the woman at the air charter company said. “Thirteen thousand four hundred?” Silva echoed, incensed. “That’s crazy.” “Out and back, fuel and tax, thirteen four,” she rattled off, stone-faced. “That’s the price.” “That aircraft shouldn’t cost more than fifteen hundred an hour.” “It never did until the other charter company went bust, and we became the sole option. That’s when my boss raised his prices.” “Your boss is a thief.” “I hear that a lot.” “We can’t afford thirteen four. No way.” “I hear that a lot, too.” “And yet it’s a matter of life and death. We have to get there before dark.” “Is that a fact?” She looked like she’d heard that one a lot as well. “It is. Look.” He showed her his warrant card. “Oh,” she said. “Cops.” “That’s right. Federal cops.” She lowered her voice, looked around to make sure no one was listening. “It’s just the two of you, right?” Silva nodded. “Well, I didn’t tell you this, but our other three-forty is fueling for a flight to the same place and with only one other passenger.
