Arlington Cemetery, Three Weeks Later…

"Sad and ironic, isn't it?" said Dolores.

Jay took Chris by the hand and squeezed. He smiled at her.

"Sad, but it could have been worse," said Chris. "They could have gotten away with it. In some sense these three are the heroes of this case."

"I'll second that," said Jay. "If I look at the big picture, I'm not sure the country can survive the upheaval it's going through. Or the rest of the world, for that matter. But at least we all did our small part to make it a better place. And these individuals, together with our dead friends, can now rest in peace."

"Amen," Dolores said. She wiped a tear away, thinking of John. It started to rain, even though the sun was shining. The full storm would not be far behind.

Close by, in a hotel in Arlington, the man who had been known as Vladimir Kalinin, stretched lazily. One of his playmates fed him an olive and another a piece of cheese. Now relaxed, he was planning again. His agile mind mapped out possible futures. The most likely one, considering the riots and the secession sentiment in the US and ethnic movements all over the world, was where the whole planet would convulse in chaos as the twentieth century governmental paradigms failed one by one. There were other possible futures. There was adventure to be had.