“What happens if Price decides to locate his server project somewhere else?” Joe asked. “Despite what happens on this trip?”
Ewig ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. Your guess is as good as mine. I can speculate that it wouldn’t be good for you or the agency.”
“Gotcha,” Joe said. His face was burning again.
“Keep me in the loop,” Ewig said. “I want to know how it’s going. Don’t be afraid to ask if you need anything.”
Joe shook his director’s hand.
“Don’t let us down, Joe,” he said.
“I think I got that point real clearly,” Joe replied.
THREE
After removing the rear seat of a rental Suburban to make enough room for all of the gear they’d brought with them, after waiting for Zsolt Rumy to pat down Brock Boedecker and the SUV driver to make sure they posed no threat to Steve Price, and after Price had insisted that Tim Joannides take a photo of him standing in front of the horse trailer with Joe on one side and Boedecker on the other, Joe ambled toward his green Ford F-150 pickup. He would lead the caravan to the trailhead at the base of Battle Mountain, followed by Boedecker and his eight-horse trailer and the rental SUV with the hunting party.
As he opened the door, Joannides appeared. He was out of breath from running across the parking lot from the Suburban.
“Do you mind if I ride along with you?”
“Nope.”
“I want to make sure we’re both on the same page in regard to everything we discussed,” Joannides said. He displayed a miniature iPad. “I’ve got it all on here. I thought if you forgot something, we could stop in town and buy whatever we need to.”
Joe looked at him. “Steve-2 just told me he wanted this hunting trip to be as authentic as possible. He said he wanted a real no-frills deal.”
“What Steve-2 says he wants and what he expects are often different things,” Joannides said. “It’s not his fault. He operates on a different level from the rest of us. But that’s why I’m here: to make sure we’re well-prepared for anything that might come up. You received my grocery list, correct?”
Joe said, “I got everything on your list except quinoa and pili nuts. Those things were nowhere to be found.”
“You’re kidding. Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“This is Wyoming,” Joe said.
Joannides pursed his lips. “Well, let’s just hope it doesn’t come up.”
“Fine by me.”
Joe climbed in and started the engine while Joannides settled himself in the passenger seat with the iPad on his lap. The man started to speak, then stopped short. Joe looked over to find Joannides staring at the .357 Colt Python revolver and other gear on the seat between them.
“What?” Joe asked.
“Do we really need a gun around?”
“We’re going hunting.”
“Yes, I know. But Steve-2 brought his compound bow. I know I told you that.”
“You did,” Joe said. “And I’ll do my best to help him get his elk with it. But elk aren’t the only animals up there, Tim. We’ve had some serious problems with grizzly bears. Half a dozen hunters have been mauled or killed in the last year. I’m bringing my big pistol, and my shotgun loaded with three-inch magnum slugs.”
Joannides stated, “Steve-2 doesn’t believe people should have weapons of war.”
“Maybe he should tell that to the grizzly bears. And Zsolt.”
“That’s different.”
“What’s with the name? Steve-2?”
“It’s his nickname from college and it stuck,” Joannides said. “You know, after Steve Jobs. Jobs was Steve-1, and our Steve wanted to be Steve-2. Now he nearly is.”
“Interesting,” Joe said. “Did you bring bear spray for everyone?”
“It’s illegal in California.”
“Well, it’s necessary here. I don’t want to see any of you without it at any time.”
Joannides looked suddenly distressed.
“Don’t worry,” Joe said. “I brought canisters for everybody.”
“Thank you.”
“What about PLBs?” Joe asked.
Personal locator beacons weren’t a legal requirement, but they were a good idea, Joe thought, especially since the Aloft team wasn’t experienced in the wilderness.
“Those we found,” Joannides said. “Skiers and snowboarders use them, I guess.”
* * *
—
As they took the exit to the state highway from the airport, Joe’s cell phone chimed with three messages, one after the other. He dug the device out of his breast pocket and checked the alerts on the screen. He was alarmed to have received such a sudden onslaught. Was it some kind of emergency?
The texts were from two of his daughters and his wife.
Lucy, his youngest at twenty years old and a sophomore at the University of Wyoming in Laramie, wrote:
You’re with Steve-2? OMG. I nearly fainted.
The text was studded with emojis of rolled eyes, emojis laughing hysterically accompanied by tears, and Lucy’s own face emoji looking seriously shocked.
April, his twenty-two-year-old who had recently graduated from Northwest Community College in Powell and was purportedly taking a couple of months off to figure out her future, wrote:
How can the most uncool man in the world be hanging out with Steve-2? The world is upside down.
Joe knew April wasn’t referring to Boedecker as the most uncool man in the world.
Marybeth, who must have sent her text from her desk at the Twelve Sleep County Library, where she was the director, wrote:
This is a photo I never expected to see! Good luck and I hope you get your elk. Call when you can.
Xoxoxoxoxoxo,
MB
Joe turned to Joannides. “How can my daughters know what we’re doing all of a sudden?”
Joannides said, “We posted it. Steve-2 will be thrilled to know your kids use the platform.”
“I thought this hunting trip was supposed to be below the radar?”
Joannides grinned. “Nothing Steve-2 does is below the radar. When he posts to ConFab, all of our users get the image. He’s a very high-profile individual. I’m surprised you didn’t know that.”