And he clearly wasn't seeing the brown Lexus behind them.

Silver had gotten in.

She let out a deep sigh of relief. “I was just trying to save you from making a mistake. I won't waste my breath.” She forced herself not to look at the mirror again. “Where are you taking me?”

“Into the country.”

“Where?”

He scowled. “I can't tell you. Trask wants it to be a big surprise. Stupid . . .”

She smelled the smoke first. Harsh, acrid, evoking a hundred nightmare memories.

Her heart leapt. Had that bastard already turned Firestorm loose on Jason?

“Get Trask on the phone, Dickens.”

Dickens shook his head. “The place is right around the bend up there.”

“Then hurry up, dammit.”

“Don't give me orders.” He glared at her. “I'm tired of everyone telling me what to do.”

She barely heard him. They were already going around the curve in the road and she saw the fire.

A large barn down the road, burning, blazing, devoured, and devouring.

Anguish tore through her. Jason. “Let me out.”

“Do what you please.” Dickens had pulled up in front of a farmhouse. “I've done my part.”

She threw open the door and jumped out of the car. The intense heat struck her as she started at a run for the barn.

“He's not there, Kerry.”

She whirled to face the man who'd spoken behind her.

Trask had come out of the house and was standing on the front porch. There was no mistaking him. The childlike blue eyes staring at her were the same as the ones she'd seen in his photo. The reflection of the fire lit his amused smile as he started down the steps. “You keep thinking I'd cheat myself by being too impatient. After waiting all this time I want to enjoy every nuance.”

She ignored everything but that first sentence. “Jason's not in that barn?”

“No. I even turned the livestock out of their cozy home. I merely wanted to light a beacon to welcome you.”

And scare the hell out of her, she thought bitterly. “Where is he?”

He jerked his head toward the house. “In a room upstairs with his father. They're so affectionate I knew they'd want to be together.”

“I'm going now,” Dickens said as his foot pressed on the accelerator. “I'm supposed to meet Ki Yong down the road to get my final payment.”

“By all means.” Trask didn't look away from Kerry as Dickens drove away. “Though he may have a surprise,” he murmured. “I doubt if Ki Yong is going to be prepared to pay him off. He'll probably prefer to rid himself of a potential witness in a more lethal manner.”

“Good. I don't care about Dickens. I want to see Jason.”

“You will.” His gaze returned to the burning barn. “But I want you to look at my fire first. I've gone to a great deal of trouble, and I want to savor it with you.”

Her gaze followed his to the flames. “I'm supposed to appreciate this destruction?”

“Maybe not. All you see is a shell with no true meaning.” He smiled. “But it's not as empty as you think.”

She went rigid. “You told me Jason wasn't in there. You said he was upstairs. And that you let the livestock out.”

“Oh, I certainly did. But I couldn't insult Firestorm by not providing the fuel it deserves.”

“What did you do, you son of a bitch? Who's in there?”

He chuckled. “The owner of this farm and his wife. But don't worry, they felt no pain tonight. I was forced to dispose of them last night. I couldn't chance them causing me any problems.” He shook his head. “Too bad. The effect would have been much more powerful on you if I'd been able to provide you with a little serving of hors d'oeuvres before the feast.”

Horror chilled her. She closed her eyes. Fight it. Fight him. She wouldn't have a hope of controlling him if she was this frightened.

She opened her eyes. “I don't want to see you cremate those poor people. That idea is as sick as you are. Take me to see Jason.”

He frowned. “You're disappointing me.” Then his expression cleared. “But I shouldn't be surprised. I expected a battle. Do you recognize this house?”

“Why should I? I've never seen it before.”

“True. But the Bartlett pear trees? The river?”

She had not even noticed the river in back of the barn. Something stirred in her memory. “What are trying to tell me?”

“I gave Dickens an old newspaper photo of the Krazky house and told him to find one similar.”

“Why?”

“Because that was probably the most thrilling kill I've ever made. The first time is always special, isn't it? And it means even more to me since that moment when I watched you looking at the ruins of that prick's house and suddenly realized how close we were.” He took a step closer and she could see the tenseness of his muscles, the excitement glittering in his eyes. “Look at the fire again and let yourself open to it. Doesn't it excite you?”

“No. Take me to Jason.”

He hesitated. “Very well.” He turned away. “End of Act One, and no applause. But it's early yet. I'll do better.” He started up the porch steps. “Come along. We'll reunite you with your family.”

She dared a quick glance down the road as she climbed the steps. She'd seen no sign of the Lexus since a mile or so before she'd smelled the smoke of the burning barn.

Don't panic. Naturally Silver and George wouldn't let any of the guards watching the place see them.

But, God, she felt alone.

There he goes,” George murmured as Dickens's car drove past the stand of trees where they'd parked. “Should we take him out now?”

“No. He's on his way to get his payoff. We may need to use him to get to Ki Yong.”

“Wouldn't it be better to put him out of action? We don't know how long this business is going to take.”

“No.” Silver was quickly drawing lines on the pages of his notebook. “He's already out of action.”

George looked at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“I had to damage him to get the information I needed,” he said absently as he put four crosses on his page. “He's brain-dead.”

George shook his head. “He's driving that car.”

“No, I'm driving that car. And I'd better park it so that I can concentrate on something besides Dickens.”

“Christ.”

Silver glanced at him. “You don't believe me?”

“I do believe you. That's what's scary. Did the CIA know you could do stuff like this?”

“No. Do you think I'm an idiot? I gave them what I wanted to give them. Information is one thing, mind control is another. They'd either try to use me as a tool or consider me a threat they couldn't handle. Probably the latter. I'd have a sanction on me within a few months.”

“So when you park his car and withdraw from Dickens, he dies?”

“Not right now. I'll leave a few tendrils to keep his vital signs going. We may need him later.”

“I don't believe I like the idea of using a”—George searched for a word—“zombie. I'd rather trust myself. If you don't mind, I'll take care of whatever you'd planned for Dickens.”

“Suit yourself.”

“I will.” He looked down at the page on which Silver was writing. “Tell me about the crosses.”

“One guard on the riverbank behind the barn to keep an eye out for boats.” He pointed to another cross. “A sniper with a Springfield behind the shed at the rear of the house.” He pointed to the third cross. “This sentry is a half mile ahead, guarding the road to the farmhouse.”

“And the last one?”

“Ki Yong and his driver. He's waiting ten miles from here for Trask to finish his party so that he can whisk him off to the airport to board his plane to Pyongyang.”

“You found out all that from Dickens?”

He shrugged. “It wasn't easy. Otherwise I might not have had to damage him.” His lips tightened. “But I probably would have done it anyway.” He looked down at the map. “We have to move. Which target do you want to take first? The one guarding the road?”

George nodded as he opened the car door and got out. “And the one on the riverbank. You get the sniper. Then we both go for Trask.”