As she moved through the slippery darkness, she smiled grimly to herself. Retribution was laid out in the palm of her hand. She had left the truck several hundred yards north of here along the lower road, to which she had driven in low gear and with all her lights off. It had taken her six minutes to wire the accelerator-longer than she would have liked, but the light was very bad and she could not afford to switch on her searchlight even for an instant. It was essential that her quarry be given no advance warning of her whereabouts.

She reached the battered PT Cruiser without incident. It was precisely where she had been told it would be. Climbing in, she placed the rifle at her feet and her handgun on the seat beside her. Then she drove slowly and without lights toward the nearest of the road's turnouts.

She was south of her quarry. Her intention was to drive north, come at them from behind while they were looking for her up ahead or, if they had been observant, within the area around the copse of ash. But just as she was approaching the turnout, she felt a weight on the off-side of the car and without a moment's hesitation she whipped up the gun and shot three times through the passenger's side window. A moment later, there was a shattering of the window's safety glass and something had her by the throat.

It was a combination of good luck and instinct that caused Jenny to head due south as she left the Lincoln. She knew that it would be a mistake to look for Donatella in the copse of trees. She had fired from there, according to Bravo, which meant the moment she knew Kavanaugh was dead, she'd have left the trees. She was now a moving target, and it was imperative that Jenny find her immediately because it was in the first few minutes after a shoot that the sniper was most vulnerable. To do that, Jenny knew, she had to put herself in Donatella's head. Where would the Knight go now, what would she do? Her job was incomplete; she'd be coming after Jenny and Bravo, but now she would have to substitute speed for the element of surprise. To Jenny, that meant she would not approach them on foot.

Jenny was looking for a vehicle when she heard the sound of an engine coming toward her. The instant she saw the PT Cruiser swing into view she leapt onto the running board.

Through the window she saw Donatella reaching for her gun and she ducked down. The shots passed over her head and she came up, slamming her elbow into what was left of the window. Then, gripping the door handle and using it as a fulcrum, she launched herself feet first through the opening, slamming her shoes into Donatella's face.

Donatella's torso arched up in reflex, and her right arm swept around, her forefinger itching to pull the gun's trigger. But, prepared for this, Jenny took hold of her wrist and twisted. Donatella grunted and the gun dropped from her nerveless fingers onto the seat. Jenny locked her ankles around Donatella's neck, squeezed her legs together, creating a vise. Donatella screamed, tried to reach for her weapon, but Jenny tightened the lock on her neck and, gasping, she abandoned the intent.

Jenny's head and shoulders were still outside the car, and as Donatella stepped on the accelerator, the PT Cruiser leapt forward, slewed on the loose gravel of the turnout and gained the road. Jenny was slammed against the window frame but maintained her choke hold on her foe.

On her side of the road there was a narrow verge and then the almost sheer rock face above, which was the precipice over which she and Bravo had tumbled. Donatella turned the wheel to the right and the car crossed the verge toward the rock face. Sparks shot off the front fender of the PT Cruiser as the metal-work made contact with a stone outcropping, so that Jenny was obliged to grip the top of the open window in order to lever herself the rest of the way inside. In so doing, her ankle grip loosened and, with a violent wrench, Donatella extricated herself. At the same time, she leaned over, her outstretched fingers reaching for the gun.

Jenny kicked out, her heel striking Donatella's rib cage with such force that Donatella lost her grip on the wheel. The car slammed into the rock face, bounced off, shot wildly forward, then struck an outcropping and spun around in two complete circles before its rear end struck the rock wall for the final time. With a harsh grinding of gears and screaming of rent metal, it rode up on two wheels. Skidding back onto the road, it traveled another five hundred feet on its side until it struck the fallen utility pole and then the high square grill of the truck Donatella had rigged.

The two passengers, shaken up and bruised by the short but heart-stopping flight of the careening car, fought groggily for the upper hand, but during the final jarring few feet, Jenny's head struck the dashboard. Even before the car had come to rest, Donatella had grabbed her by the front of her shirt and slammed her back against the door. She struck Jenny once, twice, three times.

A burst of white stars clouded Jenny's vision and searing pain filled her head. She tried to retaliate, but she didn't seem to have the strength. Like a hammer blow about to fall on her, she could feel a manic energy coming off Donatella and was terrified. Groping desperately behind her, she pushed down on the door handle even as Donatella drew back her arm to throw another punch. The door opened, and she fell backward out of the PT Cruiser.

For a moment she lay sprawled on the road, dazed and despairing. Then she felt the rain on her face and, as if taking strength from it, managed to stagger to her feet. Her legs were rubbery, her knees weak; she was dizzy, and when she put her hand to the back of her head it came away smeared with blood.

In the car, Donatella had scooped up the gun.

Bravo waited until the FT Cruiser came to rest. By the dim glow cast by the streetlights north and south of their position, he saw that Jenny was in trouble. But it wasn't until he saw that Donatella was concentrated solely on her that he knew how best to help her. He ran through the swirling mist toward the car, mindful of the downed power cable. He periodically lost sight of his goal and, once, he felt certain that he was running in a circle and had missed it entirely. He stopped then and tried to gain his bearings, but it was like being adrift on a raft in the middle of the ocean. All landmarks were obscured and the light that fell on him seemed perfectly even, sourceless, so that he had no clear idea of which way was north or south. Then a small gap opened, and he caught a brief glimpse of painted metalwork and set off in that direction as fast as his legs would take him.

By the time he reached the car, both women had abandoned it, Donatella with the handgun. But almost at once he saw the sniper's rifle lying on the floor, and reaching in, he grabbed it.

Jenny, in a position that was rapidly becoming untenable, glimpsed Bravo through the oyster-gray mist and knew what she had to do to give herself the ghost of a chance. She ran, fell, picked herself up and on uncertain legs ran again.

Donatella, stalking her, saw the logic of her flight. If Jenny could get far enough away, she would be able to slip away into the mist. The thought of losing her now was intolerable, and Donatella sprinted headlong after her. There was a dim sparking toward which Jenny had headed, and this was the way she went.

Through the thick mist she saw movement, and then a figure, lithe and slim, became briefly visible. She aimed and fired even as she continued inexorably forward. The mist swirled as if stirred by a giant hand, and once again Jenny became visible. Donatella trained her gun on her foe and was about to squeeze the trigger when she heard a voice behind her.

"Drop your gun!"

She turned back, glimpsed Braverman Shaw behind the open car door pointing the Dragunov at her. She laughed to see how amateurishly he held the weapon. He wouldn't be able to hit her, even without the fog. She could kill him with one shot to the head. This she wanted to do more than anything else, and turning fully to face him, brought the muzzle of the gun to bear on him. She could sense Ivo near her, and she spoke to him under her breath so that he would know that his revenge was at hand.