Page 97 of The Maverick
By the third time I stopped for water and checked for tails, I had the start of a plan for Craine.
Not the whole thing. Plans came together in pieces. But I had the shape of the thing—where I was going to push, what I'd give him to make him push back in the direction I wanted. I had a list of three or four favors I was going to need to call in. The first one was the one I was running toward.
By the time night fell, I was at the gate.
Dominion Hall opened for me without anyone visibly opening it.
I walked up the white drive.
A butler answered the door before I got to the top step.
I'd seen butlers in movies. I had not, in my actual life, dealt with a man in butler attire at a private door before, and I will say there was a part of me that wanted to crack a joke and a larger part of me that decided not to, because the man's posture told me he was the kind of professional who'd heard every joke I had three times each from younger and richer men than me and had retired his patience for that flavor of humor sometime during the second Bush administration.
He was in his sixties. Salt-and-pepper hair. Bearing of a man who'd served in something before he'd served in this. The eyes of a man who'd seen the inside of more powerful rooms in his life than I'd seen the inside of in any of mine.
He inclined his head.
"Mr. Dane."
"Evening."
"How may I be of service?"
"I'm here for my room."
He stepped back from the door without ceremony.
"Of course, sir."
He didn't ask my name. He didn't ask for ID. He didn't check a list. I'd been scanned somewhere on the way in—face, gait, probably the heart-rate spike from the run—by a system whose existence I would not be told about until somebody decided I was ready to know, and the system had cleared me, and the butler had been informed.
I crossed the marble.
The viper was still in the foyer. Tongue still doing its slow, careful test of the air. I tipped my chin at it the way I'd tipped my chin at the ex-Marine driver yesterday morning. The viper did not return the gesture, which I respected.
"Sir," the butler said behind me. "Will you require anything before you go up?"
I stopped on the bottom step of the staircase.
"Yes, actually."
"Of course."
"I'd like some clothes, please. Jeans, t-shirt, nothing fancy. I went out the door this morning in workout gear and I'd like to be a man in pants when I'm having my next conversation."
"Of course, sir. They'll be in the dressing room of your suite by the time you've finished your shower."
"Appreciate it."
"And, sir."
"Yeah."
"Anything else?"
I held his eye for a second.
"I'd like access to the armory."
