"Perfect. You've been a real hero, Drew. I can't imagine what it must be like to have to walk away from your job."

"I'm certainly hoping to get it back."

"As long as we keep you safe from those transmitters, I'm sure you will."

"Speaking of heroes, you've been one, too… and more. You've been a hell of a friend, Gabe. Better than I deserve."

What an odd thing to say, Gabe thought.

"Nonsense," he said. "Go reassure Carol that you're okay and I'm not a madman. Then I want to show you where Ye Olde Royal Physician has decreed you'll be spending the night."

"I already think I know."

For another minute, the two remained immersed in the noisy silence of the forest, trying to wrap their minds around the enormity of what they had just accomplished. Finally, Stoddard motioned Gabe to stay nearby and called his wife. In just a couple of minutes, he passed the phone over.

"You really think someone on our staff is behind this, Gabe?" Carol Stoddard asked.

"I think someone who regularly gets physically close to Drew is involved. That's the most I can say."

"And you think Lily is-was-involved, too?"

"I'm sure of it. I saw firsthand evidence when I was at her place, and Jim Ferendelli told me himself before he… was killed."

"But… but Lily was one of my dearest friends-like family."

"I'm sorry, Carol."

"And you think she was murdered, too?"

"I do. Alive she was a threat to someone. Once I discovered the laboratory tunnel from her place, she became a loose end."

"Gabe, this is an awful lot for me to digest."

"I understand. It would be for me, too, if I hadn't seen it all. Meet me tomorrow at Lily's farm at, say, noon, with the warrants and the men we need, and you'll see for yourself. For the moment, Drew is safe, and that's all that matters. I suspect we can keep him safe for another twenty-four or even thirty-six hours if we need to, but it's just a matter of time before someone figures out where we are. I'd rather get this business moving and over before anyone has time to react."

Gabe waited until the First Lady had nothing left to say, and then, mouthing the words I don't know, passed the phone back to her husband.

"I love you, sweetheart," Stoddard said. "Believe me, Gabe has done an amazing piece of work for us. You'll see."

Gabe felt certain that whatever Carol Stoddard said wasn't a ringing endorsement of his theories or their actions.

"Thank you, honey," Stoddard replied. "Thanks for trusting us this much. When you speak to the boys, just tell them I'm safe and I love them. Nothing else, though. Okay?… Okay?" He put the phone away and turned to Gabe. "That tunnel to the nanobot factory better be where you say it is, or like Ricky Ricardo says to Lucy, we're gonna have some 'splainin' to do."

The two men entered The Aerie.

"You're planning on putting me in the bunker downstairs, aren't you?" Drew said.

"Whoever murdered Jim and Lily and has been doing this to you is remorseless and resourceful. If anything goes wrong, I want you safe, that's all. I cleaned the place up last night."

Whoever murdered Jim and Lily…

The words reopened his fears regarding Alison. As soon as things were resolved tomorrow, he vowed to spend every minute searching for her for as long as it took.

"I think it's overkill," Stoddard said. "We pulled it off, Gabe. We kidnapped me right from under the nose of everyone. Now, how about a room with a view?"

"There are posters on the wall of the bunker."

"God, but I hate taking orders."

"Probably not as much as I dislike giving them. We've come this far, Mr. President. Let's not risk screwing everything up by getting complacent. Your safety is what this is all about."

Stoddard sighed and allowed himself to be escorted downstairs to the bunker.

During the minutes that followed, Gabe felt himself hit a wall. The adrenaline rush of their escape was still churning, but it was merging with an intense exhaustion that his body had probably been storing up for days. It was a tribute to eleven-hundred-dollar boots that he was barely aware of having been in them, walking and riding, since early that morning. He trudged up the spiral stone staircase of the West Tower, hauling along the backpack of supplies that had served him so well.

The high-ceilinged circular bedroom was cool and comfortable. Gabe slipped off his boots, lay on the bed, and awaited the return of his exhaustion by flipping through the pages of a three-year-old copy of Field & Stream. A trout-fishing-in-the-Tetons article made him profoundly homesick, and he decided it would be worth petitioning the president for a replacement as soon as the warrants were handed out and the arrests began. Although they had never spoken about it, he strongly suspected that Alison would love pulling on a pair of waders and stepping into a crystal Wyoming river, fly rod in hand.

It was nearly midnight when he finally set the magazine aside and headed for the bathroom. On the way, the spiral metal staircase leading up to the battlements caught his eye, and suddenly he wanted one last view of the magnificent panorama that had contributed to giving the castle its name. Not bothering with his boots, he climbed up and opened the heavy door leading outside.

The sky was somewhat overcast, but the view from the tower might have been fifty miles on a clear day. He was looking mostly out to the distant west and north, although there was nearly a 360-degree panorama available. It was almost by chance that he gazed directly downward when he did. There, past the moat, at the edge of the forest, he saw a figure moving furtively among the trees.

In an instant, any fatigue he was feeling vanished.

"Stop right there!" he called out. "I can see you and I have a gun!"

His words seemed to be swallowed by the night.

Below, the figure vanished into the forest.

Then, from Gabe's right, he saw a second shadow, moving parallel to the first.

These weren't kids looking for mischief. Every fiber in his being said that whoever was down there was trouble.

For a minute, Gabe continued peering through the dark. Then he raced down the staircase, pulled on his boots, and crossed to the door. He was about to open it when he glanced down at his backpack. He removed the hunting knife and slipped on the pack with its rope and collection of tools.

Then, hefting the knife in his hand, he slipped out of the bedroom and moved cautiously, silently, down the stone staircase.

CHAPTER 62

It had been stupid to yell out from the tower the way he had. Absolutely stupid.

Hunting knife in hand, Gabe reprimanded himself as he cautiously descended to the main floor.

What now?

He tried without success to get his brain around the answer to who could have found them within just six hours. Drew's belief that few, if any, outside his immediate family knew of The Aerie had to have been misguided. Someone else knew and had put the pieces together. Gabe had heard that of all the investigative services, including the CIA and FBI, the Secret Service was the most resourceful, efficient, and imaginative. It wouldn't surprise him to learn that The Aerie was in one of their files, along with its history and maybe even some blueprints.

Hopefully, Secret Service agents were the ones who were laying siege to the castle right now. In truth, although Gabe had chosen to suspect anyone and everyone as betraying Drew, the president's protective detachment would have been the ones he trusted first. One thing Gabe was certain of-the forms outside weren't his mind playing tricks. He envisioned a Secret Service SWAT team, or the equivalent, silently positioning themselves in the night.