He studied Tess, waiting for her reaction.

Tess took a while to answer, mustering, organizing her thoughts. 'I understand what you mean, Alan. Like you, a part of me identifies with the heretics or at least with their motives. Irresponsible corporations ought to be made accountable. Indifferent politicians ought to be removed from government. There's a global crisis, and it has to be faced, to be dealt with and solved. But murder, Alan? Extortion? Lives ruined? Families in grief? I've never supported capital punishment, although I did feel the urge to strangle the captain of the Pacific-Rim oil tanker who allowed his alcoholism to impair his judgement and capsize his tanker so its cargo polluted the Great Barrier Reef. But I've never met that captain. I don't know him. I don't know his virtues and his strengths, so it's easy enough for me to hate him from a distance. This much I do know. My friend who was burned in New York – he didn't agree with extortion and murder. And Brian Hamilton never did anything to endanger the environment. And my mother, God bless her soul, was just a simple-minded, heartsick, pampered, pathetic socialite who never did anything to harm anyone. In spite of her failings, I loved her. Deeply. When the heretics murdered her – I can still see the blood flying out of her back – just so they could try to get at me, when they did that, they made this very personal. Capital punishment? No, I don't believe in it. But revenge, Alan? After what I've been through, after the horror of the past few days, I'd like nothing better than to hunt them down and pay them back. Didn't you promise me that earlier? To help me pay them back?'

Gerrard nodded.

'So what it comes down to, Alan, is that I don't care if the heretics share my commitment to save the world. They're bastards. They're evil – in fact more evil than the evil god they believe they're fighting. They're twisted sons of bitches, and I'll do everything I can to put them in hell, which is where they belong and less than what they deserve. Maybe this planet isn't worth protecting if good gets confused with murder, and my mother dies because of that.'

Gerrard stared, then sighed. 'Of course. That's exactly what I anticipated you to say. By all means, I agree. I was just pointing out the moral complexities.' He glanced at his watch. 'It's late.' He stood. 'I'm pleased that we had this talk, but tomorrow, I have obligations to face. If you'll excuse me…'

'Yes, we're both exhausted. But before you leave,' Tess said, 'your personal assistant mentioned something about tooth brushes, an overnight kit, a shower-tub, a place to… I'm afraid I have to pee.'

Gerrard blushed. 'Our flight attendant will take care of everything you need.'

'Thanks, Alan. And it is good to see you again.'

'You're the most welcome guest I've had on Air Force Two.'

Tess waited until Gerrard disappeared through the forward door into his private cabin. Then she spoke to the flight attendant, who escorted her toward a bathroom in the rear of the plane. Ten minutes later, she re-entered the central cabin, buckled her seatbelt, and nestled next to Craig.

He was still awake. Removing his earphones from which Tess heard muted opera, Craig asked, 'How did it go?'

'Confusing. Complicated. Disturbing. But I'm too tired to… I'll tell you later.' With her head against Craig's shoulder, Tess closed her eyes and quickly fell asleep, only to waken several times, shuddering from premonitions.

SEVEN

The flight to Spain took five hours, but with the added five hours in time-zone changes, it was just before eleven a.m. when the jet reached Madrid.

Peering down at the airport, Tess was struck by how hazy the air looked. For a moment, she didn't understand why the smog should be worse here than in New York. Then she remembered that in Europe, most cars weren't equipped with emission controls, and that Spain, like the rest of the continent, still hadn't converted to the widespread use of unleaded gas. The dirtier leaded gas was fouling the sky. She instantly remembered something else – Gerrard's insistence last night on the need for international standards to protect the environment.

As the massive 747 touched down with remarkable smoothness, he noticed the airport's terminal to her right, but Air Force Two did not approach it, instead proceeded to a remote section of the tarmac, and came to a stop, the shriek of its engines dying.

Several cars rapidly flanked it, armed men scrambling out to position themselves with their backs to the jet, their assault rifles aimed outward to guard it. At the same time, a black limousine with a diplomatic flag mounted and fluttering on the side of its hood cruised toward a boarding platform that an airport crew rolled against one of the plane's forward hatches.

The occupants of the central cabin burst into motion. Unbuckling their seatbelts, Secret Service agents hurried to enter the forward compartment while the vice president's aides speedily returned to their office in the rear.

Tess and Craig crossed to the left of the plane. Curious, they peered out a window from which they saw a uniformed chauffeur open a back door on the limousine. Two distinguished-looking, gray-haired, diplomatically dressed men got out, shook hands with Gerrard's assistant, Hugh Kelly, exchanged remarks with him, braced their shoulders, and climbed the boarding steps to enter the vice president's quarters.

'And now what?' Craig wondered. Earlier, after a breakfast of fresh fruit and then smoked salmon on a whole-wheat bagel that Tess had recommended, he'd brushed his teeth, washed his face, and shaved. Even so, although he'd slept a few hours, the long flight in combination with jet lag had wearied him. He glanced down at his rumpled clothes. 'Not exactly presentable. I hope we have a chance to buy something a little more formal so we don't look conspicuous, given the company we're keeping.'

Tess squinted down at her own rumpled blouse and jeans, nodding in agreement. Mostly what she wished she had was a change of underclothes. 'I've got a suspicion that when you travel with the vice president, what you ask for, someone delivers.'

She flinched, an unexpected noise making her turn toward the forward bulkhead. The door to the vice president's cabin swung open.

Alan Gerrard appeared, wearing an immaculate gray suit, striped tie and white shirt. His black shoes had been polished to a gleam.

'So,' Gerard said. 'I hope you slept well.' He rubbed his hands together with enthusiasm. 'Are we ready?'

'To do what?' Tess asked.

'To get on another plane.'

Tess couldn't help feeling surprised. The funeral isn't here in Madrid? The president of Spain…' She frowned in confusion. 'I assumed he'd be buried with full state honors in the nation's capital.'

'Well, you're right. The funeral will be in Madrid. But it isn't scheduled until two days from now,' Gerrard said. 'I have several important diplomats to see before then, but I told the Spanish government not to tell the press that I'd be arriving today. There's something I need to do before I begin my duties. In fact, one of the diplomats I need to see, a friend from my former trips here, isn't in town. There's a strong chance that Spain's Congress of Deputies will soon elect him as the country's new president. So we're going to board a smaller, less conspicuous plane, and visit his estate. Don't look so hesitant. His home is a showplace. His hospitality is lavish. You'll enjoy yourselves. Really. With my friend's guards as well as my Secret Service agents, you'll still be well protected.'

It sounded reasonable, Tess tried to assure herself. But her heart cramped as if ice surrounded it. Bewildered, uneasy, she overcame her hesitation and followed Gerrard into his cabin. Craig put an arm around her while they waited for the vice president and the two diplomats 10 descend the stairs to the tarmac. Below, guards surrounded the group as the three men stood near the limousine and shook hands.