"How about at his clue, Alliant Industries in Calverton."

She found the address in her notes and entered it into the GPS unit on the dashboard. "Do you have any idea what we're looking for?"

"What we always look for, those wonderful little failed attempts to hide the truth-anomalies."

When he offered no further specifics, she said, "These anomalies, any idea what form they might take?"

"Not a clue. I was just hoping that being philosophically vague would impress you into quiet contemplation."

"I'm a little surprised that you're still trying to impress me."

Vail couldn't tell whether the comment was meant to be sarcastic or whether she was offering some sort of truce. "Just because I can be an idiot, that doesn't mean you're not worth impressing. Who knows, maybe I could change."

"If you did, you'd probably bore me to death."

"Do you know why male moths fly so close to the flame of a candle?" he said mischievously, knowing she would object to any more moth references.

"Oh, so you are are trying to bore me to death." trying to bore me to death."

"The flame gives off a vibrational frequency similar to the female moth's pheromone. The male moth is powerfully attracted to it, even though it's extremely dangerous."

"In other words, even setting yourselves on fire won't deter you guys."

"I'm here, driving into who-knows-what, if that answers your question."

"You want me to tell you what I think? I think you're bored right now and hoping you'll drive into exactly 'who-knows-what.' "

For the next three hours, they traced the route the Russian engineer had taken through Virginia, stopping where he had, according to the Bureau charts. Each time, Kate would get out and take photos of everything in sight, making notes about the corresponding locations. Halfway back, they found a diner and he pulled in.

Inside, they sat in a booth, and after the waitress had taken their orders, Kate asked, "Well, any anomalies?"

"Not yet. But I want to spend some time with everything back at the off-site. Kind of let it all percolate a little."

"It sounds like you want to be alone."

"You're welcome to stick around, but a lot of it is going to be just busywork-printing out photos, matching them with the maps and timelines. I'm not sure you want to spend your evening like that. By morning I'll have everything a little more organized and we'll be able to figure out what our next move is."

"So in the morning there won't be an article in the paper about you breaking into the Russian embassy or involved in a shooting somewhere?"

"I can't make any promises about the embassy, but you have my word I'll never get involved in a shoot-out without you."

"In that case I'm going to go home, get out a pad of paper and a pencil, and retrace my life as far back as I have to, to try to determine what seemingly innocuous, small turn in my life caused it to intersect with yours."

"You know, there's an old Chinese proverb that says if you try to learn the source of your good fortune, you will destroy it."

"What I know is that if the Chinese actually do believe that, it's because they've never met you."

The next morning Kate let herself into the off-site and could smell coffee brewing as she started up the stairs. She found that Vail had pushed all the furniture away from the longest wall in the room and had taped up all the photos from the day before. Below them were the time-place maps that had guided their trip.

"Did you get any sleep?" she asked.

"Enough. Did you eat?"

"I just need some coffee."

"I think it's done. Grab a cup and let's go."

"Where to?"

"Pollock's bank in Calverton."

"For?"

"I want to look at his account records."

"For?"

Vail pointed at the wall. "Remember where we stopped in Denton?"

"I'd have to look at the photos." She stepped closer to the wall.

"It's a small intersection. There's nothing there but that house."

She looked at the photo of a small, white wood-frame structure pinned to the wall.

"According to the map, Calculus was there for about two and a half hours at night. None of his other stops were anywhere near that long."

"Wait a minute. How do you know which bank is Pollock's?"

"It's in his security-clearance investigation."

"And how do his bank records tie in?"

"If he visited his bank within twenty-four hours of Calculus's stop at that house, then I think there's a good chance that Pollock made an exchange with his handler there and Calculus recorded it. So the next day Pollock would have to deposit the money, unless he keeps it under his mattress."

"Does that mean we're going to let the assistant director-or anyone else-in on this?"

"Not yet."

"Then how are you going to get bank records without some sort of court order?"

"With this." Vail held up a standard information-release form filled out and signed by Pollock.

"Where did you get that?"

"We did a background investigation on him, didn't we? And isn't part of that process for him to sign information releases?"

"How did you get into his file?"

"You let me watch your hands when you logged into the Bureau database yesterday, so I thought you were giving me your password."

She just shook her head. "But Pollock's background was almost five years ago. Those forms would be out of date." She looked closer. "It's dated a week ago."

"A little Wite-Out, a copying machine, and everything's up to date in Kansas City."

"You'll have to excuse me if I seem a little slow. I've been back here for six months, you know, following the law and stuff. Throws a girl off."

An hour later Vail pulled up to the Denton Savings and Loan. "Since you're apparently too chicken to violate both the national banking laws and the Privacy Act, you can wait here." He got out and walked inside.

In another twenty minutes, he came out, and Kate said, "Well?"

"The morning after Calculus's stop at the little white house, Pollock deposited eighty-nine hundred dollars into his checking account."

"Eighty-nine hundred is a nice number. It keeps it under ten thousand so the IRS isn't notified, but not as noticeable as ninety-nine hundred, which is a bigger flag than if he had deposited the entire ten thousand."

Vail started the car and pulled out. "I think I know what that house is now."

"What?"

"For Calculus to be there and record the exchange, it has to be a Russian safe house. Maybe he left something there for us."

"So now we're going to Langston with this, right?" And then, pretending to be talking to herself, she said, "Oh, Kate, you are cute but so naive. That's Steve Vail sitting next to you, and you're asking him about going to the AD?"

Vail laughed. "If you were the assistant director in charge of counterterrorism, what would you do?" When she didn't say anything, he said, "Come on, Kate, that was almost your job. What do you do now?"

"I'd probably black-bag it."

"And how long would that take?"

"To line up all the techs and the lock guys, do the site work, I suppose a couple of days."

"Minimum. We don't have a couple of days. The Russians have a big advantage over us-torture."

Vail turned left, and she realized he wasn't heading back to Washington. "Please tell me you're not going to break into a Russian safe house."

"You're the one who demanded to be inside the investigation inside the investigation this time. Now come the liabilities that you were warned about. You can't have it both ways." this time. Now come the liabilities that you were warned about. You can't have it both ways."

"Here's four words I'm going to assume you've heard before: You can't do that. You can't do that. It belongs to the Russians." It belongs to the Russians."

"First of all, the correct pronoun is 'we.' And I can foresee only one possible problem. I noticed in the photo you took that there's an alarm-company warning sticker in the front window."

"That's why we need our tech and lock people to get inside."

"Who do you suppose was the last person out of the house that night?"

"If he was doing the technical stuff, I suppose Calculus?"

"If he left evidence for us in there, do you think he would have set the alarm?"

Kate let her head fall to her chest as if surrendering all hope. "You know, it's being exposed to guys like you that makes online dating seem so promising. The only thing a girl has to worry about there is the occasional serial killer."

5.

Kate listened to Vail's shallow breathing and found it remarkable that he could sleep anywhere, and apparently under any circumstances. They had been watching the suspected safe house for a couple of hours, waiting for dark, and Vail, after giving her a nod that he was going to do so, had drifted off. She wondered how much sleep he'd actually had in the past two days. For the last half year, she had been back in Washington, away from him. Back to the daily dictates of organization and rules. Beyond all else, rules. So many, in fact, that following every one of them left not the slightest opportunity to get anything else done. But Vail was an outsider, someone who couldn't exist in such an inertial state. He was about to commit a burglary that carried with it the potential of international consequences. It scared the hell out of her. She looked over at him sleeping and wondered why she couldn't wait to be part of it.

As if sensing that the sun had finally set, Vail opened his eyes. He looked at the small house and said, "No lights. So far so good."

"What if someone from the embassy came back out here and reset the alarm? If it was turned off in the first place?"

"Then I would assume we'll hear some sort of loud noise or see flashing lights. There's only one way to find out."

"Did it ever occur to you that the Russians might have some sort of sensor that goes right into the embassy and isn't connected to this alarm system?"

"That's more than an hour away."

"They could call the local police."

"We're FBI agents. We saw someone breaking in and went in after them. They must have heard us and gone out the back."

"I don't know how I could ever question you. Apparently this is another foolproof plan. I'm psyched. Dibs on the crowbar."

"That's what I like to see, Kate, some genuine enthusiasm." Vail glanced at her feet. "I guess I should have told you to wear more sensible shoes." He manipulated the map on the dashboard GPS to search the surrounding areas.

"Sensible shoes? At this moment my footwear choice is what you think may not have been well thought out?"

He pointed to the GPS screen. "I want to go through the woods behind the place and get in through a rear window or door."

She reached over and removed the keys from the ignition. "Fortunately, I have my gym clothes in the trunk." She got out and retrieved her running shoes.

As she put them on, Vail drove past the house and, then a quarter of a mile farther, turned onto a dirt road. A hundred yards later, he found a place on the shoulder wide enough to pull over and park. After taking a last look at the map on the screen, he asked, "Ready?"

"Let's burgle."

Grabbing a flashlight from the glove compartment, Vail led the way through the woods, which although heavily treed had little underbrush to navigate through. Ten minutes later they stood at the edge of a tree line looking at the back of the house. It was completely dark. The rear of the structure had no doors, but there were three identical windows. "Go knock on the door."

"Of a Russian safe house. Shouldn't I have a stack of Girl Scout cookies or be wearing a Brownie uniform?"

"This is no time for sexual fantasies. Tell them your car broke down and you need to call the auto club."

"And why would someone as together as I am-discounting my shoes-not have a cell phone?" she asked. "Is that fantasy about me or Thin Mints?"

"Tell them it's dead. You know, act like a ditz."