Either he was another superb liar or else he really didn't sense a threat. Which meant that DeMarco's dampening fieldand possibly Sawyer'swas having the desired effect. But Sawyer's feeling of triumph was cut short when they all heard another vehicle coming up the neat graveled drive. He turned without even thinking about it, staring at the gleaming black sedan as it pulled up near the police Jeeps.

Jesus, not now. Who the hell?

A chauffeur who looked like a cross between a navy SEAL and a retired heavyweight boxer slid from the driver's seat and, expressionless, opened the car's back door.

Senator Abe LeMott stepped out.

OH, SHIT. Definitely not part of the plan.

Sawyer had certainly never met the senator, but he recognized him instantly; LeMott's face had been all over the news the previous summer. His face, and his wife'suntil she had committed suicide not long after the savage murder of their daughter, Annie.

A murder investigated by a task force led by Bishop. A murder that had been, tragically, only one of many during that hot Boston summer. Her murderer had escaped the city but had not, in the end, escaped the determined efforts of Bishop, the SCU, and Haven operatives.

Not that all that had made it into media reports, but certainly the capture of a vicious serial killer had been reported.

And there was plenty of evidence that he was, indeed, the Boston serial. Some of that evidence had been leaked to the media, and few had any doubt at all of his guilt.

So what was Senator Abe LeMott doing herenow?

Before Sawyer could ask that baffling question, Galen said roughly, "LeMott, you should not be here."

The senator looked at him with mild curiosity, glanced at a silent Bishop, then fixed his gaze on Samuel.

"I wanted to meet you," he said, his voice both courteous and cold. "To look into your eyes. Before you're destroyed, I want to know what kind of man could so easily kill."

Samuel smiled. "I don't know what you're talking about, Senator. I'm a man of God."

"You're a monster. Worse than that creature you kept on a leash while he killed for you. Man of God?" LeMott drew a breath and released it in a sound of unutterable disgust. "God won't have you, Samuel. Hell won't have you."

"Senator, you have my deepest sympathy. The loss of your daughter and your wife must be almost beyond bearing."

LeMott's face hardened.

Oh, Christ. He's going to do something. Sawyer didn't know what, but he was very much afraid that what was left of their careful plan was about to be scattered to hell and gone.

"Samuel, I don't believe you have an ounce of sympathy in what passes for your soul. In fact, I don't believe you have a soul. I'd feel more reluctance to put a mad dog out of its misery than I feel in ridding the world of you."

"Senator." His smile widened as Samuel shook his head. "Did you really believe it would be so easy?"

He lifted one hand in a quick, practiced gesture.

With shocking suddenness, the chauffeur who had stood so still and silent near LeMott was lifted off his feet as though an invisible rope were attached to his body. He literally flew backward for yards, until he slammed into a parked car with so much force the hood of the vehicle was nearly bisected. The chauffeur stiffened for only an instant and then slumped, his hand slipping out of the lapel of his jacket, the gun he held falling to the ground.

Beneath the crumpled hood of the car, blood trickled onto pristine gravel.

"God's punishment for the wicked," Samuel said.

Of all the people in the Square, LeMott appeared least surprised. The senator turned his head to look toward his dead man, then his gaze returned to Samuel's face.

"Freeze!"

Sawyer nearly jumped out of his skin, and even as he absorbed the ridiculous command, he knew he had made a horrible mistake in bringing Robin along on this "operation."

"Robin," he said, "don't"

She didn't fly backward as the chauffeur did. But her weapon clattered against the hood of the Jeep, she let out a strangled cry that chilled Sawyer to the bone, and then she went down.

By the time he got to her, she was already gone, her face contorted in agony and wide eyes going white.

He rose slowly to his feet, numbly aware of the frozen tableau around him. So fast. It had all happened so damn fast.

Sawyer. It isn't over. And he'll go on killing unless we stop him now. Here.

"Poor thing," Samuel said, his voice as smooth and pleasant as always. "Poor little thing. I wonder what she did to earn God's wrath. Can you tell me, Chief?"

His eyes were beginning to glow.

"No." Sawyer took a step toward the church. Then another.

Thunder rumbled, louder now. The storm was closer. He stared at Samuel. "I can't tell you that. She was a good officer. She was a good person." The choked sound of his own voice was hardly professional, and he didn't give a shit.

"Such a shame. You have my sympathy."

Sawyer glanced at LeMott, understanding in that moment the other man's icy rage. The senator was motionless, expressionless.

Thunder rumbled again, and a chilly breeze sprang up. A flash of lightning crackled across the dark, heavy clouds.

Almost time, Sawyer. We're almost ready.

Samuel tilted his head to one side suddenly, an alertness stealing over his benign features. "Someone's talking," he remarked softly.

It wasn't time for Samuel to become aware of what was happening. Sawyer knew it, knew they weren't yet ready, knew Tessa wasn't ready.

Their plan was in tatters, and all he could think to do was draw his weapon and

Sawyer began to feel a prickling sensation crawling over him, from his scalp down his neck, spreading outward from his spine. And to his shock he realized that he couldn't move. It was as if his body no longer recognized the direction of his brain.

"I don't think so, Sawyer." Samuel was smiling at him, a little sadly. "I really did hope you'd know who your friends were when the time came. I told you so, remember? I'm sorry you made a different choice, truly I am."

His hand began to lift, and Sawyer watched it with the cold realization that he was going to die. The tingling sensation disappeared, replaced by a slow constriction that sent fiery pain all along his nerve endings.

"Don't," a woman's voice said.

Samuel paused, his expression at first a sort of amused indifference. But then he turned his head and saw Hollis.

"I really wouldn't," she said.

Sawyer realized he could breathe again, that the pain had diminishedthough not disappearedas Samuel's attention shifted to the woman who had taken a couple of steps away from the Jeep to face him.

Samuel's hand began to swing toward her, something flickering in his glowing eyes.

"I've opened a door," Hollis said.

Samuel froze, his eyes still flickering.

Not part of the plan, this isn't part of the plan____________________Sawyer realized he could turn his head just far enough to see Hollis, and even with everything that had happened, he was astonished to see an odd sort of radiance around her.

Her aura. Somehow, she had made it visible.

"A door," she said to Samuel, her expression intent, eyes narrowed. "Between our worldand the next."

Thunder rumbled and lightning laced the darkening sky.

"Hollis," Galen breathed, "be careful."

She never took her eyes off Samuel. "I'm in the doorway," she told him. "Holding them back. Holding back the one thing you know damn well won't be denied to you in that world. Punishment."

Samuel studied her for a moment, his expression first wary and then certain. "I don't believe you," he said, and moved his hand.