THE WOMAN HAD GONE into her tent a few moments earlier. She’d almost caught him in there, searching for the formula, or lacking that, the small jar that would make him rich. He’d searched her house, her computer, and her car and had found no sign of the formula for the contents of that jar. If he had to he could get someone to recreate the mixture from the contents of the jar. But then that someone might guess what he was up to and demand a cut. He’d rather scare her into giving him the formula. And then take care of the problem for good.
He didn’t need any more loose ends. But he could stand to be patient for a couple more days.
They’d gathered at the encampment a couple of days early, to give them a chance to train a large group of new enactors and practice the new script. The general
