"What's happening, Judd?"

"Nothing you can help with now. Maybe later. There's enough for you to do in Washington. Call Logan and tell him Keller is okay, that Leary said he's sure he's not part of Betworth's group. Tell him to grab Keller and tell him that all hell's going to break loose there the day after tomorrow."

"Andreas and Keller are at Camp David. Andreas is work ing on the Mideast Pact and he's not receiving anyone." "Shit." One more thing gone wrong. It was almost too coincidental that the President was incommunicado. Manipulation behind the scenes by Betworth?

"What's happening the day after tomorrow?"

"Morales sold Betworth a suitcase bomb as part of the package. Dirty. Radioactive." "Christ."

"It's going to go off somewhere in the White House. Leary wasn't sure when or where. He said Danley would know. Pick up the bastard and grill him."

"If we can find him. He's disappeared from the radar scope for the last few days." He paused. "How dirty?" "Small, but with enough radioactivity to cause a hell of a lot of contamination." "How the hell could they get it into the White House?" He paused. "Alex found out where Z-3 is, didn't she? Do you know?"

"No."

"But you're going to find out. Call me, dammit. We have to know. It's not just your game this time, Judd."

"Then find a way to get in touch with Keller, but tell him to stay the hell away from Z-3 until I get back to you. It's the quickest way to get Alex killed. He has a little time. More than twenty-four hours. Nothing's supposed to happen until November twelfth." But they wouldn't care about Alex. To the Secret Service, everyone was expendable if it meant saving the President.

Well, Alex wasn't expendable. Let Logan and Galen race around and save Andreas and the whole damn country. He'd given them their chance.

He was going after Alex.

Another hill…

Alex stumbled up it.

She could see her breath pluming in the cold night air as she struggled for air. She glanced over her shoulder. Strong moonlight. She might be cursing it before the night was over. No Runne yet. It had been ten minutes since she'd jumped out of her car and fled into the woods. Why wasn't he right behind her? Or maybe he was ahead of her.

Don't think about it.

Keep on running.

He might be good, but no one was perfect.

She had a chance.

Keep on running…

November 11

12:40 A.M.

Morgan's phone rang just before he was boarding his flight. "Hello, Morgan," Runne said. "Have you been waiting for my call? I've been waiting for a long time too. But it's almost over now."

"I'm glad. I'm tired of leading you a chase. There was no challenge. Though why you think you can best me is pretty laughable. I was tracking and targeting hits when you were still a snotty-nosed kid."

"You're not going to make me angry. If there's one thing

I've learned from you, it's to keep my emotions in check." "It didn't look like it at the Powers place. That job could have been done by a teen slasher." "I was hurt. I couldn't-" He stopped. "I'm not making ex cuses to you. I'm in control now." "You're not in control until you have Alex Graham. You don't, do you?"

"Not yet. I'm giving her an hour's head start. Isn't that generous of me? After escaping me for so long, she'll be filled with hope. We both know how depriving prey of hope can crush them. I figure I should have her within twenty minutes or so after I start tracking. Shall I tell you what I'm going to do with her?"

"Don't play that charade with me. You'll have to catch her first. Are you going to tell me where you are or just keep on snarling like some third-grade hoodlum?"

There was silence. "Of course I am. That's what this is all about. And she'll pay for that ugly remark, Morgan. I want you to remember that. Take the Beltway out of D.C. to 270 north. Go forty miles to Frederick, Maryland, then take Highway 15 north. Turn left on Matthew Parkway and then right at the first intersection. Z-3 is two miles down the road. On your right you'll see a sign advertising the Copper Kettle Restaurant in Baltimore. Six miles from the sign you'll see a bluff. Beyond that bluff is a valley of two hundred acres of unoccupied Corps of Engineers woods and hills. When will you be here?"

"It may take me a few hours to get there. But I'll show up when you least expect me." "Don't be too long. I might grow impatient and cut her throat."

"But then I wouldn't have any reason to continue with the hunt. What good is a dead woman to me?" "Revenge?"

"Revenge is for fanatics like you. I'm sure you've found

I don't let emotion enter into the mix." "I learned it when you used me to kill my father. Do you know, I'd never had a friend, but I thought I had one in you. I… thought you felt that way too."

"No, you were just a means to an end."

"You son of a bitch." Runne's voice was hoarse with pain. "And that's what the woman is to me. A means to an end. Your end, Morgan. Come and find us." He hung up.

When will you be here?

The question had filled him with frustration and terror.

There was no way he could be at Z-3 in less than another five hours. How the hell was Alex going to survive on the run from that bastard for that long? She wouldn't surrender easily, and that meant Runne would use force-and force could be deadly.

He had to keep calm and cool as he'd learned through years of playing this ugly game. But this time it wasn't a game. It was Alex.

"Runne called me ten minutes ago to report in," Danley said to Betworth when he answered the phone. "The bastard was almost cheerful. It makes me wonder."

"He should be cheerful. He's doing what he likes best," Betworth said. "But you know where he's going to take his shot?"

"From the top of the bluff."

"And you'll be there to take him out immediately? I don't want any mistakes." "I'm doing it myself. He'll be dead ten seconds after he makes his shot. Is everything going well there?" "As well as can be expected. I think Logan may be getting uncomfortably close, but once we go into high gear we can roll right over him." He paused; time to spread some honey. "By the way, the tech van you stationed near Camp David is functioning well. Good job."

"Thanks." Danley hesitated. "I haven't heard from Leary today." "Is that a concern?"

"Not yet. Cordoba said he'd been bar-hopping every night since he arrived. I just want him in place to make sure Matanza doesn't go overboard."

"You said Leary was reliable. Besides, Cordoba has everything to gain. I wouldn't worry that he'll cooperate." Betworth glanced at the clock. "It's two-thirty in the morning, Danley. Just this one more day to get through and then we'll be going full steam ahead. I can't tell you how relieved I am to have a man of your ability in charge there. I'm coming down myself, but not until tomorrow. I won't be able to take off from here until right before I set everything in motion. Call me if you have any problems." He hung up and leaned back in his chair. He could feel the excitement flowing through him like fine wine. It was exhilarating to feel this all-powerful. Other men would probably have felt nervous and frightened along with this high. But, then, other men wouldn't have been able to pull off a coup like this.

5:05 A.M.

"Danley's nowhere to be found," Logan said. "And, dammit, I can't get through to Camp David. I've been trying for hours. I keep getting told neither Keller nor the President will accept calls."

"Have you tried to get through to Chelsea Andreas?" "I've got a call in to Pittsburgh, but Andreas has made sure her security is as tight as his own. Not much hope there."

"Weird," Galen said. "I can see Andreas refusing calls, but not Keller. If he refused a call, it would mean ignoring information. The Secret Service checks out every piece of info that comes their way. After Kennedy's assassination they even beefed up their policy."