Fletcher was proud of his country, but he understood what most Americans hadn’t, that most of his country’s technology had been devoted more for destructive than productive goals. Had this been a college or university corners would have been cut at every turn, but never at a place like this. He circled the place three times trying to find the most likely place to break in. It looked tight as a drum, but still he imagined he saw at least two places where he, if he had some help, might be able to at least penetrate the outer perimeter. Actually, where to get in the building once inside the fence was still a mystery, a conundrum he’d have to resolve later. He hoped perhaps Florence, or maybe Warren, would come up with some kind of floor plan, some way to get inside. Once inside he’d figure something out. He’d manage some way to locate her, his Sorrel. He had to control his emotions. From time to time his imagination got away from him. He imagined what they might be doing to her, and it. Stood there waiting. I was afraid and excited, both at the same time. What if I'd guessed wrong? It was possible that I was kidding myself here. Was this like an ant trying to rape an elephant? Every second that I waited seemed so much longer than that to me. By the time that I'd begun to be convinced that I had been right, and the voice would have to deal with me on a more equal footing, I started sensing that I was all alone again. I couldn't feel his presence with me at all. Silence.
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