The gun was smashed out of his grip and spun away across the room. A moment later, the sound of a supersonic rifle shot reached him from outside the open end of the station.

Clutching his hand, Chase looked for the shooter. No sign of anyone, just the dam stretching away across the valley. He threw himself into a roll to make himself a more difficult target, diving for his fallen gun.

Even before he reached it, he saw that it was a pointless move. A hole had been blown straight through the Steyr just above the trigger, severing the linkage to the hammer and rendering the weapon completely useless. Whoever had shot the gun from his hand was either unbelievably lucky-or an almost supernaturally skilled sniper.

Chase changed tactics. He had no weapons-and there was only one thing in the station that could protect him from a high-velocity rifle bullet.

He leaped back the way he had come-and landed behind the kneeling Sophia. Right hand going numb from the shock of impact, he clamped his left around her throat. “Get up!” he snarled, pulling her to her feet.

“Eddie!” she shrieked, genuine fear in her voice.

“Whoever’s out there, tell him to stand down!” Chase ordered, dragging her around to act as a human shield. “I know he can see you-tell him!”

“If you hurt me, he’ll kill you!”

“If he doesn’t stand down, I’ll kill you!”

Neither of them moved, statue still for an eternal two seconds. Then: “You won’t,” said Sophia, voice choked but recovering her former arrogance. “You couldn’t. I know you too well-”

Chase squeezed her throat tighter, cutting her off. “You killed Mac. You killed Nina. Give me one good reason why I should let you live.”

“Didn’t-kill-Nina,” she rasped.

“What?” He eased his grip, very slightly.

“She’s not dead. Yet.”

His hand tightened again. “Nor are you. Yet.”

“Phone,” Sophia managed to whisper, reaching into a pocket. “Show-you…”

Chase’s right hand still had enough sensation left in it for him to tell that she was indeed taking out a phone rather than a knife or a gun. He eased the pressure on her throat a little. “Go on.”

She held up the phone and thumbed the touch screen, which lit up. Another couple of pushes, and she entered the photo album. There was only one stored image.

Even from the little thumbnail of the picture Chase knew who it was, but that didn’t stop a horrible chill of fear hitting him when Sophia zoomed it to fill the screen.

Nina.

Face grazed, mouth stuffed with a gag, eyes wide in fear. She was lying on her back, red hair strewn out across the floor like a splatter of blood.

“If anything happens to me,” Sophia hissed, “she dies. Don’t imagine for a moment that I won’t do it. I just killed my own husband-your parvenue ginger fuck-toy means nothing to me. Now, let go.” Chase didn’t move. “Let go, Eddie. You fought to the end-but this is the end. The fight’s over. You lost.”

With a snarl of fury and anguish, Chase pulled his hand from her neck. Sophia stepped away, giving him a sour sneer of triumph as she rubbed her throat. “Kneel down, Eddie. Hands behind your head. We don’t want to give my friend out there a reason to blow off a limb or two, do we?”

Chase reluctantly got to his knees, looking across the dam-and for the first time saw the sniper. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but be impressed by his enemy’s shooting skills. The man, a silhouette against the pale gray of the dam, stood on a viewing platform halfway across the structure, at least four hundred yards away. Just scoring a hit on a person from that distance was an achievement in itself; hitting a pinpoint target on that person was the stuff of a world-class marksman.

Sophia dialed a number and raised her phone. “I have it,” she said. “I need someone to come and pick me up, though-there’s been a spot of bother with my ex-husband.” She listened to a surprised question from the other end of the line, then smiled. “No, the other one. Don’t worry, Joe’s got him covered. Just get the car here. Quick as you can, thank you.”

She disconnected, then walked to Chase, taking care not to cross the line of fire. “This actually works out rather well,” she said. “I wasn’t sure how I was going to make that whiny little Yank tart do what I need her to do, but now that I’ve got you, well…”

“I dunno,” said Chase, forcing himself to stay calm and not rise to her bait. “The way things were between us when I left her, she’ll probably be glad to see the back of me.”

Sophia smirked. “Nice try. But I could tell how she really felt about you-and how you felt about her. I knew you wouldn’t risk anything happening to her. She’ll do the same for you. Just because somebody drives you mad doesn’t mean you don’t care deeply for them.”

“What would you know about caring for anybody?” Chase demanded. The jab worked, her face hardening. She turned and walked away, leaving Chase pinned in the sniper’s sights until a car pulled up outside and more of her men entered the station.

Lying on a bench, Chase looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps. The cellar he was in wasn’t precisely a cell, but it was windowless, the thick door securely locked. He knew from the brief occasions over the past day when they had opened it to give him food and water that there were at least two of Sophia’s men on guard outside.

One of the sets of footsteps belonged to Sophia. The click of her high heels, the strutting, impatient pace… he remembered them well. So he wasn’t the least bit surprised when the door opened to reveal her, with an armed man at her side. It was the sniper from the dam, a dark-skinned, muscular giant wearing a black leather waistcoat, rows of silver piercings running back over his bald head.

“Hello, Eddie,” said Sophia. Sultry, confident, back in command.

“Hi, bitch-face.”

She pouted. “Really, Eddie. There’s no need to be childish. Not when I’m about to reunite you with your beloved.”

He sat up. “Is she all right?”

“Of course she is! I need her to do something for me, something which requires a clear head, so it would be counterproductive to hurt her. For now, anyway.” She smiled a little at the implied threat; her companion, on the other hand, treated Chase to a malevolent beaming grin, revealing a diamond set into one of his teeth. “By the way, I don’t believe I’ve introduced my friend. Eddie, this is Joe Komosa. My guardian angel, so to speak. And yours too.”

“I’ve been watching you for some time,” said Komosa, flashing his glinting smile again.

“You were the guy in Botswana,” Chase said, remembering the figure he’d briefly seen through the skylight. “At the crusher, you shot the guards.”

“I couldn’t very well let Nina die when I still needed her, could I?” explained Sophia. “And I needed you to get her out of the mine safely. I didn’t expect you to get all the way to London, though! As for parachuting into the factory… It’s a good job I’d planted that tracker on you, or we would never have known you were coming. Still, it all worked out for the best.”

“Except for Dick,” Chase said sarcastically.

“Not all marriages have a fairy-tale ending. As you know. But on the bright side, he left everything to me in his will.”

“I think that you murdering him might sort of invalidate it.”

Sophia laughed. “But I didn’t kill him, Eddie! You did!”

Chase stood up sharply, prompting Komosa to raise his gun. “What?”

“In a fit of jealous rage. It’s quite romantic, actually, in a twisted way. You were so overcome with fury when you found out I’d married Richard that you chased him to two different countries in an attempt to kill him and win me back. At least, that’s what the witnesses to his death will say, once I choose them. And of course, it’ll be a huge embarrassment to the IHA, especially after you assassinated that Botswanan minister. Which,” she added, “was entirely Richard’s doing. I had no part in that… but again, it worked out for the best. After losing that rig at Atlantis as well, I wouldn’t be surprised if the U.N. decides to cut its losses and disband the entire agency.”