"Has he got a name?"

"He knows your name is Miller and he has a description. Let him make the approach. You don't talk to anybody. Okay?"

"Got it. Then what happens?"

"You go where he takes you; more than likely, into one of the bricked-up buildings. You tell him what you want and he may or may not be able to help you. When you're finished, you call. He'll show you how to get back on West Seltzer and then go on his way. You go back to the stoop, or leaning on the wall, and when I come by you get in. Got it?"

"Got it."

"If something goes wrong, there's an unmarked Counterterrorism car somewhere around here and a Highway supervisor-actually, my brother-in the area, probably parked near the North Philadelphia Station. Either or both can be here in a minute or so. But the real name of the exercise is not blowing the cover of our guy. Understood?"

"Understood."

"Then when we finish here, there's another meet set up, we hope, for half past nine at North Twenty-fifth and Huntington streets, about twenty blocks from the station. And maybe one more after that."

"Watch your back, Dick," Castillo said as Betty slowed the BMW and approached the intersection of West Seltzer and West Somerset streets again.

"You behave, Casanova," Miller said.

Betty stopped the car. Miller got out, pushed-rather than slammed-the door closed, and walked away. Betty made a left turn on West Seltzer, then a right turn on North Broad Street.

"There's my brother," she said as they passed the station. "And another Highway car."

"They won't attract attention?"

"Highway is all over the city, all the time. Not that it would bother him. He takes very good care of his baby sister."

"I saw that in the bar at the Warwick. I really thought he was your boyfriend."

"And he asked me if you had hit on me," she said.

"You will recall I had not."

"I also recall that you told me you were the catering manager for some oil company. And I believed you. You're a very good liar. You could have been a con man."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Take that as a statement of fact," Betty said. "I also suspect that your not hitting on me in the hotel was the exception to your normal behavior."

"Why would you think that?"

"Dick keeps warning me about you, and telling you to behave."

"Trust me, Sergeant," Charley said. "Your virtue is not about to be attacked."

"I'll bet you say that to all the girls," Betty said.

"Would you feel better if I got in the backseat?"

"Unnecessary. I can take care of myself."

"Changing the subject, where are we going now?"

"I'm going to turn off Broad in a couple of blocks and make our way back to the general area where we dropped Dick off."

She had just made the turn when Castillo's cellular rang.

"Hello "Yes, sir "We just dropped Dick off to meet with one of the undercover cops "Sergeant Betty Schneider of the Intelligence Unit."

"Organized Crime and Intelligence Unit," Betty corrected him.

" Organized Crime and Intelligence Unit, I have just been corrected "When he calls, we'll go pick him up. There's at least one more meet tonight "Probably late into the night, sir. This is difficult to do "No. Chief Inspector Kramer made it pretty clear that Dick would do much better at this than me. Dick's black.

"No, sir. I'm not really needed for this "Fort Bragg? What for? "Yes, sir. I don't know how long it will take me to get there. Probably Philly-Atlanta-Fayetteville. I'll call you "What time will it get to Philly, sir? "It'll take me that long to pack and get out to the airport, sir "Yes, sir. Mr. Secretary, could I stay here until Dick finishes doing what he's doing? Maybe he'll come up with something "Yes, there is the telephone, sir. But it's not secure. And I really hate to just leave Dick "Yes, sir. I understand. Secretary Beiderman's now in the loop, is he? "Yes, sir. I'll call you when I get there. If Dick comes up with something while I'm in the air "Yes, sir. I understand."

As Castillo put his cellular into his pocket, he realized that Betty Schneider had pulled the Crown Victoria to the curb and stopped.

She was looking at him.

"The secretary of defense now knows what's going on," Castillo said, "and thinks I should go to Fort Bragg to meet with General McNab. So I'm going to Fort Bragg. Right now. My boss has sent his plane here to pick me up."

"Dick will be all right, Charley," Betty said. "We have him pretty well covered. The risk is really to the undercover cops."

"Yeah," he said.

"You really are worried about him, aren't you? I would have thought:"

"What?"

"Oh, I don't know. Macho stuff. Green Berets can do anything. But you really care."

"Dick and I go back a long way. And he doesn't have any experience with anything like this."

"And you've always taken care of him, right?"

"Meaning what?"

"His mother told me what you did in Afghanistan. No wonder she hugged you the way she did."

Castillo met her eyes for a moment.

"Can you take me someplace where I can catch a cab?"

"I can do better than that," she said and took out her cellular and punched an autodial key.

"Tom, I need to transport our guest first to the Warwick and then to the airport. And right now."

She looked at Castillo.

"My big brother," she said.

"I figured."

"Okay," Betty said to the telephone. "On the south side, in five minutes. Thanks, Tom."

She broke the connection, dropped the cellular into her purse, and pulled away from the curb.

"Tom's sending a Highway car to North Philadelphia Station. They'll take you to the Warwick and out to the airport."

"Thank you."

There was nothing that looked like a Highway Patrol car near the North Philadelphia Station when they got there.

Betty drove the BMW to an unlit area, stopped, and turned the headlights off.

A moment later, two cars pulled into the area beside the station.

"There's your Highway car," Betty said. "And, more than likely, Tom."

Betty flashed the headlights once.

"Do I go there or will they come here?"

"You start walking, and when they see you:"

"You've been great, Betty. Thank you very much."

"And I'll take care of Dick," she said. "Don't worry."

And then their faces were close.

And then she moved her face even closer and he felt her lips-warm and soft-on his.

Not chaste, Castillo thought. And certainly not passionate. Something in between. Tender.

"Jesus!" he said.

"Yeah, Jesus," Betty said, softly. "I really didn't mean for that to happen."

Castillo touched her cheek with the pads of his fingers but made no attempt to kiss her again.

"Go, Charley," Betty said.

He moved his head quickly and kissed her again. She responded for a moment, then averted her head.

"Go, Charley," she said. "Please."

He got out of the car and walked toward the railroad station.

One of the Highway cars started toward him. He stopped walking and waited. The car drove right past him. The second car moved toward him and stopped next to him.

Castillo got in and pulled the door shut.

There was a barrier between the front and rear seats. The upholstery in the back was of heavy plastic material.

A very large, very black police officer wearing a brimmed cap that seemed several sizes too small for him turned in the seat as the car started to move.

"The Warwick and then the airport, right?" he asked.

"Yes, please."

"Sit back and enjoy the ride," the Highway Patrol officer said as the car started down North Broad Street.