Kate, who has a better moral compass than I, said, "There's no justification to goad people into murdering anyone. We don't have to act like monsters to fight monsters." She added, "This is wrong."

Ted, wisely, did not go into a big justification of his pet plan to clip Colonel Moammar Gadhafi. He said to Kate, "Believe me, we struggled with this question and put it before the ethics committee."

I almost laughed. "Are you on that committee? And by the way, what are the ethics of you joining up with the ATTF in order to advance your own game plan? And how the hell did I wind up working with you?"

"I requested it. I really admire your talents and your perseverance. In fact, you nearly stopped Khalil from escaping at the airport. I told you, if you want to work for us, there's a job available. You, too, Kate."

I replied, "We'll talk it over with our spiritual advisors. Okay, gotta go, Ted. Great meeting."

"Just one or two more things."

"Okay, shoot." Bad choice of words.

"I wanted to tell you I enjoyed that joke. The one you told at the meeting about the Attorney General. Edward passed that on to me. There's a lot of truth in jokes. The FBI would call a big press conference, as they're doing this afternoon in Washington. My company doesn't like press conferences."

"Hey, I'm with you."

"And the CIA would make the rabbit a double agent." He smiled. "That was funny. Also, very prescient in this case."

"I hear you. And don't forget what the cops would do, Ted. They'd beat the shit out of that bear until he confessed to being a rabbit. Right?"

"I'm sure they would. But that doesn't make the bear a rabbit."

"It's only important that the bear says he's a rabbit. And while we're at it, double agents work only for themselves. Are we through here?"

"Almost. I just want to remind you both that this conversation never took place." He looked at Kate and said, "It's very important that Asad Khalil go back to Libya."

Kate replied, "No, it's not. It's important that he stand trial for murder in the U.S."

Ted said to me, "I think you understand."

"Am I going to argue with a guy who's holding a high-powered rifle?"

Ted informed me, "I'm not threatening either of you. Don't be melodramatic."

"Sorry. It's this X-Files thing. TV is rotting my brain. It used to be Mission Impossible. Okay, that's it. See ya."

"I really wouldn't walk back to the ranch house now. Khalil is still out there, and you two are sitting ducks."

"Ted, if it's a choice between staying here with you, or dodging sniper bullets, guess what?"

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

I didn't reply, but turned and walked away, as did Kate.

Ted called out, "Oh, congratulations on your engagement. Invite me to the wedding."

My back was still to him, and I waved. Funny thing, I wouldn't mind inviting him to the wedding. The man was a monumental prick, but when all was said and done, he was our prick-he really wanted to do what was best for the country. Scary. But I understood, which was also scary.

We kept walking down this slope away from the VORTAC station. I didn't know if I was going to get a bullet in the back from Ted, or a bullet in the front from Khalil in the treeline at the foot of the slope.

We kept walking, and I could tell that Kate was tense. I said, "It's okay. Just whistle."

"My mouth is dry."

"Hum."

"I feel sick to my stomach."

Uh-oh. "Like morning-"

"John, stop with the jokes. This is just… sickening. Do you understand what he's done?"

"They play a rough and dangerous game, Kate. Judge not lest you be judged."

"People were murdered

"I don't want to talk about it now. Okay?"

She shook her head.

We found a riding path, which cut through an expanse of red rocks and thick bush. I was hoping to run into a motorized patrol, or a stationary post, but there's never a Secret Service agent around when you need one.

The sky was much lighter now, and a soft breeze from the sea started to move the ground fog away. Not good.

We walked in the direction of where we thought the ranch house and Secret Service building were, but the trails seemed to twist and turn a lot, and I wasn't sure where the hell we were.

Kate said, "I think we're lost. My feet hurt. I'm tired and thirsty."

"Let's sit awhile."

We sat on a flat rock and rested. There was strange vegetation here, like probably sagebrush, tumbleweed, and all that cowboy stuff. The brush was thick, but not very tall and not tall enough to provide good concealment when we walked. It occurred to me that we might be better off staying put. I said to Kate, "Assuming Khalil is out there, then he's probably within two hundred yards of the ranch house. So maybe we don't want to get too close to the house or the Secret Service place."

"Good thought. We'll stay here so Khalil can kill us without disturbing anyone else."

"I'm just trying to outthink this guy."

"Well, think about this-maybe he's not going to kill us. Maybe he's going to put a few rounds through our legs, then walk over to us, and cut your tongue out, then slit your throat."

"I see you've given this some thought. Thank you for sharing that."

"Sorry." She yawned. "Anyway, we have our pistols, and I won't let him take you alive." She laughed, but it was sort of an emotionally and physically exhausted kind of laugh.

"Get some rest."

About ten minutes later, I heard this vaguely familiar sound and recognized it as helicopter blades beating the air.

I stood on the rock on which I'd been sitting and hopped onto a nearby four-foot-high boulder and faced the sound. I said, "The cavalry has arrived. Air cavalry. Wow. Look at that."

"What?" She stood, but I put my hand on her shoulder and pressed her down. "Just sit. I'll tell you what's going on."

"I can see for myself." She stood on the rock on which she'd been sitting, grabbed my arm, and pulled herself up beside me on the boulder. We both looked toward the helicopters. There were six Hueys circling a few hundred yards away, and I guessed they were circling over the ranch house, so we were close, and we knew what direction to walk.

I now noticed a huge twin-engine Chinook helicopter corning over the horizon, and slung under the Chinook was an automobile-a big, black Lincoln.

Kate said, "That must be an armored vehicle."

"Stagecoach," I reminded her. "Six Hollys with Hercules personnel, flying cover over Brimstone while Rawhide and Rainbow get into the Stagecoach. Tracker and Tracer on the ground. Donner, Blitzen, and Rudolph on the way."

She let out a sigh of relief, or maybe exasperation.

We watched for a few minutes as the operation unfolded, and though we couldn't see what was happening on the ground, it was obvious that Rawhide and Rainbow were now headed down Pennsylvania Avenue in an armored car, with escort vehicles and the choppers overhead. Mission accomplished.

Asad Khalil, if he was anywhere around, could see this, too, of course, and if he was still wearing his phony mustache, he was right now twirling the ends and saying, "Curses, foiled again!"

So, all's well that ends well. Right?

Not quite. I had the thought that Asad Khalil, having missed the big one, would now settle for the little one.

But before I did anything about that thought, like get off that boulder and into the bushes to wait for help, Asad Khalil switched targets.