The moon hung just a sliver below full, shining in horizontal lines through the slats of the Venetian blinds. Sending ripples of light across the blankets. Ryan lay awake in the huge bed. He had slept only a few hours, awakened by dreams of Dunkelzahn's death.

He edged out of the bed and stood, naked in the moonlight. He looked down on the sleeping form of Nadja. Her, dark hair spilled over the white pillowcase, and there was a slack, unbecoming expression on her face.

He smiled. Such innocence in sleep, he thought. If only I could forget for long enough to get that kind of rest.

Ryan turned away and walked to the wide French doors that opened onto the private balcony. He stepped out into the cool air and looked down on Nadja's personal courtyard, letting the cold marble caress his feet.

The wind blew gently across his skin, soothing his body, but leaving his mind in turmoil. He knew he needed sleep, but that elusive beast refused to let itself be trapped, and his mind refused to quit working. The meeting with Strapp still bothered him. As long as Ryan was a target of the investigation, the Secret Service was spending valuable manpower looking in the wrong direction.

Strapp was right in one thing. Ryan wanted to help with the investigation. Not only did he have resources the Secret Service didn't, he worried that even if they did discover who was behind the murder, they might not have the muscle to take the assassins down. Ryan could help them with that.

Strapp was a fool to think that one man could have pulled off the assassination, though it was possible that one person might have masterminded the whole thing. The way the assassination went down, it had to be a planned and coordinated effort. Vast resources would have been required, and perhaps inside help.

Ryan curled his left hand into a fist. It was so frustrating to watch others plod along on so important a task when he knew he could get the job done faster. He could organize a team before morning, be on the killer's trail before the week was out. Now that he felt as if his brain was clicking on all cylinders, he knew he could discover the killer if he just had a week to fully concentrate on it.

Some intensive digging, a little undercover time, and he'd come up with something concrete to give Strapp. An operation this big could never stay concealed forever, no matter how good the assassin proved to be.

He loosened his fist, and laughed. Who's the fool now? There were hundreds of people looking into finding Dunkelzahn's killer, and he was having a hard time tracking down a dead cyborg.

His thoughts were interrupted when his wristphone beeped. He punched the connect, and all of Jane's womanly charms filled the small screen. "Jane, talk to me."

Jane smiled, somehow still managing a slight pout on her full lips. "Rather abrupt way to greet a messenger bearing good tidings."

The muscles along Ryan's back tensed up. "You've found him." It was a statement, not a question. "And he's not dead."

Jane nodded, throwing blonde tangles everywhere. "Seems General Dentado and his Azzie cronies warned the area truck-train fuel depots that they were likely targets for our cyberzombie. The depot's security open-contracted some pro-level heavies to work the place undercover. I've checked the stats on these chummers, and they were hot. Desert War mercs with years of experience. Yet Burnout sliced and diced them like they were newbie runners."

Ryan felt the skin on his back crawl. "You get trid on it?"

Jane smiled again. "In glorious color. He looks like something right out of an old horror vid, Ryan. You did quite a number on him. Unfortunately, the damage seems mostly cosmetic. He moved so damn fast, I had to replay the trid three times just to see what the hell he did."

Ryan cursed. He'd come to grips with the fact that Burnout was still alive, but he'd hoped the cyberzombie would at least have been hurt.

"Ryan, forgive me saying this, but there's a drekload of bad juju about this chummer."

Roxborough's self-doubt crept from hiding, but Ryan squashed it. "You're right, Jane. He's one bad son of a slitch. But he's got something of mine and I plan to get it back. If I play this right, he'll go down fast and hard, and we'll have this bit of business out of the way quickly."

Jane's frown deepened. "And if you play it wrong?"

Ryan smiled. "Then you'll be the new owner of Assets."

Jane shook her head. "I'll pass."

"Okay, Jane. Can you prep Axler and the team? And arrange for something inconspicuous in the way of air travel for me?"

"On it."

He cut the connection, then punched in Carla Brooks' private line. She answered immediately, her white hair rumpled, and her eyes tired. "Well, Quicksilver, I see I'm not the only one who's having a hard time sleeping."

"Black Angel, I need some official transport out of the mansion. Not too flashy, maybe as part of some guard detail. I also need you to cover for me with the Secret Service."

Brooks' eyes widened. "This have to do with your mission?"

Ryan shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, conscious for the first time that he was naked. "Yes, and we've got a hot trail to follow."

Brooks nodded. "Consider it arranged. Be ready to roll in less than an hour. I'll coordinate with Jane. I'm not sure what I'm going to tell Strapp, but I'll think of something."

"Thanks, Black Angel. I knew I could count on you." He cut the connection, and stood still for a moment, before becoming aware of the presence at his back. He smiled as Nadja's arms circled his bare waist.

Ryan turned in her grasp. She'd wrapped the sheet around herself and looked like a goddess standing on the marble balcony in the moonlight. He put his hand under her chin, tilting her face up to his. He was surprised to find tears on her cheeks.

"Going so soon?" she said.

Ryan nodded. "I wish I didn't have to."

Nadja pulled her face from his hand, and looked at the floor of the balcony. "I reserved an island beach in Georgia," she said. "Thought maybe we could spend a few days there. You know, after Congress votes on my VP nomination." Her eyes turned upward from under moist lashes.

Ryan looked at her face. The monster of exhaustion that he'd noticed earlier was closer to the surface than he'd ever seen before. "I won't be long," he said.

Nadja shook her head, sending small drops of sadness flying from her cheeks. "I don't believe that."

Ryan stepped up to her as she turned away from him. He put his big arms around her delicate shoulders. Leaned his head into the nape of her neck. Her scent was nearly overwhelming.

Her voice was small, tired. "I feel like I'm swimming in a rushing river, and no matter how hard I try, the current keeps pulling me down. The meetings, the schedules, the appointments. People demanding things from me, making accusations."

Ryan held her tightly, kissed her neck.

"When I saw you get out of the limo today, it felt like I'd caught ahold of a life raft. Like for the first time, I didn't have to do it all by myself. That there was someone who understood how I felt. Someone who was here to support me."

She turned to look up at him, and her cheeks were soaked with tears. "And now you're leaving again. I'm not sure I can handle all this by myself."

Ryan felt his love for her like a blow to the chest. She was so strong, so dedicated, and for her to admit that she might not be strong enough took a lot. He turned her around to face him, kissed her forehead, her velvet cheeks, the soft flush of her mouth.

"You are the strongest person I've ever known, Nadja. You will make it, I know you will. There's nothing I'd rather do than stay in Washington to be with you and run down some leads on Dunkelzahn's assassin." Ryan sighed. "But you know I should do this. It's what Dunkelzahn wanted me to do… I have to see this thing through." There was no conviction in his voice and he knew it.