O'Hara commented as the four blackcollars approached it.

"Yes, but not seriously," Hawking assured him. "Jensen cranked back most of the juice so that he could run pressure sensors along the top without the current blinding them."

"Another good reason to leave the fence alone," Skyler said, pulling on his battle-hood and gloves as the

others followed suit. "O'Hara?"

O'Hara stepped to his side, and together they eased their way cautiously forward until they were about a meter from the fence. There was no obvious reaction from either the fence or the environs. Turning to face each other a meter apart, they settled into wide horse stances, knees bent, hands cupped thigh high in front of them. "Kanai?" Skyler said, looking back at the others.

Kanai nodded and started forward at a slow jog, picking up speed as he came. He reached Skyler and

O'Hara and leaped forward and upward.

And as he did so, the two blackcollars caught the undersides of his boots in their cupped hands and pulled convulsively upward, hurling him toward the night sky. He flew to the top of the fence and did a neat high jumper's roll over the top, continuing the roll and twist and landing in a crouch on the other side.

Fifteen seconds later, Hawking was beside him. "You've got fifteen minutes to get through the grounds and check out the house," Skyler told them. "After that, O'Hara and I drive up to the front door like we owned the place."

"We'll be ready," Hawking promised. Touching Kanai on the shoulder, he gestured, and together they slipped away into the night.

* * * "This is completely outrageous," Manx Reger growled, his eyes blazing as he glared at Poirot from the middle of the large overstuffed chair where the two Security men standing to his right and left had planted him. "It's also completely illegal."

"That's good, coming from a crime boss," Poirot countered. "Let me ask one more time: What's in the

shipment your friends dropped tonight?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Reger said stiffly. "And as for being a crime boss, I deny that categorically."

"Of course you do." Poirot turned to the door as Bailey came into the room. "You have everyone?"

"I think so," Bailey said. "There were two more hiding in shielded guard holes. We've put everyone together in the dining room."

"Make sure they stay quiet," Poirot warned.

"We will," Bailey assured him. "I also heard from the spotters. They say a car's gone down the access

road west of the estate and stopped by the fence there. Four men got out, and they think two of them must have gotten through the fence somewhere and come onto the grounds. Only two got back into the car, anyway."

Poirot scratched his cheek. Suspicious couriers checking out the estate before making their delivery? Or was it standard procedure to bypass the house and deliver the contraband to a hidden cache somewhere else on the grounds?

He looked at Reger, but the other's face wasn't giving anything away. "Put a couple of our plainclothes

men outside," he told Bailey. "Tell them to keep out of the light. Maybe the sight of some roving guards will make our gate-crashers happier." Bailey nodded and repeated the orders into his comm. "What about the two in the car?" he asked. "Let them be," Poirot told him. "Sooner or later, I'm sure they'll come to see us." * * *

"Five minutes," O'Hara said.

Skyler nodded. So far, whoever had taken over Reger's estate hadn't come to check out this car sitting on the road along the western fence. Either inattention or overconfidence, and either was likely to cost them. "I'm thinking we'll just go straight in, play stupid, and take it from there," he said.

"They may remember you," O'Hara pointed out. "And if Galway's been doing his job, they probably

have a photo of me, as well."

"Which I'm guessing local Security will have long forgotten," Skyler said. "They've got enough faces from their own neighborhood to memorize."

"I suppose." O'Hara was silent a moment. "I wonder what this difference of opinion is that Kanai's

having with Phoenix."

"Whatever it is, I don't like it," Skyler said. "A Resistance movement is no place for politics and disagreements."

"Not that that's ever stopped anyone," O'Hara pointed out.

"Which is why those groups fall apart so often once they finally win," Skyler said. "The last thing we want is for that to happen here."

"I'll bet they're fighting over what to do with the moles they've created in the political structure," O'Hara

mused. "One of them probably wants to start making trouble now, while the other wants to wait until

they get word to act. Or maybe there's a difference of opinion as to what targets to go after."

"Or they're fighting over Aegis Mountain," Skyler said. "There's got to be a lot of interesting stuff in the doomsdayed areas. One of them may be wanting to take the risk of trying to get those rooms open."

"Ouch," O'Hara murmured. "That would certainly make the Ryqril sit up and take notice."

"Not to mention everyone in the immediate area," Skyler agreed. "That immediate area possibly including much of Denver itself."

"Yeah." O'Hara checked his watch. "Time to go."

"Right." Skyler started the car and pulled onto the road again.

"Signal from the gate," Bailey reported. "The car's coming down the road, two males visible."

"Have the men at the gate pass them through," Poirot ordered. "Then they're to close up and follow them in. Two plainclothesmen from the house are to meet them as they come up, with a sniper out of sight in one of the front windows. Hopefully, they'll be smart enough not to make trouble."

"Yes, sir," Bailey said, repeating the orders. "Heading out now."

"And warn them not to identify themselves until after the men are out of the car," Poirot added. "As far as they're concerned, everything here is business as usual."

"Yes, sir," Bailey said, frowning as he pressed his comm earphone harder against his ear. "Sir, the team

leader reports he can't raise the two men we sent outside earlier."

From somewhere out in the hallway came a soft thud. Poirot turned that direction, wondering in

irritation which of his men was falling over his own feet.

To see a black-clad figure walk casually into the room.

For a single, impossibly long heartbeat it didn't register. Then, with a rush of adrenaline, Poirot finally

understood what was happening. "Alert!" he shouted as loudly as he could, grabbing for his holstered

paral-dart pistol.

The two Security men standing behind Reger's chair were already in motion. It didn't do them a bit of good. The blackcollar had a pair of throwing stars cupped in his hand, and even as the guards tried to bring their own guns to bear he flipped the weapons into their throats. Both men toppled backward, one of them sending a cluster of darts harmlessly into the ceiling as he died.

"Don't," the blackcollar warned. He had his arm cocked over his shoulder, another throwing star in hand,

aimed at Poirot and Bailey. "Hands away from your guns, please."

Poirot focused on the two dead guards. "Hands away," he ordered Bailey through clenched teeth as he lifted his own hands. "But you're too late," he added to the blackcollar. "My men have already been alerted."

The other shrugged slightly. "We'll see." * * * Skyler had brought the car to a halt at the mansion's ornate front entryway, and the two men waiting at the door were striding toward the car when both of them abruptly twitched and went for their guns. "It's blown," Skyler snapped. Wrenching open his door, he dived out onto the ground. He was just in time. Even as he hit the ground a cloud of paral-darts scattered off the car's roof with a nails-on-slate screech. Rolling back to his knees, he sent a pair of shuriken toward the nearest attacker. The man ducked, but not quite far enough. One of the stars skimmed past his head, as the second buried itself in his right shoulder. He staggered with the impact, his next shot going wild. Skyler grabbed out one of his knives before the other could regain his balance and with a hard underhand throw sent it to bounce hilt first off the man's forehead. He went down, his gun flying from his hand, and lay still. There was a flicker of movement from the mansion itself, and Skyler was slammed backward as a flechette slammed into his chest, turning his flexarmor momentarily rigid as it blocked the shot and distributed the impact over his entire body. He dived away from the car as the flexarmor relaxed, dodging in a roll-leap evasive maneuver, wishing he'd had time to put on his battle-hood as he searched the windows for the sniper. There was a second flicker from one of the first-floor windows, and he caught a glimpse of a figure standing there as a patch of pavement beside him erupted into splinters. Dodging again to the side, he grabbed another shuriken and hurled it toward the window, knowing the sniper was well out of range but hoping to brush him back until O'Hara could get to cover and get out his slingshot.

There was another flicker from the window; but this time the shot buried itself in a tree trunk five meters to Skyler's left. He pulled out another shuriken, wondering if the man could really have reacted that strongly to his first throw.

And even as his brain caught up with the fact that that there had been two men at the window, the tingler on his wrist came to life: sniper down; house secure. Skyler huffed a sigh of relief. But there was no time to pause for congratulations. The two men who'd followed the car in from the gate were sprinting toward them now, one rapid-firing paral-dart bursts, the other laying down scattergun blasts as fast as he could work the pump.

They were still coming when the paral-dart gunner abruptly folded over his stomach and flopped onto

the ground. His partner had just enough time to work the scattergun pump one last time, and then his head jerked hard and he, too, crumpled into a heap.

"You okay?" O'Hara called as he rose from the partial cover of the car, a third stone ready in his