Its all my fault.

I helped kill them.

She opened the mirrored door to the medicine cabinet. Like most people, the Wolfes never threw out old medicine, and there it was, a plastic container of Placidyls. There were stillshe counted six of them. Surely that would be enough.

What brings you out this time? Timmy Jackson asked his big brother.

I gotta go out on Ranger to observe a Fleet-Ex. Were trying out some new intercept tactics I helped work up. And a friend of mine just got command of Enterprise, so I came out a day early to watch the ceremony. I go down to Dego tomorrow and catch the COD out to Ranger.

COD?

The carriers delivery truck, Robby explained. Twin-engine prop bird. So hows life in the light infantry?

Were still humpin hills. Got our clock cleaned on the last exercise. My new squad leader really fucked up. It isnt fair, Tim observed.

What do you mean?

Lieutenant Jackson tossed off the last of his drink. A green lieutenant and a green squad leader is too much burden for any platoon to bearthats what the new S-3 said. He was out with us. Of course, the captain didnt exactly see it that way. Lost a little weight yesterdayhe chewed off a piece of my ass for me. God, I wish I had Chavez back.

Huh?

Squad leader I lost. Hethats the odd part. He was supposed to go to a basic-training center as an instructor, but seems he got lost. The S-3 says he was in Panama a few weeks ago. Had my platoon sergeant try to track him down, see what the hell was going onhes still my man, you know? Robby nodded. He understood. Anyway, his paperwork is missing, and the clerks are runnin in circles trying to find it. Fort Benning called to ask where the hell he was, cause they were still waiting for him. Nobody knows where the hell Ding got to. That sort of thing happen in the Navy?

When a guy goes missing, it generally means that he wants to be missing.

Tim shook his head. Nah, not Ding. Hes a lifer, I dont even think hell stop at twenty. Hell retire as a command sergeant major. No, hes no bugout.

Then maybe somebody dropped his file in the wrong drawer, Robby suggested.

I suppose. Im still new at this, Tim reminded himself. Still, it is kind of funny, turning up down there in the jungle. Enough of that. Hows Sis?

About the only good thing to say was that it wasnt hot. In fact, it was pretty cool. Maybe there wasnt enough air to be hot, Ding told himself. The altitude was marginally less than theyd trained at in Colorado, but that was weeks behind them, and it would be a few days before the soldiers were reacclimated. That would slow them down some, but on the whole Chavez thought that heat was more debilitating than thin air, and harder to get used to.

The mountainsnobody called these mothers hillswere about as rugged as anything hed ever seen, and though they were well forested, he was paying particularly close attention to his footing. The thick trees made for limited visibility, which was good news. His night scope, hanging on his head like a poorly designed cap, allowed him to see no more than a hundred meters, and usually less than that, but he could see something, while the overhead cover eliminated the light needed for the unaided eye to see. It was scary, and it was lonely, but it was home for Sergeant Chavez.

He did not move in a straight line to the nights objective, following instead the Armys approved procedure of constantly veering left and right of the direction in which he was actually traveling. Every half hour hed stop, double back, and wait until the rest of the squad was in view. Then it was their turn to rest for a few minutes, checking their own back for people who might take an interest in the new visitors to the jungle highlands.

The sling on his MP-5 was double-looped so that he could carry it slung over his head, always in firing position. There was electricians tape over the muzzle to keep it from being clogged, and more tape was wrapped around the sling swivels to minimize noise. Noise was their enemy. Chavez concentrated on that, and seeing, and a dozen other things. This one was for-real. The mission brief had told them all about that. Their job wasnt reconnaissance anymore.

After six hours, the RONremain overnightsite was in view. Chavez radioed backfive taps on the transmit key answered by threefor the squad to remain in place while he checked it out. Theyd picked a real eyriehe knew the word for an eagles nestfrom which, in daylight, they could look down on miles of the main road that snaked its way from Manizales to Medellin, and off of which the refining sites were located. Six of them, supposedly, were within a nights march of the RON site. Chavez circled it carefully, looking for footprints, trash, anything that hinted at human activity. It was too good a site for someone not to have used it for something or other, he thought. Maybe a photographer for National Geographic who wanted to take shots of the valley. On the other hand, getting here was a real bitch. They were a good three thousand feet above the road, and this wasnt the sort of country that you could drive a tank across, much less a car. He spiraled in, and still found nothing. Maybe it was too far out of the way. After half an hour he keyed his radio again. The rest of the squad had had ample time to check its rear, and if anyone had been following them, there would have been contact by now. The sun outlined the eastern wall of the valley in red by the time Captain Ramirez appeared. It was just as well that the covert insertion had shortened the night. With only half a nights march behind them they were tired, but not too tired, and would have a day to get used to the altitude all over again. Theyd come five linear miles from the LZmore like seven miles actually walked, and two thousand feet up.

As before, Ramirez spread his men out in pairs. There was a nearby stream, but nobody was dehydrated this time. Chavez and Vega took position over one of the two most likely avenues of approach to their perch, a fairly gentle slope with not too many trees and a good field of fire. Ding hadnt come in this way, of course.

How you feelin, Oso?

Why cant we ever go to a place with plenty of air and its cool and flat? Sergeant Vega slipped out of his web gear, setting it in a place where it would make a comfortable pillow. Chavez did the same.

People dont fight wars there, man. Thats where they build golf courses.

Fuckin A! Vega set up his Squad Automatic Weapon next to a rocky outcropping. A camouflage cloth was set across the muzzle. He could have torn up a shrub to hide the gun behind, but they didnt want to disturb anything they didnt have to. Ding won the toss this time, and fell off to sleep without a word.

Mom? It was after seven oclock, and she was always up by now, fixing breakfast for her family of early risers. Dave knocked at the door, but heard nothing. That was when he started being afraid. Hed already lost a father, and knew that even parents were not the immortal, unchanging beings that all children need at the center of their growing universe. It was the constant nightmare that each of Moiras children had but never spoke about, even among themselves, lest their talk somehow make it more likely to happen. What if something happens to Mom? Even before his hand felt for the doorknob, Daves eyes filled with tears at the anticipation of what he might find.

Mom? His voice quavered now, and he was ashamed of it, fearful also that his siblings would hear. He turned the knob and opened the door slowly.

The shades were open, flooding the room with morning light. And there she was, lying on the bed, still wearing her black mourning dress. Not moving.

Dave just stood there, the tears streaming down his cheeks as the reality of his personal nightmare struck him with physical force.

. . . Mom?

Dave Wolfe was as courageous as any teenager, and he needed all of it this morning. He summoned what strength he had and walked to the bedside, taking his mothers hand. It was still warm. Next he felt for a pulse. It was there, weak and slow, but there. That galvanized him into action. He lifted the bedside phone and punched 911.

Police emergency, a voice answered immediately.

I need an ambulance. My mom wont wake up.

What is your address? the voice asked. Dave gave it. Okay, now describe your mothers condition.

Shes asleep, and she wont wake up, and Is your mother a heavy drinker?

No! he replied in outrage. She works for the FBI. She went right to bed last night, right after she got home from work. She And there it was, right on the night table. Oh, God. Theres a pill bottle here . . .

Read the label to me! the voice said.

P-l-a-c-i-d-y-l. Its my dads, and he That was all the operator needed to hear.

Okaywell have an ambulance there in five minutes.

Actually, it was there in just over four minutes. The Wolfe house was only three blocks from a firehouse. The paramedics were in the living room before the rest of the family knew anything was wrong. They ran upstairs to find Dave still holding his mothers hand and shaking like a twig in a heavy wind. The leading fireman pushed him aside, checked the airway first, then her eyes, then the pulse.

Forty and thready. Respiration is . . . eight and shallow. Its Placidyl, he reported.

Not that shit! The second one turned to Dave. How many were in there?

I dont know. It was my dads, and Lets go, Charlie. The first paramedic lifted her by the arms. Move it, kid, we gotta roll. There wasnt time to fool around with the Stokes litter. He was a big, burly man and carried Moira Wolfe out of the room like a baby. You can follow us to the hospital.

How Shes still breathin, kid. Thats the best thing I can tell you right now, the second one said on the way out the door.

What the hell is going on? Murray wondered. Hed come by to pick Moira upher car was still in the FBI garageand maybe help ease the guilt she clearly felt. Shed violated security rules, shed done something very foolish, but she was also a victim of a man whod searched and selected her for her vulnerabilities, then exploited them as professionally as anyone could have done. Everybody had vulnerabilities. That was another lesson hed picked up over his years in the Bureau.

Hed never met Moiras kids, though he did know about them, and it wasnt all that hard to figure out who would be there, following the paramedic out of the house. Murray double-parked his Bureau car and hopped out.

What gives? he asked the second paramedic. Murray held up his ID so that hed get an answer.

Suicide attempt. Pills. Anything else you need? the paramedic asked on his way to the drivers seat.

Get moving. Murray turned to make sure he wasnt in the ambulances way.

When he turned back to look at the kids, it was plain that suicide hadnt yet been spoken aloud, and the ugliness of that word made them wilt before his eyes.

That fucker Cortez! Youd better hope that I never get my hands on you!

Kids, Im Dan Murray. I work with your mom. You want me to take you to the hospital? The case could wait. The dead were dead, and they could afford to be patient. Emil would understand.

He let them off in front of the emergency entrance and went off to find a parking place and use his car phone. Get me Shaw, he told the watch officer. It didnt take long.

Dan, this is Bill. What gives?

Moira tried to kill herself last night. Pills.

What are you going to do?

Somebody has to sit with the kids. Does she have any friends we can bring out?

Ill check.

Until then Im going to hang around, Bill. I mean I understand. Okay. Let me know whats happening.

Right. Murray replaced the phone and walked over to the hospital. The kids were sitting together in the waiting room. Dan knew about emergency-room waiting. He also knew that the gold badge of an FBI agent could open nearly any door. It did this time, too.

You just brought a woman in, he told the nearest doctor. Moira Wolfe.

Oh, shes the OD.

Shes a person, not a goddamned OD! Murray didnt say. Instead he nodded. Where?

You cant Murray cut him off cold. Shes part of a major case. I want to see whats happening.

The doctor led him to a treatment cubicle. It wasnt pretty. Already there was a respirator tube down her throat, and IV lines in each armon second inspection, one of the tubes seemed to be taking her blood out and running it through something before returning it to the same arm. Her clothing was off, and EKG sensors were taped to her chest. Murray hated himself for looking at her. Hospitals robbed everyone of dignity, but life was more important than dignity, wasnt it?

Why didnt Moira know that?

Why didnt you catch the signal, Dan? Murray demanded of himself. You should have thought to have somebody keep an eye on her. Hell, if youd put her in custody, she couldnt have done this!

Maybe we should have yelled at her instead of going so easy. Maybe she took it the wrong way. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

Cortez, you are fucking dead. I just havent figured out when yet.

Is she going to make it? Murray asked.

Who the hell are you? a doctor asked without turning.

FBI, and I need to know.

The doctor still didnt look around. So do I, sport. She took Placidyl. Thats a pretty potent sleeping pill, not too many docs prescribe it anymore, cause its too easy to OD on. LD-50 is anywhere from five to ten caps. LD-50 means the dose thatll kill half the people that take it. I dont know how much she took. At least she isnt completely gone, but her vitals are too goddamned low for comfort. Were dialyzing her blood to keep any more from getting into her, hope its not a waste of time. Weve put her on hundred-percent oxygen, then well zap her full of IV fluids and wait it out. Shell be out for at least another day. Maybe two, maybe three. Cant tell yet. I cant tell you what the odds are either. Now you know as much as I do. Get out of here, I got work to do.

There are three kids in the waiting room, Doctor.

That turned his head around for about two seconds. Tell em we got a pretty good chance, but its going to be tough for a while. Hey, Im sorry, but I just dont know. The good news is, if she comes back, shell come all the way back. This stuff doesnt usually do permanent damage. Unless it kills you, the doctor added.

Thanks.

Murray left to tell the kids what he could. Within an hour, some neighbors showed up to take their place with the Wolfe children. Dan left quietly after an agent arrived to keep his own vigil in the waiting room. Moira was probably their only link with Cortez, and that meant that her life was potentially in danger from hands other than her own. Murray got to the office just after nine, his mood still quiet and angry when he arrived. There were three agents waiting for him, and he waved them to follow.

Okay, what have you found out?

Mr. Daz used an American Express card at The Hideaway. Weve identified the number at two airline ticket countersthank God for those credit-checking computers. Right after he dropped Mrs. Wolfe off, he caught a flight out of Dulles to Atlanta, and from there to Panama. Thats where he disappeared. He must have paid cash for the next ticket, cause theres no record of a Juan Daz on any flight that evening. The counter clerk at Dulles remembers himhe was in a hurry to catch the Atlanta flight. The description matches the one we already have. However he got into the country last week, it wasnt Dulles. Were running computer records now, ought to have an answer later this morningcall it an even-money chance to figure his route in. Im betting on one of the big hubs, Dallas-Fort Worth, Kansas City, Chicago, one of them. But thats not the interesting thing weve discovered.

American Express just discovered that it has a bunch of cards for Juan Daz. Several have been generated recently, and they dont know how.

Oh? Murray poured some coffee. How come they werent noticed?

For one thing, the statements are paid on time and in full, so that dog didnt bark. The addresses are all slightly different, and the name itself isnt terribly unusual, so a casual look at the records wont tip anyone off. What it looks like is that somebody has a way to tap into their computer systemall the way into the executive programming, and that might be another lead for us to run down. Hes probably been staying with the name in case Moira gets a look at the card. But what it has told us is that hes made five trips to the D.C. area in the past four months. Somebody is playing with the AmEx computer system, somebody good. Somebody, the agent went on, good enough to tap into a lot of computers. This guy can generate complete credit lines for Cortez or anyone else. There ought to be a way to check that out, but I wouldnt be real hopeful about running him down fast.

There was a knock at the door, and another young agent came in. DallasFort Worth, he said handing over a fax sheet. The signatures match. He came in there and took a late flight to New YorkLa Guardia, got in after midnight local time on Friday. Probably caught the Shuttle down to D.C. to meet Moira. Theyre still checking.

Beautiful, Murray said. Hes got all the moves. Whered he come in from?

Still checking, sir. He got the New York ticket at the counter. Were talking with Immigration to see when he passed through customs control.

Okay, next?

We have prints on him now. We have what looks like a left forefinger on the note paper he left Mrs. Wolfe, and weve matched that with the credit receipt from the airline counter at Dulles. It was tough, but the lab guys used their lasers to bringem out. We sent a team to The Hideaway, but nothing yet. The cleanup crew there is pretty goodtoo damned good for our purposes, but our guys are still working on it.

Everything but a picture on the bastard. Everything but a picture, Murray repeated. What about after Atlanta?

Oh, thought I said that. He caught a flight to Panama after a short layover.

Wheres the AmEx card addressed to?

Its in Caracas, probably just a letterdrop. They all are.

How come Immigration doesntoh. Murray grimaced. Of course his passport is under a different name or he has a collection of them to go with his cards.

Were dealing with a real pro. Were lucky to have gotten this much so fast.

Whats new in Colombia? he asked the next agent.

Not much. The lab work is going nicely, but were not developing anything we didnt already know. The Colombians now have names on about half of the subjectsthe prisoner says he didnt know all of them, and thats probably the truth. Theyve launched a major operation to try an find em, but Morales isnt real hopeful. Theyre all names of people the Colombian governments been after for quite a while. All M-19 types. It was a contract job, just as we thought.

Murray checked his watch. Today was the funeral for the two agents on Emils protection detail. It would be held at the National Cathedral, and the President would be speaking there, too. His phone rang.

Murray.

This is Mark Bright down at Mobile. We have some additional developments.

Okay.