«I can't tell you. I promised.»

O'Rourke took in a deep breath and then let it out in a frustrated moan. He wasn't getting anywhere. Rielly was every bit as stubborn as his wife. Changing tactics, he asked, «Do you think it's fair to my family that Mitch has dumped this on us? He's obviously in some serious shit if he's worried about your safety.» Leaning closer to Rielly he said, «I think I know what Mitch does for a living, and this is not some game.» O'Rourke pointed to himself. «I know. I've been there. Dark-clad men, in the middle of the night with silenced weapons, making people disappear without a trace. That's why he got hold of us. There is no other reason. He's worried about your safety. Now; would you please answer my questions? I need and deserve to know what we've been involved in.»

Rielly's tears fell even harder, and she blew her nose on a tissue. «I can't. I made a promise.»

O'Rourke was getting really frustrated. Tears be damned, he pushed ahead. «Mitch wanted us to bring you here because he's afraid someone will try to get their hands on you so they can get to him. I have no problem protecting you. I love you, and Liz loves you, but for Christ sake, we're now in danger, too. If you won't answer my questions, I'm going to be forced to start digging.»

Rielly began to cry so hard she shook. Liz pulled her close and held her tight. She looked at her husband with the most disgusted expression he had ever seen. He opened his mouth to speak, but Liz stuck her hand out. «Don't say another word.»

O'Rourke stood and out of sheer frustration said, «This is a bunch of bullshit.»

A second later, Anna Rielly was up and walking across the room. «I'm sorry… I'm so sorry I got you involved in this.» She continued into the foyer and grabbed her jacket.

Liz O'Rourke was right on her heels. As she passed her six-foot-two-inch, two-hundred-fifteen-pound husband, she delivered a forearm shiver that moved him back a step.

«Anna, where do you think you're going?» shouted Liz. «I'm leaving. It's not fair to have gotten you involved in this. I made the choice to fall in love with him, not you. You shouldn't have to go through this.»

Liz grabbed her best friend by the arm and swung her back toward the stairs. Pushing her up the steps, she said, «You are staying right here until I know you're safe!» Rielly began to protest, but Liz would have none of it. She continued pushing her old college roommate up the stairs. On the fourth step, Liz stopped and glared at her husband.

Michael started to say, «I was only…»

«Don't even try to explain yourself.» snapped Liz. «I am so disappointed in you right now, I don't even want to look at you!» With that, the two women were up the stairs and gone.

Michael watched them go and then smacked himself in the forehead with the palm of his hand. On his way into the kitchen, he threw a dozen well-punctuated swear words at himself and then threw in a few more for good measure. Michael yanked the refrigerator door open and grabbed a bottle of beer. He took a big swig and leaned back against the counter. Duke came up and sat in front of him. O'Rourke looked down at the yellow Lab and said, «It's just you and me, buddy.»

After taking another gulp of beer, O'Rourke shook his head in sheer frustration. It really sucked knowing that even though you were right, you were wrong. Every single thing he had just said in the other room was right, but because they didn't like the way he said it, he was now wrong and would pay the price. O'Rourke let out a loud moan and thought, Give 'em an hour; and then go upstairs and apologize.

In the meantime, there was one thing he could do. O'Rourke walked over to the phone on the kitchen wall and grabbed it. Opening the cupboard, he glanced down a phone list until he found the right number. A short while later, a woman answered on the other end.

«Capitol Hill Police Department. How may I direct your call?»

«Watch commander, please.»

There were two clicks on the line, and then another female voice came on. «This is Sergeant Hall.»

«Sergeant, this is Congressman O'Rourke. How are you doing tonight?»

«Just fine, and you, sir?»

«Well… I just got a weird phone call. The second one in two days.»

«Did they threaten bodily harm?»

«Yeah, the standard stuff. I wouldn't bother you, but my wife is pregnant, and she doesn't need the stress right now.» O'Rourke pinched the bridge of his nose. If the watch commander only knew how true that was.

«Would you like me to have a unit check up on you throughout the night?»

«That would be great. Do you need the address?»

«Nope. I've got it right here on the screen. You're in Georgetown just off Wisconsin.» «That's correct.»

«We'll take care of it, sir. Someone will be by every hour, and if there are any more problems, don't hesitate to call.»

«I won't. Thank you, Sergeant.» O'Rourke placed the phone back in the cradle and paused. He was tempted to make another call, but considering the trouble he had already gotten himself in tonight, he decided against it. They would be safe in the house with the new security measures. Beyond that, he would sleep on the couch with Duke and his Remington 12-gauge shotgun. They would be fine for the night, and then, he hoped, tomorrow would bring more answers and less emotion.

The birds were chirping, and the sky was slowly showing signs of morning. A thin bank of clouds obscured the top of Mount Evans due west of E where he was sitting. The house was at eight thousand feet, some six thousand feet short of the mountain's summit. Scott Coleman could see why people moved here. The thick pines and aspen-laden hills, towering mountains, icy creeks, and glassy ponds enveloped one with an awesome sense of calmness. Like being in one of the great European cathedrals, you were left with the feeling that you were in the presence of the creator. Coleman was an ocean man. He had always been and always would be, but he could clearly see why others chose the mountains.

Coleman was sitting on the deck of an A-frame cabin located at the top of Prospect Drive. From his perch, he could see the Jansens' house several hundred feet below and across a large ravine. Hackett had found the cabin on the Internet. It had been a relatively simple task. First, he had legitimately accessed the Pentagon's computer network and retrieved detailed elevation maps of Evergreen. From there, Hackett located the Jansens' house and picked four streets that would offer a good position to set up surveillance. Next, he searched the local real estate and property management Web pages. It took about fifteen minutes to find the house at the top of Prospect Drive. It was listed under the Weekend Getaway section of the Evergreen Leasing and Management Company. The company specialized in helping owners rent their mountain retreats when they wouldn't be using them. Hackett had very little trouble hacking his way past die site's security measures. Once in, it took less than a minute to find that the cabin was available, and with a little more work he retrieved the combination for the lock box.

Coleman was wrapped in a camouflage sleeping bag and sitting in a deck chair with his blue baseball hat pulled down tight over his blond hair. On the table next to him was a night-vision scope and a pair of binoculars. Unfortunately; they were too far away to use the directional microphone they had brought. Stroble and Hackett were in the living room sleeping on the floor. Around eleven o'clock the previous evening, the Jansens had been dropped off by an airport shuttle van. The three former SEAU had watched them for about an hour and then settled into two-hour shifts. Coleman was in the final minutes of his 4:00-to-6:00 watch. The three men had agreed on a plan of sorts. They would see how the morning went and then phone the Jansens and give them the choice of meeting them in town for a chat or inviting them up to their house. If the latter was the case, Stroble would be positioned in a spot of his choice with his trusted and robust Galil sniper rifle.