"Where are you going?"

"You run the money, Bill; h.e.l.l, you run the whole show at this point. If we're really under attack, I can't have my commander in imminent danger. I've got to keep you protected, and we've been in this location for a while, so it's stale. I'm worried that whoever's coming after us might figure out you're here and come for you, which would paralyze us if they were successful. I need to find a new place for us to hole up, even if it's not that far away. But I think you're better off here than with me while I look for it." Maddux hesitated. "You're not as young as you used to be, Bill. No offense."

Maddux was just being practical. Bill would only weigh him down if a battle broke out. "No offense taken," Bill replied stoically.

"I'll be back fast. There have to be other cabins around here we can use, even if it's just for a few nights. Vacation season's over."

"What about the rest of our agents, Shane? We've got to warn them right away with that 'go deep' code message we've got worked out."

"I'll send it cell-wide while I'm gone."

"They can't know it's you. Everyone thinks you're out of the picture."

"It'll be anonymous." Maddux stopped at the cabin's front door and gestured at Bill, to make sure this advice was fully appreciated. "Keep the lights out and the TV off until I get back. But if someone comes, shoot to kill and ask questions later. Understand?"

"I got it," Bill agreed as Maddux flipped off the overhead light and closed the cabin's front door tightly behind him. "I'll do exactly that." He picked up the heavy, nickel-plated revolver off the table and gazed at its silhouette in the darkness. "I just hope it makes a difference."

He eased back into the chair and let the pistol fall to his lap as he sat there in the darkness, wondering if there was another reason Maddux was leaving so quickly.

Then he wondered if he could shoot someone without fully understanding their intentions. It had been a long time since he had.

BAXTER SMILED thinly as he watched the Espinosa video on his phone one more time. As the woman's body went limp while Espinosa arched his back in ecstasy, still completely unaware of the murder that had just occurred beneath him. Baxter's smile grew wider when Espinosa finally realized the terrible truth and stumbled away from the bed awkwardly as he shouted in terror and panic, then threw his clothes on and ran from the apartment like the coward he was.

The same men who'd torn through Roger Carlson's townhouse and found the Order, as well as the list of agents, had arranged for Espinosa's young lover to die-and for the justice to be taped having s.e.x with her while she was killed. They were a small team of scarily capable men to whom he'd been introduced by an old contact at ONI. He was very glad they were on his side.

The only task they'd failed him on so far was locating Bill Jensen. But Baxter wasn't giving up hope on that yet.

He chuckled to himself as he slipped the phone back into his suit. Espinosa was exactly like the phone, thanks to that video-in his pocket.

"h.e.l.lo, Stewart."

"h.e.l.lo, Mr. President," Baxter answered respectfully, standing up as he always did when President Dorn entered the Oval Office.

He'd been waiting in here for twenty minutes, and he was mad as h.e.l.l at being kept on ice for so long. But he didn't show it. He was always the consummate professional. Even if he had been kept waiting because the president was off in some lonely corner of the White House enjoying himself with some young woman the Secret Service had arranged for him while the First Lady was still in Europe.

"How are you tonight, sir?"

"Fine, fine," Dorn replied impatiently as he eased into the leather chair behind the desk. "Any updates?"

"Yes, sir." Even though they were alone, Baxter leaned forward and spoke quietly. "Commander McCoy has already initiated her mission. Kodiak Four is operational and achieving success."

Dorn leaned forward as well and put his elbows on the desk. An intensely satisfied expression came to his face. "Oh?"

"She personally took out one of their senior leaders, a man named John Ward. Two other RC7 agents have also been killed, presumably by people she recruited."

"How do you know they were killed by others and not her?"

"Commander McCoy is in western New York State. Those other two RC7 agents were shot here in Washington and across the Atlantic in London. She's a talented young woman, sir. But I don't think even she could be in that many places at once."

"I wouldn't bet against it," Dorn said with a smug grin. "I'm not sure Commander McCoy is actually human. Not after that stunt she pulled at Camp David."

"Well, I-"

"I'm just glad I chose her for the job," the president interrupted.

Baxter muttered to himself quietly. By tomorrow morning Dorn would probably have convinced himself that he was the one who'd originally known Skylar and suggested her for this operation.

"What was that, Stewart? I didn't hear you."

"Nothing. I also wanted to-"

This time Baxter was interrupted by a knock on the Oval Office door.

"Come in," Dorn called.

An aide moved into the room, and then quickly shut the door. He shifted on his feet nervously, glancing back and forth between Baxter and the president.

"What is it, son?" Baxter asked. "You can speak freely."

Still, the young man stayed silent.

"Speak up," Dorn said impatiently. "Don't waste my time."

"We've been contacted again," he finally explained. "We've been contacted by the people who kidnapped your daughter."

"And?"

"And there will be a demand coming soon. They weren't specific, but they made it sound like they were going to require you to release certain political prisoners in exchange for the release of your daughter. They didn't name the specific individuals they want set free, but they continue to claim they won't go public as long as you cooperate."

Baxter glanced at the president. Dorn was trying hard to seem calm-but he was trying too hard. He knew the president well enough to know that the floor model's insides were churning right now like Cla.s.s 5 rapids. If this information went public, the world would know he had a daughter out of wedlock. And if he freed those political prisoners, everyone would know he could be manipulated because of that daughter.

"Is that all?" Baxter asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Then leave us. And speak nothing of this."

"I won't, sir." A moment later the young man was gone.

"Mr. President, I think we should-"

"How could you let this happen to me, Stewart?" Dorn demanded angrily.

"What are you talking about?" Baxter asked, shocked.

"How could you let me be so vulnerable?"

"Oh." Jesus. For a second there it had sounded as if Dorn was accusing him of something else. Baxter's heart had done five somersaults. "I don't understand."

"You should have had Secret Service around Shannon."

"I didn't even know about her, sir. Not until the other night, anyway. Not until she'd already been taken. I don't see how you can possibly-"

"I don't care," Dorn snapped as he stood up and headed for the door. "You are my chief of staff. You should not have let this happen to me. It is your fault, Stewart, all your fault," he called out as he slammed the door.

Baxter stared at the door for a long while. Finally, he broke into a thin smile. "f.u.c.k him."

THE ATTACK would begin in three days, starting promptly at one p.m. eastern. Sterling had communicated that to everyone an hour ago, just before they'd gone to their rooms for the night. Thankfully, there had been no dissension in the group whatsoever, no complaints or concerns at all. Everyone was ready to go and fully committed to Operation Anarchy.

The date and time certain was less than sixty-three hours away, and everything was coming together. Everyone except the secretary of state would be in Washington. Even she might be back by then, if a few things broke right.

They would stay here in Harpers Ferry through the night before, then "break camp" at six a.m. on the morning of OA, heading to Washington together en ma.s.se in a bus he'd rented from an outfit in Charles Town, West Virginia. When they got to DC, they'd split up for good, turning into lone wolves again.

They'd abandon the bus there-which, he mused, would probably go on display at some point at the Smithsonian as a memorial to the terrible tragedy. After authorities had pieced everything together and realized that the vehicle had transported all twenty-five a.s.sa.s.sins to the city.

Every channel in the world would be reporting this story. It would be the biggest of the century-maybe ever.

Sterling stood at the window of his room at the inn and stared into the darkness toward the Potomac River, which flowed quietly and invisibly past him at the bottom of the steep hill. He'd just dropped that red herring of a bomb on the White House about the swap of political prisoners for Shannon, which, of course, was total bulls.h.i.t. There would be no swap. The demand about releasing political prisoners was simply a ruse to make President Dorn believe it was a normal situation. Without a quid pro quo on the table, Dorn might become suspicious.

JENNIE PEREZ sprinted through the darkness of the Midtown Manhattan parking garage. The money she was supposed to be getting for committing her horrible deeds hadn't hit her account yet. And maybe it never would, she realized. Maybe she'd been a fool to believe them.

Of course, money had never been her primary motivation in all this. She felt bad for Karen and Little Jack, but Troy had to pay for cheating on her. And for killing Lisa Martinez. Bill Jensen had sworn to her over and over that Troy wasn't responsible for Lisa's death. Troy had, too, many times as well. But Jennie didn't believe them anymore. How could she believe anything that family claimed?

She'd seen the graphic pictures of Troy and a dark-haired woman entwined in each other's bodies. The man who'd promised to pay her for her treason had shown her so many terrible photos and told her the infidelity had taken place six weeks ago, when Troy was on a mission in Spain. She'd checked her date book, and, sure enough, Troy had gone radio silent during the exact three days the man claimed Troy had been with the woman.

The weird thing for Jennie was that she couldn't stop looking at the pictures. She kept taking each one the man handed to her and kept staring and staring as her tears flowed. Then she'd taken the next one, which was even more graphic than the last. It had been horrible, but she couldn't stop. She'd sobbed and sobbed, and her decision was made.

Jennie began to run for her car. She would take the Holland Tunnel out of the city and lose herself somewhere in this big country. She didn't care anymore if they paid her. Maybe it would be better if they didn't, now that she really thought about it. She couldn't stop thinking about what Karen and L.J. were going through. And if the money never came, she could convince herself that it had all been about pa.s.sion and nothing else.

She screamed as a dark figure stepped out from behind an Escalade. She whirled around and sprinted the other way.

Right into the strong arms of another dark figure.

"WHERE'S THE G.o.dd.a.m.n plane? I've got the handicapped b.i.t.c.h and the little brat in the van with me, and I'm getting nervous."

"Settle down."

"Don't tell me to settle down. I've probably got a million cops looking for me at this point. I'll never see the light of day again if I get caught with them."

"The cops have no idea yet. We're monitoring the situation very closely."

"Well, what's the deal? I'm tired of sitting here in this parking lot. You never know who's gonna come along and roust me."

"The plane had a small problem. They're replacing a part. It's a long flight across the Atlantic, and they've got to make sure the thing's in top condition when it takes off."

"d.a.m.n it!"

"Relax. The jet's at an airport outside Philadelphia. Once it's fixed it'll be to you in north Jersey in no time. Do you hear me? In no time."

CHAPTER 33.

"YOU CHEATED on me, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d ! I give you everything, I put up with all the s.h.i.t that comes along with being Troy Jensen's girlfriend, and then you f.u.c.k some Spanish wh.o.r.e. That's how you thank me? That's what I get for loving you as much as a woman can possibly love a man?"

"Jennie, I-"

"That's what I get for seeing you a few days a month, maybe, and getting half your attention when I do see you. For never knowing where you really are or who you're really with when you're away because everything is this huge secret with you that I can't know anything about because I can't be trusted."

"It wasn't about trust. It was about-"

"That's the thanks and the love I get in return for being completely dedicated and totally loyal to you? I hate you, Troy!"

"How did you know where I was?"

"I saw pictures of you f.u.c.king her in Barcelona," Jennie sobbed, tears welling in her eyes before spilling down her cheeks in pulsing streams. "Graphic pictures, and don't even try to deny it. I recognized you in those photos right away. How could I not? And who knows how many other women you've been s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g in the last nine months?"

"No, I meant how do you know I was in Spain?" Troy demanded, leaning down so he was face-to-face with her as she sat in the chair of the run-down, fifth-floor apartment. "That's what I need to know." The place was vacant, and the chair in the middle of the bare room was the only stick of furniture in the entire apartment. "Who told you?" he demanded. "Who's your source? Tell me, G.o.dd.a.m.n it!"

"I'm not going to tell you anything after what you've-"

"You'd better, Jennie."

"Or what?"

"Or I could let your imagination wander for a week and you still wouldn't come up with half the things I could do to make you talk."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me. I want my boy back, and I don't care what I have to do to get him, especially to the people responsible for taking him from me."

Troy was going at her hard, and Jack wanted to have compa.s.sion for Jennie. But he couldn't. She'd set up Karen and Little Jack to be kidnapped. She'd admitted that terrible truth a few minutes ago, as soon as Troy had forced her into the chair. It was as if she couldn't wait to tell him what she'd done.

They'd brought her to this run-down tenement deep in the heart of Brooklyn after grabbing her in the Manhattan parking garage. Without her knowing, Troy had programmed her cell phone at the beginning of their relationship so he could track her movements everywhere. It hadn't taken them long to catch up with her once they were in the city.

Jack would have thought Troy was paranoid for doing that to Jennie's phone-before tonight. Now he figured Troy was just being smart and careful-as it seemed his younger brother always was. Troy was an RC7 agent, and he was suspicious of everyone, because he had to be. It made Jack wonder about his own phone.

Red Cell Seven used this Brooklyn tenement as a location to interrogate, Jack a.s.sumed, or to hole up. Troy hadn't said that, but it was obvious he'd been here before. More than once, Jack was guessing from the confident way his brother had driven the SUV to this place without needing GPS or a map.

"A little bird told me you were there with that b.i.t.c.h in Spain," Jennie shot back in a quivering voice, rising up and taking a step toward the room's lone door.

Jack moved in front of it so she couldn't get out, hoping he wouldn't have to get physical with her.

He didn't have to worry. Troy pushed her back down into the chair before she got far.