"We didn't run," Mordecai corrected. "We vanished like ghosts into the night."

"Correction noted," Lathe said dryly. "End of story."

"Ah," Judas said, sitting down at the table and trying to study Lathe's face without looking obvious about it. Galway and Haberdae were convinced that Lathe and the others had no idea that Caine was imprisoned inside the strongpoint where they'd carried out their carjacking. But it was Judas's life on the line here, not theirs. "So you just grabbed a car off the street?"

With a sigh, Lathe laid down the knife he'd been sharpening and turned his full attention to Judas. "I had Spadafora watch Haberdae the night they tried to grab us. Just on spec—I thought he might go into Khorstron and that we'd get to see the entry procedure. Instead, he went up to a base in the Deerline Mountains. It seemed an intriguingly out-of-the-way place, so I told him to stay put and clear the entry for us."

"You mean knock out the sensors?"

"Right," Lathe said. "There wasn't any more traffic up there until this evening, when who should show up but our old friend Galway. Mordecai and I got there before he left, gimmicked his fuel line to kill the car about a klick away, where we jumped him and his escort. Would you also like to know what all of them were wearing?"

"Security gray-green, I'd guess," Judas said, a little annoyance pushing through his relief that his cover was still secure. There was no need for Lathe to be patronizing about this. "I'm sorry if my need to know is getting in your way."

Lathe grimaced. "No, I'm sorry," he apologized. "With Shaw and a whole group of blackcollars to work with, I guess I've fallen back into the old routine of communication and command structure. It doesn't leave much space for outsiders, I'm afraid."

"I understand," Judas said. "I just don't like being left out of things, that's all."

"Don't worry," Lathe assured him. "From now on, you'll be completely in the loop."

"Or the noose," Mordecai murmured.

Lathe nodded heavily. "Sometimes, there's not a lot of difference."

"Right here," Bailey said, pointing to the replay of the spotter track. "You see it?"

"I don't see anything," Ramirez said, leaning a little closer. "Okay, so the van slows down a little. That's a very twisty road."

"It doesn't just slow down a little," Bailey countered, looking at the two Ryqril still standing their silent vigil at the status boards. "It slows down a lot. And the road isn't that twisty right there. More importantly, it slows down just as it passes under this nice, convenient cluster of trees."

"But why get off there?" Ramirez objected. "There's still a long way to go before the van reaches Shelter Valley."

"Only Shelter Valley isn't the target, is it?" Bailey reminded him tartly. "I'm telling you, they're gone. If we wait until the van pulls into town, we're going to come up dry."

"And if we start sending spotters swooping around with sensor disks, we're going to spook them for sure," Ramirez countered.

"Colonel 'Ailey is correct," Daasaa spoke up, his tone leaving no room for argument or appeal. "The

'lackcollars ha' le't the 'ehicle."

"But there's no IR track that shows anyone leaving that area, Your Eminences," Ramirez argued, gesturing at the sensor map.

"Because they stayed under the trees until the van had drawn the spotters' attention away from the area,"

Bailey said.

"Yae are tracking now?" Halaak demanded.

"We have a half-dozen spotters waiting your orders," Bailey said. "If the blackcollars are out there, we'll find them."

Daasaa and Halaak looked at each other, and it wasn't difficult for Bailey to read their thoughts. If this was just another subtly drawn blackcollar diversion, moving that many spotters into the mountains would leave Athena that much more open to attack.

But it was a risk Bailey was willing to take. The blackcollars were out there. He was sure of it.

"What i' they ha' already gone underground?" Halaak asked. "Re should nove in and take the 'an now."

"But if we do that and the driver's in contact with Skyler's team, we'll spook them," Bailey pointed out.

"Again, yae are correct," Daasaa said, looking at Halaak. "Re rill not yet take the 'an." He turned back to Bailey. "Yae nay launch yaer s'otters."

"As you command, Your Eminence." Bailey gestured to the spotter officer. "Spotters away," he ordered.

"Yes, sir." The other touched a key. "Spotters away."

The minutes ticked slowly by. Bailey listened to the low murmur of conversation in the situation room, one hand tapping restlessly against the side of his leg. He was right about this. He knew he was right.

But if he wasn't ...

"There," one of the techs said suddenly, pointing at the display. "Four human IR signatures moving south-southwest."

"Only four?" Ramirez asked.

"The fifth must be driving the van," Bailey said.

"Then it is tine," Daasaa declared. "Assen'le yaer tean, Colonel 'Ailey. Re nust 'e ready ren they reach their goal."

"The team is ready now, Your Eminence," Bailey said. "And I have a Groundhopper transport standing ready."

Daasaa tilted his head slightly to the side. "A Groundho'er carries only trel'e 'assengers."

"Your pardon, Your Eminence, but there are only twelve of us," Bailey said, quickly running the numbers through his head again. "There are the three techs, the six Security men, you and Khassq Warrior Halaak, and me."

"And General 'Oirot," Daasaa said. He shifted his gaze— "And Lieutenant Ranirez."

Bailey looked at Ramirez, seeing his own surprise mirrored in the other's face. Poirot, for his part, merely looked thoughtful. "I was planning to leave Lieutenant Ramirez here to coordinate the operation," he said carefully. "And I thought General Poirot was still under suspicion."

"Yae are all under sus'icion," Halaak said, his eyes glittering. "That is 'recisely rhy yae are all coning."

"It is tine to 'ind out who the true traitor is," Daasaa said, his voice ominous. "Gather yaer tean, Colonel

'Ailey. It is tine tae go."

"You sure you know where we're going?" Hawking puffed as Skyler led them to the crest of yet another wooded hill.

"Absolutely," Skyler assured him, glancing up at the drifting clouds visible between the leafy branches overhead. "Another half klick, tops."

"That's what you said half a klick ago," O'Hara murmured, just loudly enough for Skyler to hear.

"Half a klick ago I said it was a whole klick," Skyler corrected. "Try to pay attention, will you?"

O'Hara muttered something not quite seditious about the decline in the standards of blackcollar leadership. Skyler responded in equally facetious kind, and the two of them fell silent.

Flynn didn't join in the banter. He'd hardly slept last night, despite the heavy activity of the previous day, thoughts of Jensen's plans and fate swirling unpleasantly through his mind.

Which, on one level, was rather surprising to him. He'd had his share of training exercises with Jensen back on Plinry, of course, and had found the man to be a competent if somewhat distant instructor. He'd also sat in on many a late-night bull session where Jensen's state of mind had been dissected in minute and low-fact detail.

But until this mission he hadn't actually known very much about the man. Even now, after a couple of days of tromping the Rocky Mountain wilderness together, he knew he hadn't even scratched the other's paint. But at the same time, those days had created some kind of bond of understanding and respect between them, something completely intangible but just as definitely real.

Flynn didn't want to see Jensen sacrifice himself. Not even if such a sacrifice made a point to the Ryqril.