Another long silence, then a faint, muffled conversation. Fordyce wondered if Dart was initiating a triangulation on his cell signal. It’s what he would do, if he were in Dart’s place.

When Dart finally spoke again, his voice was like black ice. “I want to know exactly where you are and what you are doing.”

Fordyce plowed ahead. “I’ve got a laptop computer belonging to a certain individual, and on this computer is a document dated six years ago that spells out the entire terrorist plan, from beginning to end. It explains everything.”

Another long silence. “The name of this individual?”

“I’ll get to that in a moment.”

“You’ll tell me right now.”

Again Fordyce moved ahead. “I’ve got the computer with me, and if you’ll give me your email address I’ll send you the document.”

“You are insubordinate, Fordyce. I want you to take Crew into custody and come in right now, with Crew in handcuffs and leg irons, or I’ll have you arrested as an accomplice.”

“Give me your email address and I’ll send you this document.” Fordyce kept his voice steady, neutral. This wasn’t a good start. God, he hoped Gideon hadn’t been right about Dart. He had to get the man to see the document.

After a long, ticking silence, Dart finally gave him the address. Fordyce typed it into the computer and mailed off the document.

He continued holding the line. They must have located his position by now. It was the chance he had to take—whatever Gideon thought, this was too big for the two of them to handle. Either Dart would believe him or not.

A minute ticked by. Two minutes.

“Did you get it?” he asked.

“Just a moment,” Dart replied. His voice sounded thick, distracted. Another minute passed. Fordyce could hear Dart’s breathing. When he came back on, his voice had changed. It was steadier, calm. “Where did you get this?”

“Off a computer owned by Simon Blaine, the novelist.”

“But…in what context?”

“It’s a proposal for a thriller.”

“Who else knows about it?”

“Just Gideon.”

“What the hell are you doing teamed up with Crew?”

“He’s the one who found it.”

“It’s obviously a fake!” Dart suddenly exploded. “Gideon fabricated this—and you fell for it hook, line, and sinker!”

“No, no, no. Impossible. It was on an encrypted computer. I broke the encryption.”

“How the devil did he get this computer?”

“It’s a long story. The important thing is, today is N-Day. Which means today is the day they’re going to steal the smallpox.”

A beat. “You actually believe this?”

“Yes. I do. I’m certain of it.”

“And you’re at Fort Detrick now?”

“You know I am.”

“My God.” Another crackling silence.

“You need to get some troops out here, sir. Right now.”

“How can I believe this?”

“You can’t afford not to. A dozen troops would secure the place. Even if it turns out to be a hoax, you surely can spare the manpower—as insurance.”

“Yes…yes. I see your logic. But… All our military assets have been moved out of Fort Detrick. There’s nobody left on the base but low-level people, civilian doorshakers and a few scientists.” A silence. “Hold the line.”

Fordyce held the line. A few minutes later Dart came back on. “We’ve got a NEST rapid response team here on the roof. They were already on standby, suited up and ready to go. They’ll be there in ten minutes by chopper. Where exactly are you?”

“In the lobby of the USAMRIID building.”

“And Crew?”

“He went down to the Level Four lab, setting himself up to ambush Blaine…” Fordyce hesitated. “Look, he doesn’t know I’ve called you. He wanted to go it alone. It wasn’t worth arguing with him.”

“Christ. All right. Listen to me carefully. I want you to get out of the building and meet the team when they arrive by chopper. They’ll land in the parking lot in front of the entrance. Don’t tell Crew—leave him alone. I don’t trust him, and he’s liable to do something unpredictable. The men I’m sending are seasoned professionals. They’ll know exactly how to handle this situation.”

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea, leaving Crew in the dark.”

“You yourself called me behind his back. You know the guy’s unreliable, a loose cannon. The team I send will have strict orders to safeguard him.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I hope to hell for your sake this is good intelligence.”

“It’s solid gold.”

“Your job is to meet the team and identify yourself. Then you’re done. They’ll secure the building and the Level Four facility, they’ll find Crew and escort him out. When Blaine arrives, he’ll be taken into custody and this whole thing will be over. If this is real intelligence.”

“You can’t take the chance it isn’t real.”

“No. I can’t.”

Fordyce was encouraged by the relief he could hear in Dart’s voice.

“We’re going to secure the smallpox in a quiet, professional way,” Dart went on. “That’s it: no shoot-’em-up, no drama. If we do it quietly, we can roll up Blaine and his people before they even know what’s happening. I’ve been against this trigger-happy approach from the beginning. You understand? No shooting.”

“Yes, sir, I agree.” Dart, for all his bluster, got it in the end. Gideon’s predictions about the man had been wrong.

And then he saw two people enter the lobby. One he recognized immediately from photos he’d seen on book jackets.

“Oh, shit,” he said softly into the phone. “Blaine just arrived. Along with a military officer.” As he stepped back into shadow, he got a glimpse of the two bars on the man’s insignia patch, Velcroed on the front of his cammos. “An army captain.”

“Jesus, if this isn’t confirmation… Stay out of sight. Don’t stop them, don’t do anything to tip them off. Just get out of the building when it’s clear and wait near the parking lot, out of sight. Are they armed?”

“The captain is carrying a sidearm. Don’t know about Blaine.”

“My God,” Dart muttered.

“What about Crew? I’m supposed to call him, tell him Blaine’s arrived.”

“No, no, no. Let’s stick with the plan. The team’s going to lift off in a moment. I’m going up there to brief them now. Let them handle it, for God’s sake. We can’t take any chances with the smallpox. Any more freelancing by Crew could be a disaster.”

And the line abruptly went dead.

Gideon was both relieved and alarmed at how effective Blaine’s plan had been at drawing off security from the lab where the smallpox was kept. With his temporary photo badge on prominent display, he had not been challenged by any of the—very few—technicians or scientists wandering about the building. The only obvious signs of security were ubiquitous cameras that peered down from the ceilings everywhere, no doubt videotaping his every movement. Were there people on the other end of the camera feeds, watching him? Under the present circumstances, Gideon doubted it. Blaine’s strategy seemed to have been brilliantly effective.

After a few wrong turns, he found his way to the entrance of the Level 4 facility. Here, a stainless-steel door sported a dramatic, multicolored biohazard symbol, along with dire warnings in a dozen languages.

He peered through the door’s tiny glass window and saw that it led, not directly into the facility, but into a sort of ready room. At the far end, he could make out an air lock and the decontamination shower that led into the facility itself. Light blue biosafety suits hung on racks, ordered by size. On one side of the room was a small staging area, with equipment, disused bioreactors, stacks of petri dishes, culture disks, and other supplies and equipment apparently on their way in or out of the lab.

He tried the door, found it unlocked, and entered the ready room. The far door leading into the air lock and shower sported its own biohazard symbol, and this was where the additional layers of security began: there was not only a keypad entry, but a card reader and retinal scanner as well. Once again, the ceiling was festooned with cameras. Good—everything would be recorded. He was going to need that when the time came for investigators to sort everything out.