get it from their own sources, and, B, their mucking about in the bush would jeopardize

the inroads we’ve made.”

“You’re right about that,” Hart said. “They’re about as subtle as an elephant in

Manhattan.”

Soraya hunched forward. “The point is the group planning the attack is unknown to us.

That means we don’t know their motivation, their mind-set, their methodology.”

Two men came in, one after the other. They were dressed as civilians, but their military

bearing gave them away. They were seated at separate tables on opposite sides of the

restaurant.

“NSA,” Hart said.

Soraya frowned. “Why would NSA be shadowing us?”

“I’ll tell you in a minute. Let’s continue with what’s most immediately pressing. You

mean we’re dealing with a complete unknown, an unaffiliated terrorist organization that

is capable of planning a large-scale attack? That sounds far-fetched.”

“Imagine how it’ll sound to your directorate heads. Plus, our operatives have

determined that keeping our information secret is the only way to get more intel. The

moment this group catches wind of our mobilizing they’ll postpone the operation for

another time.”

“Assuming the current time frame is correct, could they abort or postpone at this late

stage?”

“We couldn’t, that’s for sure.” Soraya gave her a sardonic smile. “But terrorist

networks have no infrastructure or bureaucracy to slow them down, so who knows? Part

of the difficulty in locating them and taking them down is their infinite flexibility. This superior methodology is what Martin wanted for Typhon. That’s my mandate.”

The waiter took their half-eaten salads away. A moment later, their main courses

arrived. Hart asked for another bottle of mineral water. Her mouth was dry. Now she had

NSA on one side, an off-the-grid terrorist organization about to carry out an attack on a

large East Coast building on the other. Scylla and Charybdis. Either one could wreck her

career at CI before it even began. She couldn’t allow that to happen. She wouldn’t.

“Excuse me a moment,” she said, getting up.

Soraya scanned the restaurant, but kept at least one of the agents in her peripheral

vision. She saw him tense when the DCI went off to the ladies’ room. He had risen and

was making his way toward the rear when Hart returned. He reversed course, sat back

down.

When the DCI had settled herself in her chair she looked Soraya in the eye. “Since you

decided to deliver this intel here instead of the office I assume you have a specific idea as to how to proceed.”

“Listen,” Soraya said, “we have a red-hot situation, and we don’t have enough intel to

mobilize, let alone act. We have less than a week to find out everything on this terrorist

organization based God only knows where with who knows how many members.

“This isn’t the time or place for the usual protocols. They’re not going to avail us

anything.” She glanced down at her fish as if it were the last thing she wanted to put in

her mouth. When her gaze rose again, she said, “We need Jason Bourne to find this

terrorist group. We’ll take care of the rest.”

Hart looked at her as if she were out of her mind. “Out of the question.”

“Given the urgency of the mission,” Soraya said, “he’s the only one who has a chance

of finding them and stopping them.”

“I wouldn’t last a day in the job once it got out that I was using Jason Bourne.”

“On the other hand,” Soraya said, “if you don’t follow through on this intel, if this

group executes their attack, you’ll be out of CI before you can catch your breath.”

Hart sat back, produced a short laugh. “You really are a piece of work. You want me to

authorize the use of a rogue agent-a man who’s unstable at best, who many powerful

people in this organization feel is dangerous to CI in particular-for a mission that could

have dire consequences for this country, for the continuation of CI as you and I know it?”

A jolt of anxiety ran down Soraya’s spine. “Wait a minute, back that up. What do you

mean the continuation of CI as we know it?”

Hart glanced from one of the NSA agents to the other. Then she expelled a deep breath

and told Soraya everything that had happened from the moment she’d been summoned

into the Oval Office to meet with the president and had found herself confronting Luther

LaValle and General Kendall.

“After I managed to prevail with the president, LaValle accosted me outside for a

chat,” Hart concluded. “He told me that if I didn’t play nice with him he’d come after me

with everything he has. He wants to take over CI, Soraya, wants it as part of his ever-

enlarging intelligence services domain. But it isn’t just LaValle we’re fighting, it’s his

boss, the secretary of defense. The plan is Bud Halliday’s through and through. Black

River had some dealings with him when I was there, none of them pleasant. If he

succeeds in bringing CI into the Pentagon fold, you can be sure the military will come in,

ruin everything with their usual war-like mentality.”

“Then there’s even more reason to let me bring Jason in for this.” Soraya’s voice had

taken on added urgency. “He’ll get the job done where a company of agents can’t.

Believe me, I’ve worked with him in the field twice. Whatever’s said about him within

CI is totally false. Sure, lifers like Rob Batt hate his guts, why wouldn’t they? Bourne’s

got a freedom they wish they had. Plus, he’s got abilities they never dreamed of.”

“Soraya, it’s been implied in several evaluations that you once had an affair with

Bourne. Please tell me the truth-I need to know if you’re being swayed by anything other

than what you think will be best for the country and for CI.”

Soraya knew this was coming and was prepared. “I thought Martin had laid that office

scuttlebutt to rest. There’s absolutely no truth to it. We became friends when I was chief

of station in Odessa. That was a long time ago; he doesn’t remember. When he came

back last year to rescue Martin he had no idea who I was.”

“Last year you were in the field with him again.”

“We work well together. That’s all,” Soraya said firmly.

Hart was still clandestinely watching the NSA agents. “Even if I thought what you

were proposing would work, he’d never consent. From everything I’ve read and heard

since coming to CI, he hates the organization.”

“True enough,” Soraya said. “But once he understands the nature of the threat I think I

can convince him to sign on one more time.”

Hart shook her head. “I don’t know. Even talking to him is a damn huge gamble, one

I’m not sure I’m willing to take.”

“Director, if you don’t seize this opportunity, you’ll never be able to. It’ll be too late.”

Still, Hart was unsure which direction to take: the tried and true or the unorthodox. No,

she thought, not unorthodox, insane.

“I think this place has outlived its usefulness,” she said abruptly. She signaled the

waiter. “Soraya, I believe you have to powder your nose. And while you’re there, please

call the Metro DC Police. Use the pay phone; it’s in working order, I checked. Tell Metro

that there are two armed men at this restaurant. Then come right back to the table and be

ready to move quickly.”

Soraya gave her a small conspiratorial smile, then rose, threading her way back to the

ladies’ room. The waiter approached the table, frowning.

“Is there something wrong with the brook trout, ma’am?”

“It’s fine,” Hart said.

As the waiter gathered up the plates Hart took out five twenty-dollar bills, slipped them

in his pocket. “You see that man over there, the one with the wide face and football