“Let's hurry.”

“Don't worry.” Silver opened the car door. “I'm not going to waste any time, Kerry.”

7

It was almost five-thirty. The target should be on the move by now.

Trask's gaze narrowed on the highway some distance away. The target's Volkswagen had come to a stop and he could see the Secret Service car pull up a short distance away.

He smiled in amusement as he saw the agents get out of the car. So serious. So official. So completely inept outside their limited experience. It only made the challenge more exciting to know that they were there.

The tension was building inside him as he made a final adjustment to the dish.

Come on. Let's get to it. I'm ready. . . .

Relax.” Silver glanced sideways at her. “You're tense as a strung wire. Another fifteen minutes.”

She glanced at the eastern sky. It was brighter, more gray than black now. “You're sure George let everyone know to be on the alert?”

“What do you think? George isn't someone who makes mistakes. Kimble's bodyguards knew we were coming.”

He was right. She didn't believe George would be careless or take anything for granted, but it didn't keep her nerves from screaming. Panic had been growing since she had left Kimble's house. Dammit, she felt so helpless. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was the Kimble place.”

“Do you want to go back?”

“Yes. No. I don't know. But this doesn't feel . . . right.”

“What doesn't feel right?”

“I don't know.” She moistened her lips. “Perhaps I'm just tired.”

“Are you sensing anything?”

“No. I'm blank. Maybe that contact with Trask was a fluke. Maybe I interpreted it wrong. Maybe I'll always be blank to him from now on.” She shook her head. “Just hurry up and get there. Okay?”

“Okay.” He was silent a moment. “But I don't think you should doubt yourself. First impressions are usually the true ones, in my experience.”

“Well, I don't have any experience to go by,” she said fiercely. “I could only tell you what I felt. He wanted a kill and he was going to get it. He was hurting and furious with me and he was glad he was— Oh, my God.” She sat bolt upright in the seat. “Christ in heaven.”

“What?”

“It's a woman. The target is a woman.” Her lips were trembling. “It has to be Joyce Fairchild.”

“Why?”

“He wanted me, but it was going to be okay. Substitution. Another woman instead of me. Don't you see? That would please the child.”

“You're beginning to sound like him. You never mentioned a woman target.”

“Don't you think I know that? He never consciously thought of her as a woman. She was a target. I only got impressions of water and that it was going to be all right that he couldn't give me to the child to burn. The target wasn't going to be perfect, but it might be close.”

“Water. Her place isn't on the water.”

“Dammit. I don't care. Turn around and go to . . .” She tried to remember. “. . . Fredericksburg. Isn't that where she lives?”

He nodded as he looked for a turnoff. “Get on my cell phone and call George. He's in my directory. Tell him to check with her guards to make sure she's still okay.”

The target was running down the path toward him.

She was running fast, smoothly, seemingly covering the ground with no effort. But then, Joyce had always been a runner. He could remember when the rest of them had pulled all-nighters at the lab, she'd insist on breaking for her morning run. She said it cleared her head and increased her creativity.

Stupid bitch. She didn't know the meaning of creativity. She'd ridden on his coattails for the entire project. But that wouldn't prevent her from taking credit and whatever else she could steal.

But he could prevent her from doing it.

Joyce Fairchild goes for a run in Tyler Park every morning,” George said curtly when he called Kerry back. “She's there now. Agent Ledbruk is in charge of the security arrangements and he's on his way. I've told them you're coming and to tell his men to go after her and bring her back.”

“Call us when they have her safe,” Kerry said, and hung up. She turned to Silver. “She's in Tyler Park. She's a runner. They're trying to bring her back. How long until we can get there?”

“Ten minutes.”

She was beginning to feel the burn, Joyce thought as she increased her pace. In a moment she'd be in that place where running was pure euphoria.

The burn. Her lips curved in amusement. So many everyday phrases had to do with fire, and this was one she loved. Every muscle of her body felt stretched and alive, and the wind on her cheeks was like a brisk caress. Like a mother's gentle chastisement of a beloved child.

Child. That was what that nut Trask had always called Firestorm. His child. His creation. No credit to anyone else. Bastard.

Was someone calling her name?

It was those Secret Service agents who trailed her. They were probably upset because she was leaving them in the dust. She'd slow and let them catch up soon. But not now. Not yet.

Her lungs had stopped hurting. Her head was crystal clear.

Just a few more steps and she'd reach the burn.

She was there!

She could feel it explode inside her.

No. Pain.

Something was wrong. . . .

Oh, God,” Kerry whispered.

The road bordering Tyler Park was jammed with vehicles. Silver pulled in behind an EMT truck and jumped out of the car. Kerry was already out the passenger door and running toward the path, where she could see a cluster of men and women gathered.

“Wait.” Silver caught up with her.

“Wait for what?” she said fiercely. “It's probably already too late. Do you want me to—”

“Stop right there.” A tall young man in a navy jogging suit stepped before them. “This is as far as you go. Get back to the road.”

“Brad Silver. And this is Kerry Murphy.” He glanced at the ID tag on the man's jacket. “Agent Ledbruk. We had George Tarwick contact you.”

“Identification.”

Silver handed him his wallet.

Ledbruk scrutinized the ID carefully before handing it back.

“For Christ's sake, what happened?” Kerry asked.

Ledbruk looked beyond her. “Son of a bitch, the media are arriving already. How the hell did they find out so soon?” He called to another agent a few yards away. “Keep them out of the area until we can get that body out of here. I was hoping to have this under wraps before—”

“What happened?” Kerry said through her teeth. “What body?”

“You're with the fire department? Come on. Maybe you can tell me.” He turned and started down the path. “Damnedest thing I ever saw. And I never want to see anything like it again. We were running after Fairchild trying to stop her. Stubborn woman. We told her that it would be hard to protect her on these morning runs, but she was arrogant as hell. She said if we did our job she'd be safe. We tried, dammit. We sent agents over her route every day to make sure there were no snipers. But it's seven miles of wooded terrain. Too easy to miss someone. But she wouldn't listen. The park was her favorite run and she was—”

“Water,” Kerry said numbly.

“What?”

Kerry's gaze was on the narrow trickling brook that had suddenly appeared as they turned a bend. “The path runs beside a stream. Water.”

“So?”

Brad's hand was beneath her arm. “Just a comment, Agent Ledbruk. She's an arson investigator, and naturally she—”

“Jesus, that smell.” Kerry's eyes closed as waves of sickness washed over her. “I can't—”

“You don't have to go any farther,” Silver said. “Stay here and I'll—”

“No.” Her eyes opened and she drew a deep breath. She started up the path again. “What happened to Joyce Fairchild, Agent Ledbruk?”