“Maybe. But I think I’m going to set another goal for you. How about another million by this time next year? I’ve been crunching numbers and reading some interesting stuff on Moldovan bonds. And there’s this new Brazilian company making hybrid cars. I’m going to make you so much money, you’ll figure it’s ridiculous keeping that job of yours and you’ll quit and do something that won’t get you killed.”

Perfect opening. “Hey Jake, about that getting killed stuff…”

“What?” Jake’s voice rose with tension, all humor gone. “What? Are you in trouble? Goddamn you, Nick, how many times have I told you—”

“Can it, Jake,” Nick said wearily. Jesus, what had he got married for, when Jake did the nagging wife thing so well? “I’m not in danger.” Yet. “What I am is married. I think.”

“You think? Jesus, Nick, you think you’re married? That’s like being a little bit pregnant. What the hell’s going on?”

The promise of that slate gray sky was kept. Snow started falling in earnest, thick white sheets dropping out of the sky, reducing visibility to just a couple of feet beyond his front fender. Even he had to pay some attention here. He put his cell on the dashboard and switched to speakerphone.

“Listen, I don’t have time to explain. I want to change my will. I’m going to disinherit you. You okay with that?”

His first day in the army, when he had exactly $10.75 to his name, when asked about next of kin and asked to make out a will, he’d put down Jake as his next of kin and beneficiary. Over the years, as he renewed his will, that hadn’t changed. Jake had power of attorney over his affairs and was his heir.

If Jake didn’t inherit all Nick’s worldly possessions, even if they topped an unlikely million bucks, it wouldn’t make any difference at all to Jake. What was a million bucks to him? Walking around money, that’s what it was.

“Hell.” It wasn’t the thought of losing Nick’s money that made Jake’s voice so somber. “You’re in trouble, Nick. I can feel it. Something really bad is coming down and you’re right in the middle. Oh my God. Oh shit. Oh fuck. I just flashed on your funeral. Fuck this, fuck whatever you’re doing. Wherever you are, get out now!”

Jake’s voice rose with anxiety.

A trickle of sweat ran down Nick’s back. Jake’s hunches were good, almost as good as his. Jake was a genius at crunching numbers, but his incredible success was also due to the way he could sniff trouble coming and could slalom his way out of it, fast. As the Wall Street Journal said, “Jacob Weiss’s hedge fund, JLW, has demonstrated a sixth sense for emerging markets and, in today’s volatile world, an even more useful sense for tanking markets. JLW has the golden touch—it knows, to the day, when to abandon ship.”

When Jake talked, markets listened. More to the point, when Jake talked, Nick listened. Ordinarily, when Jake said jump, Nick answered how high? He couldn’t bail now, though. There was no way out now but straight through the heart of trouble.

Nick didn’t even try to snow Jake. He was too smart to swallow false reassurances. “Whatever’s coming down, Jake, I’ll deal. You know me. I’m harder to kill than a cockroach. But there’s a new element now. A…a woman. I…married her.” The words were hard to get out. They sounded surreal and false. He was married. He wasn’t married.

Yes, he was. No, he wasn’t.

This was messing with his head.

Concentrate.

It didn’t make a lick of difference if he was married or not. What was important was to settle his affairs right now so he could face the showdown that was coming with a clear head.

“Yeah? About time.” Jake’s nanny gene rose to the fore. He’d been nagging Nick to get married for almost ten years now. “About time you tied the knot, you idiot. I don’t know what you were waiting for, hell to freeze over? So tell me that means you’re going to settle down, find yourself a job that won’t get you killed—”

It was Jake’s favorite rant and Nick was tempted to zone out and let him get it off his chest for the billionth time. But he wanted to drive as fast as he could to the van and the weather was worsening with every passing minute. The snow had let up a little, but the temperature was dropping and ice was building up. He needed to pay attention to the road. These conditions tried even his driving skills.

“Can it.” Nick fought the wheel as a sharp, strong blast of wind rocked the vehicle. “Listen, I’m tight for time, so I can’t explain the whole situation. Believe me when I say it’s…complex. All you need to know is that one Nicholas Ames—that would be me—married one Charity Prewitt a couple of hours ago.” He gave Charity’s full name—which turned out to be Charity Prudence Prewitt. He had smiled at that and the smile had earned him a poke in the ribs from her sharp little elbow. He gave Jake DOB, SSN, and address. “If something happens to me, you’ll know.” Jake was the only person on the government “To Be Notified in Case of Death” form. “Can I change my will on the phone? Right now? I want her to be my sole beneficiary. Sorry, Jake. When I kick the bucket, Marja’s going to have to do without her fiftieth fur coat.”

“She’ll live,” was Jake’s wry reply.

“Okay—so now I really need to know whether I can legally do this over the phone. This is a formal request to you. You have power of attorney. I want to change my will and make Charity P. Prewitt my sole beneficiary. Is that possible right now?”

Clacking in the background. Nick waited patiently, wrestling the wheel, trying to concentrate on the road.

“Done. Let me read it out to you.”

Jake read out the new will, which was identical to the old one except for the date, the name of the beneficiary, and an addendum to the effect that Jacob Weiss, who had power of attorney over Nick Ireland’s affairs, recognized Ireland’s voice and was willing to swear an oath in court to that effect. “I’ll get that notarized, just to be on the safe side. Soon.”

“Now,” Nick said.

Silence. Jake processed that. “Okay, I’m leaving the office right now. There’s a very grateful notary on Lexington who bought himself a vacation home in Tuscany with what JLW earned him, so he owes me. I’ll get this notarized within the hour, Nick. That’s a promise.”

Nick knew it was as good as done.

“Thanks, buddy.” Nick felt an overwhelming sense of relief, as if a granite block he didn’t know was on his back had been lifted. “I owe you. Big time.”

“Pay me back by staying alive.”

“Do my best and thanks.”

Nick hit the Off button and devoted all his attention to the road. Though it was early in the afternoon, the sky was almost black. The few cars he passed on the road all had their headlights on and were driving at twenty miles an hour, feeling their way over the roads rather than driving their way along.

The surveillance van was only twenty-five miles away, but there was a dangerous patch of road that wound in hairpin turns up a steep hill. It would be hairy with ice on the road. He wanted to get there, fight with Di Stefano and Alexei and get back before sundown.

Most of his head was taken up with negotiating the turns, but what remained of his hard disk was focused on Charity, and on what he was going to do to her when he finally got back to her.

Tonight was going to be probably the closest he would ever come to having a wedding night, and he was going to make the most of it. He had no intention of sleeping tonight. They were going to fuck all night long, punctuated only by food and wine and maybe the odd shower or two.

Nick was shaken out of those pleasant thoughts by a sharp jolt. Instantly back in combat mode, he checked the rearview mirror and saw high headlights coming closer, close enough to ram him again.

It was only now that he realized his subconscious had noticed the black SUV all along. He’d simply put it down to some nervous driver following another driver on a night of bad visibility.