdeed, and rationalizing their behavior in the name of national security, or the government, or their own safety, if it came to that. But Anna found herself in a dilemma. In truth, Morgan frightened her more than did Peters. Ave Peters was just a large, gruff man who had always been on the other side, and would remain so. But Morgan, the man of few words, something of a loner like herself, was a different matter. |
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"Adversity is a great matchmaker," Ave said. "In more ways than one. You and me. You and Morgan." He dropped his voice and said softly, ''Go easy on him, Mrs. Neville. I mean it. John's a good man, and lonely, so he's ripe for the plucking from someone like yousomeone who knows all the tricks." When Anna tried to interrupt him, Peters gestured to |
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