"You're a dark horse, Max. What did you make of our Irish Spring conversation?"
"I had a bit of trouble following it. The technical terms did me in."
"I had a bit of trouble following it myself. Woda Didi is brilliant but there's a coldness about him that scares the living daylights out of me."
A coldness about him, why did that bother me? The realization sent a chill through me.
"Pull up a chair," I said. "Look at this photo. Take the magnifying glass."
"Yeah, it's probably Julian's aircraft. So?"
"Notice the window."
"That could be Woda Didi's hand. I can see the baby finger. Perhaps Julian is sitting in the right seat."
"I thought you were sitting in the right seat. See the person being lifted from the car and being put into the right seat?"
"When were these photos taken?"
"Friday afternoon about two o'clock."
"At about that time, I was checking in at the America West counter. "This is very strange," she said quietly. "At two forty five, I flew back to LA. I had to get back to my little soldiers."
That's why Irish Spring needs to be put into effect now," Clarissa said as soon as "I don't see how I can do it by myself."
"How did you come up with the name?"
It was a stalling tactic. It gave me time to think. It gave Clarissa time to calm down.
"Are both of your ideas in the end stage or are you still trying to make it happen?"
"The sterile seed scenario is complete. We have been successful in putting that together. But I don't like it because it is too obvious."
My brain was whirling. "The second scenario would be a lot more satisfying because it would catch the cartels off guard."
"They wouldn't suspect a thing until deadly complaints began to come in. This is really something," I said. "Would you like to know, who I really am?"
"No. What I want to know is who you were that night at the Arizonian. I don't think you are the same person now."