Chapter twelve
Northern Virginia, off Chesapeake BayA cricket chirped. In the moonlight, two sets of footsteps creaked the boards of the narrow old bridge. Off the ocean’s horizon to the south, miles away, lightning flashed, reflecting off the water. Then came the rumble of distant thunder, like a band of bass drums.
Eli Jacoby saw the figure converge towards him on the bridge. He went for his concealed pistol, looked for identifying features, then relaxed. The figure seemed the right height and build. The same slow walk.
The man stopped four feet away. “Jacoby?”
“Wheeler. I see you made it. It’s almost ten o’clock.” Jacoby stopped too, his arms resting by his sides.
“Sorry we’re late, old boy,” said Wheeler, not sounding that apologetic. “I couldn’t help it. We had to scramble to get
