The silence, broken only by the sound of his footsteps on the marble entry, calmed the agitation brought on by seeing Nadine. This was his turf, the seat of his power, his kingdom. This building, this life, he'd built from the near ruin of the old. He'd learned much in the years since Nadine had escaped. His tastes, his passions, had been refined to near perfection, as she soon would learn.

She would die this night, but not until she'd completely and totally submitted to his will. As the elevator rose, his longing to be with her rose, too. He was almost willing to turn aside from RABBIT, from all this, to finish what she'd run from all those years ago.

Almost.

Patience, he reminded himself. No woman was worth losing a working prototype of RABBIT. With it, his power would grow. Nadine was an interlude, an old page turning to bring on the new, not the main event. Besides, she was old now, good only to prove his power absolute. For the main event, there was the power of the governor's mansion and Audrey's money and connections.

And her daughters. Her lovely...young daughters.

He smiled as he unlocked the door to his office and went in for this last act-though not the last scene-of his old life. The smile disappeared when he saw Nadine's partner waiting for him. Sitting his chair.

"You took your sweet time," Dewey said. "I was getting ready to call the general."

"Where's RABBIT?" Harding's hands curled into fists in the pockets of his expensive suit. This young man needed to be taught a lesson before he died. Lily was going to get very lucky tonight.

"Safe." Dewey stood up and gestured for Harding to take his seat. "And ready to show off for... daddy...after you prove Phoebe is all right."

"She's fine." Harding walked around his desk and sank into the chair without taking his gaze off Dewey. "If you don't have it on you, how the hell am I supposed to know it works?"

"I've rigged a remote camera for you." Dewey pointed toward Harding's computer. Some kind of headgear and a pair of odd-looking gloves had been connected to it. "It's not that I don't trust you-well, actually, that's not true. I don't trust you any more than you trust me. Creates some interesting difficulties, but we'll deal with those as we come to them." He rubbed his hands together. "First, I see with my own eyes that Phoebe is alive and well, then I give you a demonstration of RABBIT's capabilities."

Harding wasn't happy, but it wasn't part of the plan to make him happy, so Dewey didn't waste any worry about it. All his worry was for Phoebe. He should never have let her do this. Just being in the same room with Harding, who was in a state of creepy excitement, made his skin crawl. Harding was seriously unstable.

Harding shrugged, a slight twitch below one eye as he pulled the phone toward him and dialed. "Get her out, and have her look up." Harding covered the mouthpiece with his hand. "Look out the window."

Careful to keep one eye on Harding, Dewey did as he was told. Two people stood by a white van, but they were too far away to be sure. "That could be anyone out there."

Harding gave an exasperated sigh, opened a drawer and handed him a pair of binoculars. Dewey didn't ask what they were doing in his desk drawer. He didn't want to know.

He adjusted the focus until the woman's face sharpened; Phoebe looked tense, the strain obvious, and her mouth looked bruised and puffy. Dewey lowered the binoculars, pulled the gun out of his jacket and pointed it at Harding. "You hit her, you bastard. I could kill you now."

Harding nodded toward the window. "If he doesn't see me come out that door in fifteen minutes, he has orders to kill her." His shrug was arrogant, his triumph obvious. "You're right. Our mistrust is quite mutual. I suggest we get on with our business or a couple of slaps won't be the worst thing that happens to Nadine."

He thinks he controls the board, Dewey thought, fighting to regain calm. Well, we'll see who controls what. He picked up the headgear and handed it to Harding.

"You put this on your head, your hands in the gloves," Dewey said. "When you're ready, I'll activate the remote connection."

Harding picked up the headset, examining it for a long moment before fitting it over his head. Dewey allowed himself a silent sigh of relief.

"I'm ready."

Dewey briefly crossed his fingers, then hit Enter on the keyboard.

"What am I seeing?"

"You're inside the vehicle RABBIT is controlling. I've programmed it to drive an obstacle course, choosing the best possible route for itself. It will go through it once, calculating the variables, then go through it again. Artificial-Intelligent-Automation. Just what the military ordered."

Dewey looked at his watch, then started the program.

"This is...impressive," Harding said. "I can't believe that bastard Stern hid it from me."

"You shouldn't have believed it," Stern said from the private doorway, his cold gaze and his gun both pointed at Dewey.

Harding ripped off the gloves, then the headset. "What the hell-"

"That should be who the hell and the answer's him. And Nadine, of course." He nudged the door wider. "Bring her in, Harley."

With a terrified look at Stern, Harley pushed Phoebe into the room.

"That'll be all," Stern said, then shot Harley twice in the heart.

Harley fell at Phoebe's feet, his eyes, wide and shocked, stared at her for a small eternity before awareness faded. She'd seen the man kill as indifferently as he was killed, but that didn't stop her from feeling an odd sense of loss, even some guilt. Maybe there was something to that "...Every man's death diminishes me..." thing. Or perhaps it was realizing it was her game that took him out. He wasn't a game piece being casually bumped off the board. That this hadn't been part of the plan was no excuse.

"Drop your gun, or she's next," Stern said to Dewey, turning the barrel toward Phoebe.

Dewey started to lay it on the desk, but Stern shook his head sharply. "On the floor. Kick it toward the door."

"Stern." Harding smiled and started toward him.

"Don't even start." Stern turned the weapon on Harding. "Sit."

"What are you doing? They set us up to-"

"And you bought it. I don't forgive. Or forget." With his free hand, he pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes, extracted one and lit up, his cold, steady gaze never faltering or showing distraction. He didn't even blink when the smoke curled up around his head. "You two, sit. There and there."

He indicated the couch near the bar for Dewey and the chair in front of the desk for Phoebe. Divide and conquer. A good strategy.

He hooked one leg over a barstool, resting his gun hand on his elevated knee as he studied the remaining players with an air of leashed menace increased, not lessened, by his relaxed stance.

"I'm afraid I'm not up to speed on what's going down here. I was...tied up." His cold gaze found Harding, whose angry look had faded to ashen. "Someone enlighten me."

Phoebe exchanged a look with Dewey. "What do you want to know?"

Stern took a long, slow drag on his cigarette, then blew it out. Through the smoke he studied her. "I had a feeling you were pulling the strings on this little game. With your past knowledge, you'd know right where and when to apply pressure, wouldn't you?" He ground the cigarette out in the ashtray before he added, "Let's start with your cards on the table."

Phoebe started. "I don't-"

"The handcuffs. I notice the rose is no longer adorning your lovely-breast. Why don't you put the flower on the desk and secure those cuffs for me."

Phoebe unpinned the rose from her waistband and put it on the desk, a tiny spot of red that looked like a drop of blood on the wide, dark expanse. She secured her handcuffs with an audible click.

She'd underestimated Barrett Stern, failed to research him thoroughly. He wasn't Harding's knight; he was the far more powerful queen, though he probably wouldn't appreciate the description.

It was a relief when his gaze moved off her and onto Harding.

"Now, you." Stern pulled another set of handcuffs out of his pocket. "So thoughtful of you to make sure I had a plentiful supply of these. Around the wrists and through the arm of your chair." He tossed them at Harding. "I thought we agreed you'd get rid of them. You should have listened to me."

With a venomous look at Stern, Harding looped the cuffs through the arm and then snapped them around his wrists.