Baxter might have said something but he didn't and to Freedman the job was a flop and that was that, they'd sort it out later.
Even Sandy was silent. Of course, she was driving right now and even she could hardly bitch and whine while maneuvering a couple of tons of metal through some of the tightest security in the world.
Freedman tried to keep himself from pursuing that line of thought any farther, but after all, this was where Sandy was at her best. Poor Baxter. Some men's wives could knit, some men's wives could have babies ("Shell 'em out like peas," his mother used to say), but all Baxter's wife could do was pilot an Army helicopter -- as if it were her own skin.
So Freedman tried to sit back and enjoy the show Sandy was putting on. When the colors outside the window were just right, it was only her reflection that he saw -- the face of a woman dispassionately surveying the sky that was a part of her being while the very center of that being soared through the corners of itself. He could see no emotion on her face as she flew -- no sign of the ecstasy she must feel. Freedman knew that he would feel such ecstasy if he could fly as she did. She was like a young falcon soaring high up in the sky, searching out its prey. She was even like a dolphin frolicking along the surface of the ocean then diving to its depths, or perhaps a barracuda....
Sandy's face finally showed emotion -- a sharp glare directed at Freedman himself -- when Baxter turned to Freedman and asked, "Why are we going to Blackfist's, anyway?"Freedman tried to look thoughtful, then said, "Well Baxter, first of all we need someplace to hide out for a few days, some place safe, and then we'll need expert help if there's going to be the slightest chance of salvaging this Fort Knox operation. I have reason to believe -- don't ask me any questions about it just yet -- that I can strike a good bargain with Blackfist and get just about anything we need for any job we plan in the near future."
It was difficult to argue with Freedman when he wouldn't speak plainly about what he intended to do, so Baxter was silent for a while. Actually, Freedman wasn't too concerned about the robbery that'd just failed, and he wasn't too concerned about where to hide or what job to plan next. He was only half bluffing about having something Blackfist might want, even though he wasn't quite sure what it was. He was sure to find out more when he achieved his real goal at Blackfist's headquarters: a little visit with Oscar, and, finally, Norman.
Freedman knew about Oscar's arrangement with Blackfist over Norman -- it was hard to keep important information from a man who could steal top-secret documents from the President's desk (though God knew he'd have to pay dearly for that one soon enough) without leaving his New City apartment. He even accepted the idea that, within certain limits, these arrangements might be for the best. But Freedman couldn't let Oscar think he'd pulled any wool over his eyes. More important, Freedman knew that he'd have to step in and take a hand in anything that was done about Norman, for Norman's sake, for his own, and even for Oscar's, just in case he didn't quite know what that was.
Freedman knew that, for a veterinarian, Oscar had held some pretty strange jobs. In fact, the last veterinary work that Oscar had done had been with the Amazona State University Extension Office. That was memorable chiefly because Oscar had been called in to help various sheriff's departments who were investigating an epidemic of mysterious cattle mutilations. Since then, he'd held minor civil service jobs, rarely connected with his originally chosen field. Freedman didn't quite know when Oscar came under the wing of Blackfist, but he knew that he'd been there for about five years and seemed happy. That was all right with Freedman but it was plain that Oscar was now trying to solve the childhood mystery that all three shared, that Norman came closest to remembering, of what happened on that terrible day, at that terrible place, so many years ago. Freedman knew that the solution would be more terrible than the problem had ever been, but he also knew that such a solution was inevitable. He accepted that as best he could, so long as he could play his part in the mystery as long as he could, and be there at the final solution.
Freedman was aroused from his meditations by the unusually cool voice of Sandy, saying, "Freedman, we're being hailed by Blackfist's security people. They seem to know who we are buy you'd still better do the talking." With that she handed him a microphone."Come in, come in," he said into the mike. "This is Freedman, master thief, requesting permission to land. Over."
"For a master thief, you don't seem to have mastered your last job," came a voice through the chopper's speaker.
"Melnick!" Freedman cried with surprise and delight. "So you're in the world take-over business now. I wondered what'd become of you. "
"Yeah, it's me. I see you still like to get in over your head. So come on in. This should be interesting, at least.
"At least and a lot more. I've got a few things besides one botched job on my mind right now. Can you put us down?"
"Sure. Just follow the escort in. I can't promise you a real warm welcome but I suppose you're prepared for that."
"I suppose. Anyway, let's sit down and talk about it later."
"Over and out?"
"Over and out."
As Freedman signed off, he saw two military helicopters appear out of nowhere and take places on either side of them. They escorted the robber's to the center of a deserted looking town and hovered over them until their chopper was down. The whirr of the propeller blades turned the streets of the ghost town into an ocean of dust, but Sandy had little difficulty in landing their machine.
All three got out of their seats and drew together the things they thought they'd need. Freedman picked up his pack and automatic rifle and opened the chopper door, followed by Sandy who, to his amazed disappointment, kicked him soundly in the ass, dropping him flat on his face.
He turned in time to see Sandy at the door, shoving her husband back and calling out, "You want to deal with Blackfist, you do just that! We'll take our chances in the sky!" and then she slammed the door shut.
Freedman didn't call out -- he didn't want to choke on all that dust that was flying around. He raised himself up just as the chopper did the same, and ran to the nearest building, using the cloud as cover. He didn't want to take chances on who might betray him next.