"Anything else?"

"Not unless we can locate Rachel Kirby," Finley said grimly. "I have an idea that she's in more trouble than she realizes."

CAIRO, EGYPT

"I'm not saying anything more, Polk," Tavak said. "I've told you I didn't breach any U.S. security. That wasn't my agenda. I'm no terrorist." He looked the CIA agent directly in the eye. "And you know it. This interrogation has been bullshit." He glanced at Nuri sitting on a chair across from him. "If you'd really believed I was a threat, you wouldn't be letting these mercenaries hold me. My ass would be on the way to Langley."

"You're in no position to refuse anything," James Polk said sourly. "You're in deep trouble. Blowing up a tomb, destroying precious artifacts."

"My, my. And yet all you can ask about is my hacking expertise. I find that interesting." He shook his head. "But not interesting enough to make me answer any more questions. Go back to whoever sent you and tell them to do whatever they want. I never give something for nothing, particularly information." He turned his back on the agent. "Nuri, will you show this gentleman out?"

Nuri chuckled. "It's only one room. I think he can find his way."

Tavak heard a muttered curse from Polk, then the slam of the door.

"You made him angry," Nuri said. "Better you than me. The CIA makes me nervous. I like everything straight and clear. I never know what the CIA's going to do."

"Neither do I. Then I take it that you're not working for the CIA?"

"I work for Nizam. That way, he's the one who has to worry."

"Sounds like a good arrangement." Tavak restlessly paced the length of the windowless ten-foot-by-twelve-foot room. He had been blindfolded before they even left the tomb site and taken to what appeared to be a single-family home. As in much of Cairo, there were sounds of heavy traffic outside. He smelled strong citrus and cabbage odors wafting from the other side of the room's only door.

He turned to Nuri, who was leaning back in a small chair. "How much longer do I have to stay here?"

Nuri took a bite from a large, juicy date. "Difficult to say. We have our instructions."

"Instructions from whom?"

"I assumed you would know, Mr. Tavak. Do you have so many friends who would go to such trouble for you? Would you like some dates? They're quite tasty."

"No, thanks. I want to see Ben Leonard."

"He's in a hospital five minutes from here. The last I heard, he was doing quite well. As soon as we have clearance, I will take you there myself."

"Clearance? Great. Dammit, you've kept me here for the last eight hours. Why? What are we waiting for?"

Nuri smiled. "I realize that you were hoping to get back to the tomb. You thought this Dawson might return, and you wanted to do painful and lethal harm to your enemy. I understand revenge. I approve of it. But you must understand that we must do what we must to make a living."

"I only understand that Dawson and his men are free and had all the time in the world to go back and examine that mural. While I'm still under lock and key."

"Very sad." Nuri patted his shoulder-holstered firearm. "And with an armed guard. Quite ironic. That's the word, isn't it? 'Ironic'?"

"That's the word, all right."

"You're lucky the CIA didn't turn over the interrogations to our local officials. They are not bound by your human-rights laws."

"The CIA always has its own agenda, and evidently having me tortured or beheaded wasn't on the current one."

Nuri beamed. "That's very good news."

"Better news if you'd let me go."

"It would be my pleasure. But unfortunately, you'll be here until at least tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"You are to have another visitor. A young woman. She's on her way from the U.S." He tilted his head. "You're smiling. Is this pleasing to you?"

"It could be. Intriguing anyway."

"I think her name is Kirby."

Tavak started to laugh.

"Is something funny?"

"No. Not at all." It was what he had expected. Through the anger and frustration he had felt at not being able to go after Dawson, there had also been the underlying impatience to confront Rachel Kirby. He realized that he had been almost disappointed that Rachel had not put in an appearance yet. Now he could feel a tingle of eagerness and exhilaration surge through him. "There's nothing funny about Rachel Kirby. The interrogation I got at the hands of that CIA agent will be child's play compared to the treatment I'll get from her."

Nuri's gaze narrowed on his face. "But you look forward to it." He smiled. "I think you're a very strange man, John Tavak."

* * *

"He won't talk," Polk said, when Norton picked up the phone. "And I'm not about to pressure him any more than I have already. Have your own agency do your dirty work. I've done a cover-up on the explosion at the tomb, and that's going to be dicey enough for us to manage. The Egyptian government isn't fond of people destroying their treasures. They need those tombs for tourist revenue."

"I didn't have anyone on-site," Norton said. "And I promise you'll get a return favor when you need it."

"You'd better. We're too busy to run around and plug your damn security leaks." Polk paused, then said maliciously, "What a pity the NSA data files are so unsecured that a hacker can breeze right in and screw you."

Norton wanted to hang up on the bastard. If there had been any other way to tap Tavak for information before Rachel Kirby got there, he would have done it in a heartbeat. And it had been for nothing. Now he owed this CIA bastard, and he would probably take it out of Norton's blood. "It wasn't our computer, and evidently Tavak is fairly remarkable."

"I don't know about that, but the son of a bitch is cold as an iceberg," Polk said. "And he told me to go back to whoever sent me and tell them he never gives something for nothing. So I'm telling you. Go after him yourself." He hung up.

Norton muttered a curse beneath his breath. Polk didn't realize how much he wanted to go after Tavak. Tavak had been able to break into that computer, and that was a prize beyond belief. If he had Tavak's information, he'd be able to control Rachel Kirby. God, he hated the idea of that bitch being able to call the shots.

But he would have to put up with it for a little longer. He could be patient. Let Rachel Kirby handle Tavak and dig the information out of him. Polk had called him an iceberg and Kirby had all the force of a Titanic waiting to happen. He'd just give them a chance to collide and destroy each other.

* * *

Rachel's phone rang as she was leaving Cairo customs.

Simon.

"What have you got for me, Simon?" she asked when she picked up.

"John Tavak, age thirty-eight, unmarried, no children. Born to an affluent upper-class family; father Randolph Tavak, stockbroker, mother Nancy Carter Tavak, socialite, jet-setter. Only child."

"And this is the son of a bitch who stole my processing cycles?"

"Almost certainly. Because it turns out Tavak is something of a phenomenon. He was a child prodigy whose IQ couldn't even be measured. He was taking classes at Harvard by the age of ten. His teachers said with proper guidance and encouragement, he could be another Einstein. His problem-solving ability was astonishing." He paused. "Infiltrating Jonesy and stealing our cycles must have been a piece of cake for him."