When Rapp began to transmit on the powerful secure field radio, there was a collective sigh of relief in the control room as forty-plus minutes of tense radio silence came to an end. General Campbell was the first to speak.

"Give me a sit rep. Iron Man."

Rapp's reply came back slightly garbled but audible. He recounted how the insertion had progressed and the device he had discovered in the president's bedroom. After Rapp had given as much detail as possible about the explosive device, he asked Campbell and Kennedy what they wanted him to do.

Campbell thought about it for only a second and replied, "Continue your reconnaissance, and we'll figure out what to do about the bomb."

"Roger that," replied Rapp.

"I'll get to work."

Back in the control room at Langley one of the technicians in the front row raised his hand up and snapped his fingers.

Kennedy leaned forward and listened to what the technician had to say, then spoke into her headset.

"Iron Man, we need you to conduct a radio check on your portable. Over."

Rapp was holding the handset to the secure field radio to his ear and replied, "Roger." He put his headset back on and adjusted the lip mike.

"Testing, one, two, three, four. Do you read? Over."

They could hear Rapp well enough to understand what he was saying but not as clearly as when he used the field radio.

The larger problem was that Rapp was having a hard time receiving signals. After several tries Rapp lifted the lip mike of his headset and picked up the handset to the field radio.

"My radio isn't working. Over."

"We can hear you on our end, Iron Man," replied Kennedy.

"Are you saying you can't receive us?"

"That's correct."

Kennedy looked to one of the technicians to see if there were any answers. All she got was an unknowing shrug. Into her headset, she said,

"Iron Man, we'll work on that. For now, why don't you check out the rest of the second floor and then check in on the field radio in thirty minutes?"

"Roger that. I'll start to set up the surveillance cameras.

Over and out." Rapp placed the handset back in its cradle and started to organize his gear. Taking the fanny pack of miniature surveillance units, Rapp extracted five of the devices and placed them in his web vest.

"Staircases first?" asked Adams.

"Yep." Rapp grabbed his gun.

"Just like before. Milt. Keep your eyes peeled, and don't walk anywhere where I haven't walked first. All right?" Adams nodded.

"Any questions before we get going?"

"Yeah." Adams looked slightly embarrassed.

"I gotta take a piss."

Rapp grinned, appreciating the much needed levity.

"We can take care of that. In fact we'll make it our first stop. All right, let's move out."

Adams pulled the bolt back, and he and Rapp quietly walked out into the large closet. Adams pushed the bookcase like organizer back into place, and it stopped with a soft click.

With his gun at the ready Rapp stood outside the bathroom while Adams went in and took care of business. Rapp took the time to look around the room and noticed something he had missed earlier. Something odd. The president's bed was in disarray.

Rapp walked over to the bed, and on closer examination he saw something startling, something that made his blood boil. There was a substantial splotch of blood on the white sheets and dangling off the side of the bed was a woman's bra.

Rapp shook his head in disgust at the scene. When Adams came out of the bathroom a moment later, Rapp pointed at the disturbing evidence.

Neither man said a word. After a long moment Rapp walked across the room to a small end table situated near the door that led to the Truman Balcony. Taking one of the small surveillance units from his pocket, he attached one of the Velcro patches to the underside of the table and secured the tiny device.

Rapp motioned to Adams.

"Let's go." He moved for the main door and stopped when he reached it.

Adams stuck the tiny black snake under the door and checked the hallway.

The lights were on, and the picture was very clear.

The cross hall on the second floor of the family residence was wide, about fifteen feet. It was brightly lit and the walls were adorned with built-in bookcases and several oil portraits of past presidents. Various groupings of couches, chairs, tables, and lamps gave the space the dual role of informal living room and hallway.

Adams manipulated the snake back and forth and whispered, "It looks clear." Rapp nodded and said, "Let me take a look first, and then I'll wave you out." Rapp looked at the camera one more time and checked the hallway. Slowly, Rapp turned the knob and opened the door, taking the first step into the brightly lit hallway. HER EYES BLINKED several times before they could stay open. Anna Rielly let out a weak groan. It took her a second to regain her senses, and even then she had no idea where she was. All she knew was her head ached and she was having a hard time breathing. As her eyes came into focus, she saw stairs and then a pair of legs and boots. For a second she thought she was dreaming, and then everything fell into place. The terrorist was carrying her over his shoulder.

She tried to lift her head, but a searing pain shot through her neck.

She knew she had to fight no matter how much it hurt. Rielly commanded herself to ignore the pain, and with as much strength as she could muster, the young journalist bolted upright and grabbed onto the slicked-back hair of the man who was carrying her. Rielly kicked her feet violently and began to scream at the top of her lungs.

MITCH RAPP ALMOST jumped out of his skin. The female voice was so loud and so sudden that it caught him completely off guard. He was standing exposed in the middle of the hallway, bathed in light. The violent scream had shattered the stillness and sent his nerves right to the edge. Rapp paused just long enough to ascertain which direction the scream was coming from and then immediately began to move, while Milt Adams stood frozen two steps behind. Like a big cat, Rapp began a rapid retreat. Instinctively, his right hand reached back in search of Adams.

His left hand kept the lethal barrel of his MP-10 aimed in the direction of the scream, and he pushed Adams back into the open doorway of the president's bedroom.

With Adams now in the lead, they hurried into the closet, and Rapp closed the door behind them. Adams had the door to the stash room open and paused for a second to see what Rapp wanted to do. Rapp pushed him into the small room and pulled the organizer closed behind them.

Adams turned on the light and grabbed his heart.

"Jesus, how do you do this shit for a living?"

Rapp, his own adrenaline pumping, grabbed the monitor around Milt's neck and tuned the picture to the tiny surveillance device they had just planted less than twenty feet away.

ANNA RIELLY CLUTCHED her stomach with one hand and the wrist of the terrorist with the other. Her shoes had fallen off, and she could see them halfway down the hallway as the thug dragged her across the carpet.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, and the pain from the kick to her stomach was so intense she thought she might vomit.

Abu Hasan liked the fight. He considered it part of the thrill, part of the domination. This one, the dark one, was much better than the one he had taken care of last night. The blonde had turned out to be boring.

There was no fight in her, only tears. Hasan smiled widely as he rounded the corner and saw the door to the president's bedroom. It was the perfect place to rape this American whore. Hasan thrust open the door with one hand while he held on to Riellys ponytail with the other.

After dragging her another ten feet, he violently lifted her off the ground and threw her onto the king-size bed. Drawing his knife, he yelled at her, "Take your clothes off, you bitch."