"But I need to be there."

"Why not Colorado Springs? I'm thinking geography. Colorado 's on the way to California, last time I checked."

"I'm tired of chasing this asshole. I want to be ahead of him."

"What if you go to California, and the FBI nabs him in Colorado Springs?"

"I can live with that."

"I doubt it. Okay, go wherever you want to go. You're better off out of here, anyway. I'll authorize it. Use your own credit card to save time. Don't get yourself killed. You have reports to write. Beat it before I change my mind."

I said, "I'll take my partner along." "Whatever you want. You're the Golden Boy, for the moment. Hey, you watch the X-Files!" "Sure do."

"How come he's not fucking her?" "Beats me."

"Me, too." He put out his hand, and we shook. On my way out the door, he called after me, "I'm proud of you, John. You're a good cop."

Captain Stein's office felt like a breath of fresh air in 26 Federal Plaza.

I went quickly back downstairs to the ICC, aware that I could be trapped here by a phone call, or an FBI boss. I went directly to Kate's desk and said, "Let's go." I took her arm.

"Where?" " California." "Really? Now?" "Right now."

She stood. "Do I need-?" "Nothing. Just your gun and shield." "Badge. We say badge." "I say walk faster."

She kept up with me as I walked toward the elevators. She asked, "Who authorized-?" "Stein." "Okay-She thought a moment, then said, "Maybe we should go to Colorado Springs."

Maybe we should. But I didn't want an argument from my lady boss, so I said, "Stein only authorized California." "Why?"

"I don't know. I think he wants me as far away as possible."

The elevator came, we got on, and rode down to the lobby, then walked out to Broadway. I hailed a taxi, and we both got in. I said to the driver, "JFK."

We pulled out into heavy downtown traffic.

I said to Kate, "What's the news from Ventura?"

"Well, our Ventura office got Wiggins' unlisted phone number, and they called Wiggins' house while I was on the phone. They got his answering machine, but didn't leave a detailed message. They just told him to call them the minute he got the message. Then, they sent some agents to his house, which they tell me is near the beach. Then they called for reinforcements from L.A. " She added, "There are only a few people in the Ventura office."

"I hope they don't find him home and dead. What do they plan to do? Surround the house with tanks?"

"We are not as stupid as you think, John."

"That's reassuring."

"They'll check his house, interview neighbors, and, of course, lay a trap for Khalil."

I tried to picture a bunch of guys in blue suits running around a beachside neighborhood, knocking on doors and flashing Fed creds. That should cause a stampede of illegal aliens heading south. Meanwhile, if Asad Khalil was staking out the neighborhood, he might get a little suspicious. But to be fair, I wasn't sure how I'd handle this either.

I said to Kate, "Call Ventura again."

She took her cell phone and hit the buttons. The taxi was approaching the Brooklyn Bridge. I looked at my watch. It was just 3:00 P.M., noon in California. Or was it the other way around? I know it changes west of Eleventh Avenue.

Kate said into the cell phone, "This is May field. Anything new?"

She listened awhile and said, "Okay, I'm flying to LAX.

I'll call back later with my flight info. Meet me with a car at Arrivals and get me to the police helipad. Meet me with a car wherever you intend to land me in Ventura. Right. I'm authorizing it. Don't worry about it unless you don't do it. Then you have something to worry about." She hung up and looked at me. "See? I can be an arrogant asshole like you."

I smiled, then asked her, "So what's new in Ventura?"

"Well, the three available Ventura agents got to Wiggins' house, and they broke in on the possibility that he was dead inside. But he's not home. So, they're in the house, and they're using his phone book to call people where he might be or who might know where he is. If he's dead, he's not dead at home."

"Okay. He could be on a long flight."

"Gould be. He flies for a living. Could be his day off. He could be at the beach."

"How's the weather in Ventura?"

"It's always the same. Sunny and seventy-two." She added, "I put in two years with the L.A. office about three years ago."

"How'd you like it?"

"It was okay. Not as interesting as New York."

We both smiled. I asked her, "Where the hell is Ventura?"

She told me, but I didn't quite understand the geography, or all the Spanish names she was throwing around.

We were over the Brooklyn Bridge, and the cabbie got on the southbound BQE, which is the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway, and may have once moved cars in an express-like fashion, but I've never seen that, except at 3:00 A.M. I flashed the Fed creds and said to the driver, "Step on it." I always say that even when I'm not late and I don't know where I'm going.

I asked the cabbie where he was from, and he told me he was from Jordan. That was a new one. Pakistan is way ahead, but Macedonia is starting to catch up. I said to Kate, "Stein said to congratulate you."

She didn't reply.

I said, "There's an outside chance I can get back on the job-on the police force."

Again, no reply, so I changed the subject and asked her, "Where do you think Khalil is?"

" California, Colorado Springs, or in transit."

"Maybe. But maybe he only worked the East Coast where he has some assets, then he got out, maybe with the help of some Mideast embassy. California and Colorado are a long way off."

"John, this guy didn't come halfway across the world to…" She glanced at the taxi driver and said, "… to eat part of a meal. You know that."

"Right. But I'm wondering how he's getting to L.A. The airports are dangerous for him."

"The big ones are. I once had a fugitive who went from L.A. to Miami via small airports. He could have walked it faster, but he managed to give us the slip until we caught up with him in Miami."

"Right."

"And don't forget a private charter. I had a drug king once who chartered a private jet. A lot of them do that. No security points, no records of their flight, and they can go anywhere they can land."

"Maybe we should alert the local airports in the Ventura area."

"I suggested that to the Ventura office. They reminded me that there are dozens of small airports in the area, dozens more close by, and a private aircraft can land twenty-four hours a day at most of them. You'd need an army to watch every General Aviation facility, not to mention abandoned or unmanned landing fields."

"I guess." Kate seemed to know this stuff better than I did. I do cabs and subways. Half of my fugitives wind up going to their mother's house or their girlfriend's apartment or hanging around their favorite saloon. Most criminals, especially murderers, are really stupid. I like the smart ones better. They give me a little challenge and a lot of entertainment. I said to Kate, "Khalil pulled this off because of speed. Like a purse snatcher. He's no idiot, and he knows that we'd be on to his game within three, maybe four days."

"That's optimistic."

"Well, we got on to him in less than four days. Right?"

"Okay. And?"

'And… I don't know. Wiggins is either dead already, or he's someplace else. Like maybe he flew cargo to the East Coast, and Khalil knew this and nailed him already. Those agents in his house might be there for a long time waiting for Wiggins or Khalil to show up."

"Possible. You have any other ideas? You want to stay here in New York? You can go to that five o'clock meeting and listen to everyone tell you how brilliant you are."

"That's a cheap shot."

"And you don't want to miss the eight o'clock meeting tonight with Jack when he returns from Frankfurt."