He saw George Haddad, then McCollum.

“Get down,” he said to Pam, and he raised his weapon.

McCollum saw him and shoved Haddad to the ground, aiming across the chamber and firing. Malone dropped to the floor, using the shelves between them for cover. The bullet dinged off the granite columns behind him.

“You move fast,” McCollum said from across the room.

“Didn’t want you to be lonely.”

“The Librarian kept me company.”

“You and him get to know each other?”

“He talks too much, but he knows this place.”

He wanted to know, “What now?”

“Afraid you and the ex have to die.”

“I told you that you shouldn’t get on my bad side.”

“Bring it on, Malone. I’ve come this far, I don’t plan to lose now. Tell you what, let’s make it a fair game. Me against you. Right here. If you win, the old man and the ex are safe. Deal?”

“You’re making the terms. Act on them.”

HADDAD LISTENED TO THE EXCHANGE BETWEEN SABRE AND Malone. These two needed to settle their differences, and he needed to repay his debt. He thought again about the Guardian from all those decades ago when the young man had stared up at him with eyes full of resolve. He simply hadn’t understood. But now, having seen the library, having become its Librarian, he knew what that fateful soul from 1948 knew.

He’d killed that good man for no reason.

And regretted it all his life.

“STAND UP,” SABRE SAID TO THE LIBRARIAN, AND HE WATCHED as the old man rose. “All right, Malone. I’m acting. Here he comes.” He motioned with the gun. “Go.”

The Librarian walked slowly down the aisle between the diagonal bins. Sabre held his position, crouched behind the end of one of the rows.

Thirty feet away the Librarian stopped and turned.

The eyes that stared back penetrated him. He wondered about the old man. Something about him signaled danger, as if the soul behind the eyes had faced this scenario before and was not afraid. He debated killing the Librarian, but that might spur Malone on.

And that he did not want to do.

Not yet.

Malone was the only obstacle left. Once gone, the library was his.

So he was relieved when the old man finally walked away.

EIGHTY-ONE

WASHINGTON, DC

STEPHANIE PARKED DOWN THE STREET FROM LARRY DALEY’S house, and she and Cassiopeia walked the remainder of the way. No sign of Brent Green or anyone else. They approached the front door, where Cassiopeia again picked the locks and Stephanie disarmed the alarm. She noticed that the pass code had not changed. Daley had left it alone, even after they’d gained entrance. Either foolishness or more evidence that she’d misjudged the man.

The interior was quiet. Cassiopeia swept each room to make sure they were alone. Stephanie made a stop in the office alcove where they’d found the flash drives. Then they both waited by the front door.

Ten minutes later a car parked outside.

Stephanie peered past the curtains and saw Green emerge from behind the wheel and walk toward the front door.

Alone.

She nodded at Cassiopeia, then opened the door.

Green was dressed in his typical dark suit and tie. Once the attorney general was inside, she closed and locked the door. Cassiopeia took up a position near one of the windows.

“All right, Stephanie. Can you tell me what’s happening?”

“Did you bring the flash drives?”

He reached into his jacket pocket and removed them.

“You listen to the recordings?”

He nodded. “Of course. The conversations are interesting, but in no way incriminating. There’s talk of the Twenty-fifth Amendment, but it’s just that. Talk. Certainly no conspiracy is either discussed or implied.”

“That’s why Daley gathered more,” she said. “He told me that he’s been looking at this for some time.”

“Looking at what?”

And she noticed a flare of irritation.

“The conspiracy, Brent. The vice president is planning on killing Daniels. He’s set the whole thing up to happen during a surprise visit Daniels will make next week to Afghanistan.” She watched as the words, which would confirm that she knew what she was talking about, took hold.

Green remained stoic. “What proof did Daley find?”

“More conversations. He actually bugged the VP’s private office. Not all that hard, since he was the one charged with making sure it wasn’t being monitored. Seems the VP is connected to the Order of the Golden Fleece. Its head, Alfred Hermann, has arranged for the president’s plane to be missile-attacked. Made the deal with bin Laden’s people himself.”

“Stephanie, I hope Daley amassed some impressive proof. Those are incredible charges.”

“You said the whole administration was a cesspool. You said you wanted to get them. Here’s your chance.”

“How do we prove this?”

“The recordings are here. Daley told me about them. He said they indicated everyone who’s involved. We were leaving to drive back here when the car exploded.”

Green stood in the foyer before the stairway where Daley and Heather Dixon had been yesterday. He seemed deep in thought. His game face. Of course, though the man had lied to her about Thorvaldsen, and he hadn’t passed along to the president anything that Henrik had discovered, they needed concrete proof of his treachery.

“I know where he hid the recordings,” she said.

Finally Green’s eyes communicated interest. Cassiopeia stayed near the window, out of the way.

Stephanie led Green to the office alcove with the small desk and narrow bookshelves. One shelf held a row of CDs in their plastic cases. The music was all instrumental and from a variety of nations, even some Gregorian chants, which she found curious. She reached for one of the cases-Tibetan Wonders-and opened it. Inside, instead of the music CD, another disk filled the case. She popped it from the holder and said, “He liked to hide his stuff close by.”

“What exactly is on there?”

“He says it’s proof of who’s part of this conspiracy. He said it reached to a level no one would ever suspect.” Her nerves throbbed with excitement. “Want to listen?”

Green said nothing.

“Why’d you leak the Alexandria Link file?” she asked.

“I told you. To find the traitor. It led us several places. That’s how we discovered the Israeli connection to Pam Malone. Leaking that file set everything in motion.”

“And you had access?”

“Why the questions, Stephanie?”

“Because I was unaware you even knew about the Alexandria Link, much less knew enough details about it to think it would be bait for Israel.”

Green cocked his head sideways in a quizzical fashion. “This is unexpected. A cross-examination.”

She wasn’t going to cut him any slack. Not now. “When we first talked about all this, you made it clear that you leaked the file on purpose, that it contained little other than a reference that Malone knew where George Haddad lived. Yet you specifically mentioned the Abrahamic covenant. How did you know?”

“The file wasn’t all that secret.”

“Really? That’s not what Daley said. He insisted the information inside it was sparse and relatively unknown outside a handful of top people.” She laced her words with insolence. “You weren’t on the list. Yet you knew an awful lot.”

Green stepped from the alcove and made his way back toward the den.

She followed.

Cassiopeia was gone.

Stephanie glanced around, concerned.

“My associates took care of her,” Green said.

She did not like the sound of that. “And who takes care of me?”

Green reached beneath his jacket and produced a gun. “I have that duty. But I needed to speak with you alone first.”

“To see how much I know? How much Cassiopeia knows? And who else knows?”

“I doubt you have help. After all, Stephanie, you aren’t the best-liked person in this government. Daley tried to latch on to you, but that didn’t work out.”