“Imagine that.”

“And they said nothing about a satellite.”

“Because they’re not stupid.”

“And even as good as I am, I don’t think it was good enough to hack into the military defense system. It might be able to seize control once it’s in, but there’s no way it could get past all the firewalls and defenses.”

“But what if the people you sold the program to also had top-secret passwords and back-door information?”

Arlo’s mouth formed a silent o. “That would be bad. That would be real bad.”

“Yeah, it is. Come on, kid.” Semus tugged forcefully at his elbow. “You’re coming with me.”

“But I’ve got class today.”

“I’ll give you a note from the doctor. Bring a copy of your program.”

“I don’t have one!”

“What?”

“That’s part of the deal. They bought exclusive rights. No copies allowed.”

“Did you keep any notes?”

He shrugged. “Not so much.”

“Could you at least explain what you did to our computer experts?”

“I guess I could try.”

“Good. I want you to try very hard.” Seamus led him toward the door. “I want you to think about it in advance so when we get there you-”

Seamus was cut off by a sudden spray of broken glass flying across the room.

“Duck!” he shouted, shoving the kid to the ground.

He watched as a parallel line of bullets crashed into the opposite wall. He heard a harsh rat-a-tat sound, followed by more flying glass and another spray of bullets.

“Great,” Seamus muttered. “Stay down!”

He reached under his coat and pulled his pistol out of its holster. He brought his arms up over the desk and fired wildly out the window, pointing downward. He covered a wide range. He couldn’t possibly see who was firing from this angle-but the shooter didn’t have to know that.

It didn’t suppress fire for long. Another long rain of bullets came flying through the windows. Seamus huddled over Arlo. He didn’t think the bullets could get them here, but even glass could be deadly at this velocity.

He returned fire.

Arlo stared at his gun. “What the hell is that?”

Seamus grunted, speaking as he fired. “That is my official Company-issued weapon.”

“But the guy outside’s got a submachine gun! How do they expect you to take on guys like that with a peashooter?”

Tell me something I don’t already know, Seamus thought. He squeezed off another round, then ducked behind the desk.

“Who is that?”

“Don’t know. Probably one of those preppies you work for.”

“You think he wants his money back?”

“No. I think he wants you dead.”

“Why?”

“So you won’t tell anyone what you just told me.”

“But it’s too late!”

He shook his head. “Not if he kills me, too.”

He fired another round, then ducked back behind the desk.

The bullets stopped.

“Does that mean he went away?” Arlo whispered.

“In the first place,” Seamus said, “I wouldn’t assume there was only one. In the second place, I doubt it. We’re totally pinned down. Why leave? Why not finish off the job?”

“Oh.”

“Look, kid, focus on the door. When I count to three, I want you to make a run-”

His sentence trailed off as more glass blasted into the room. A small canister plopped down on the floor only a few feet away from them.

It was round and indented like a pineapple.

Arlo made a sucking sound with his throat. “Is that-a grenade?”

“I’m not sure,” Seamus said, inching forward, careful not to get in the way of another round of bullets. “It might just-”

The lid popped off. Seamus heard a hissing noise, then, a moment later, a colorless gas sprayed out of the canister.

“Oh, no,” Seamus said. “Oh, Jesus God.”

“What is it?”

“Bad news.”

Arlo grabbed his arm. “Bad? How bad?”

Seamus shook his head. “We’re dead.”

President Kyler stared at the vice president with something like a combination of horror and disbelief. “Good God, Connie-what the hell are you doing here?”

Swinburne smiled faintly. “Good to see you, too, Roland.”

“Don’t take it personally, man-you were supposed to be a long way from here by now.”

One of the agents guarding Swinburne handed Zimmer a sheet of paper. Zimmer glanced at it, nodded. “They didn’t make it out, sir. We didn’t move fast enough. I take full responsibility for this failure.”

“I don’t care about who is to blame, Zimmer. I want to know what happened.”

“We got the vice president to Air Force One, but before they could take off, the missile in the Potomac exploded. We deemed it too risky to take to P-fifty-three airspace with the possibility of guided missiles that near. And now we know Colonel Zuko controls some of our missiles-”

“I get the picture, Zimmer. You did the right thing.” President Kyler stared at the next person in the line of succession to his office. “I’m glad you’re safe, Connie. But I’m not glad you’re here.”

“Understood, sir. If you’d like, I can retire to the other room.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. If you’re stuck here, you should know what’s going on. But Zimmer-notify the Speaker of the House. Just in case.”

Just in case they should have to tap the third in the constitutional line of succession? Ben felt a chill run right down his spine.

He watched the interplay between Kyler and Swinburne carefully. Even though they had been running mates, Ben knew they were not close. Kyler was far more liberal and they differed on many key policy issues, differences Swinburne had been forced to bury to get the vice presidential ticket. They were almost fifteen years apart in age-Swinburne was older-and they had radically different backgrounds. Kyler had grown up poor; Swinburne was privileged. And they came from opposite ends of the country. Swinburne had originally run for president and accepted the vice presidential slot only after it became clear Kyler had clinched the nomination. Even then, the selection was not made based upon any mutual respect. It was a simple matter of self-preservation. Swinburne was from Florida, which had progressively become the most important swing state in every presidential election. Kyler had chosen Swinburne because he needed him, not because he wanted him.

“Sarie,” the president said, “would you bring the vice president up-to-date?”

Ben didn’t question why he had chosen his chief of staff to perform a task that anyone in the room could’ve done, including the cabinet members. She had a fine ability to synthesize materials and to deliver the key points in an economical fashion. Even without notes, she was able to summarize their desperate situation succinctly.

“And now, Ben, please fill him in on the legalities as you see them.”

Ben complied, trying to mimic her efficiency. What was there to say, really? The president had taken an action for humanitarian purposes that a sovereign leader was interpreting as an act of war. So he was coming at the United States with everything he had. Which, unfortunately, turned out to be quite a bit.

“You think he’s acting within his rights?” Swinburne asked.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Ben answered. “But I think we’ve given him the ammunition he needs to justify his extreme actions to the world, at least for a while.”

“That will change as soon as people start dying. We may be in his waters but we haven’t killed anyone.”

“True,” Ben felt compelled to say. “But if war does break out, there will be casualties on all sides. And all anyone will remember will be who started it. Zuko is determined to make the world think that was us. To paint us as the aggressor.”

“Why do you all keep talking about war?” Secretary Ruiz said. “We don’t want to go to war with these people. Do we?”

“Not at the moment,” the president said. “As long as they control our missiles, we would be at a distinct disadvantage.” He pivoted and turned back to the communications station. “Any progress on getting that maniac out of our computers?”