1:53:46 P.M. EDT.

Newark General Hospital Tony Almeida folded his arms as the doctor briefed him. The physician was young, barely out of residency, but from his att.i.tude, Tony sensed the man had already seen it all. While he spoke, the diminutive Asian American peered through the door, at the woman stretched out on the hospital bed.

"Ms. Foy's car was broadsided by a pickup truck," Dr. Lei said. "A stolen pickup truck, according to the police. She has seven st.i.tches above her hairline to close a gash in her head. I've just checked the X-rays and there's no sign of a fracture, so at worst she's suffering from a concussion. That's the extent of her injuries, except for a few bruised ribs.

"She was fortunate, Mr. Almeida. Very fortunate. The air bag saved her life. I'm keeping her here overnight, for observation, but I'll most likely sign her release papers in the morning."

Tony nodded. "I need to speak with her immediately."

Dr. Lei shrugged. "She's on pain management, but otherwise she's alert. Just try not to get her too excited."

"Got it, doc," Tony replied. Dr. Lei moved on to his next patient.

Tony signaled Rachel Delgado, who was waiting at the nurses' station. They entered the room together.

Judith Foy appeared small and pale and frail on the huge hospital bed. Her head was propped, and an IV tube ran from a bottle into her arm. Her s.h.a.ggy red hair stuck out from under the bandages wound around her head. Tony noticed some swelling around her nose and eyes - probably the results of the air bag deployment.

"Deputy Director Foy. I need to speak with you," Tony began.

The woman's eyes narrowed. "Who the h.e.l.l are you?" she demanded in a surprisingly strong voice.

"My name's Almeida. I'm from CTU."

"Then why haven't I ever seen you before?"

"I'm from Los Angeles Headquarters."

"Oh, right. The consultants from the West Coast." The woman's deep azure eyes drifted to Rachel Delgado. "I've seen you before."

Rachel nodded. "At the orientation meeting a few weeks ago, Deputy Director. That was during our first tour of the new facility."

"Delgado, right? You're in Security."

Rachel nodded.

"I need to speak with you," Tony said. "About the ongoing operation that you and Director Holman are involved in. The rogue rogue operation." operation."

The woman shifted in her bed. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said evenly.

"We know that it involves the New Jersey settlement called Kurmastan," Tony continued. 'We know at least two agents from another government agency are involved - illegally involved."

Judith Foy's eyes shifted like a trapped animal. Then she faced Tony. "I'll talk," she said. "But only to you. Agent Delgado has to go."

"Agent Delgado is a security agent from your own division."

"She's out, now, now, or you both can leave and I'll do my talking to a lawyer. It's up to you." Judith Foy crossed her arms and turned her head, to stare out the window. or you both can leave and I'll do my talking to a lawyer. It's up to you." Judith Foy crossed her arms and turned her head, to stare out the window.

"I'll be at the nurses' station," Rachel said.

When she was gone, Tony closed the door behind her and returned to the side of the bed. Deputy Director Foy looked up. Tony could see the pain and trauma etched on her face.

"I'm sorry I had to do that, but I'm taking orders directly from Brice Holman," Judith Foy began. "Holman told me not to trust anyone at CTU New York. He said there were several security breaches at our temporary offices in Battery Park. And then last week, when Holman transferred his files to the new mainframe, there was an attempt to raid his personal database and crack his private surveillance files."

She touched her head, winced. "After that, Brice added many levels of additional locks to thwart more attacks."

"That's all you know?" Tony asked suspiciously.

"There have been other leaks..."

Her voice trailed off when she saw the doubt on Tony's face. "You don't believe me," she said.

"Who are the agents you're working with?"

Judith Foy seemed to ponder Tony's question, then nodded as if she'd made up her mind about something.

"Their names are Jason Emmerick and Douglas Leight. They both work out of the New York office of the FBI."

"Where are they now?"

"I have no idea."

Tony frowned. "Where is Brice Holman?"

She shook her head. "I couldn't tell you."

"Why were you in Newark today?"

Judith Foy told Tony about the two men who arrived on the flight out of Montreal, how she and the FBI agents followed the men when they split up - she on the tail of one car, Emmerick and Leight on the other.

"How did you know these men were coming to the United States in the first place?" Tony asked.

"The FBI picked up some chatter between Ibrahim Noor and a guy named Farshid Amadani, a.k.a. the Hawk. Amadani is a known terrorist and a paramilitary instructor. Lately he's been acting as sort of go-between for the Warriors of G.o.d. The big guys, Ibrahim Noor and al Sallifi himself, never leave the compound. It was Special Agent Emmerick who pa.s.sed the intelligence on to Brice and me."

"Do you know the names of the two men who got off the airplane?" Tony asked.

"One was Amadani himself, whom - surprise, surprise - we didn't even know was coming back to the country. The other man was traveling under the name Faoud S. Mubajii, supposedly from Quebec. But that ident.i.ty could be a phony. I didn't have time to run a check on him."

Tony sensed anger and frustration in the woman's voice; he also believed she was telling the truth, though it wasn't his call to make.

"Can you describe him?" Tony asked.

"I can do better than that," she replied. "I shot pictures - even some close-ups - at the airport this morning. The digital camera is in my purse, which was in my car..."

"Then it's in the hospital property room," Tony said.

"Get it, Agent Almeida. Before someone else does."

"Someone else? Like who?"

"Listen, what happened to me wasn't an accident. They knew I was following them and they set me up to be killed. They might try to get my stuff next - or they might try to kill me again and succeed this time."

Tony nodded. "All right, I'll get the camera."

"Get my cell phone, too. I have Emmerick's and Leight's numbers stored inside. If you don't believe what I told you, you can talk to them and they'll back me up. At this point, I don't think secrecy matters anymore."

The woman touched the IV needle in her arm. "I think something bigger is going on," she said.

"I'm gone." Tony moved to the door.

"One more thing, Agent Almeida..."

He paused, one hand on the doork.n.o.b.

"I have a cyber lock on the camera's digital contents. If you try to retrieve the data without my pa.s.sword, you'll lose it all."

Tony nodded. "At least I know where I stand."

"I've been an agent too long to trust anyone," said Foy.

In the busy hallway, Tony saw Rachel Delgado. The moment she noticed him, she closed her cell phone.

Who was she speaking to? Tony wondered. Tony wondered.

"Do you have a weapon?" he asked, walking up to her.

"Standard nine-millimeter." Rachel held up the bag on her shoulder.

"Guard Deputy Director Foy's door," he commanded.

"Don't let anyone in or out except Dr. Lei and the nurses - and then I want you with them the whole time."

"What's going on?"

"Just do it," Tony replied. "I'll be right back."

1:59:16 P.M. EDT.

Property Room Newark General Hospital The property room was adjacent to the hospital morgue, and the two departments shared the same security desk, which Alexi Szudamenko found suitably moronic.

Sure, some of the stuff in the property room was probably valuable, but who would want a corpse?

With his Russian father and Polish mother, Alexi had emigrated from Krakow with his parents in the early 1980s, when he was just a boy. But even after twelve years living in nearby Jersey City, he still didn't quite understand why Americans did some of the things they did.

Like guard dead people.

Alexi pulled the collar of his dark blue security uniform tight. It might be a warm spring afternoon outside, but down here in the bas.e.m.e.nt things got chilly. The reason for the arctic temperatures was cold air seeping out of the morgue's ma.s.sive refrigeration unit. The constant risk of frostbite made this particular security posting unpleasant. But at least Alexi didn't have to deal with the public, which was infinitely worse than sitting between drawers full of dead people and a wall of steel lockboxes for eight hours a day.

At least it was quiet. So quiet that Alexi sat down behind the security desk and pulled the latest issue of Live Nude Girls of Live Nude Girls out of the drawer. He was just about to open the cover when the intercom buzzed. out of the drawer. He was just about to open the cover when the intercom buzzed.

Sighing, the big man tossed the glossy magazine back into the drawer and crossed to the door. Running his hand through his light brown hair, he punched the intercom b.u.t.ton. "Yes?"

"I need to see someone in the properties department," a voice replied. Alexi looked up at the security monitor. A dark-haired Hispanic man stood on the other side of the door.

Alexi threw the lock and opened the door. "Can I help..."

The silenced weapon barked twice. Alexi stumbled backward, but eerily, he remained on his feet despite the twin holes over his heart.

The man stepped through the door and closed it behind him. Then he shot the guard again.

This time Alexi's knees gave out and he dropped to the tiled floor, one leg out, the other folded under him.

8.

THE FOLLOWING TAKES PLACE BETWEEN THE HOURS OF 2:00 P.M. AND 3:00 P.M. EASTERN DAYLIGHT TIME.

2:02:06 P.M. EDT.

Security Station One CTU Headquarters, NYC Jack summoned his team to the security station for a briefing by Morris...o...b..ian. He leaned with folded arms against a desk while the cyber technician spoke.

"This morning, when Brice Holman refused to answer our friendly phone calls, I followed CTU protocol and issued a trace command on his cell phone."

"A trace command? What's that?" Layla interrupted.

Morris glanced at Jack, then smiled indulgently. "I used the unique identifiers on Holman's phone to trace its activity. Nothing happens when the man's phone is turned off, of course. But as soon as he turns it on, the trace commands imbedded in the telecommunications grid automatically attempt to triangulate his position, and then forward the data to me."

"So what have you got?" Jack demanded. He moved behind Morris's chair to stand over the man.

Peter Randall was there, too, doe-eyed behind his round gla.s.ses. Despite his boyish demeanor, Randall had a.s.sumed responsibility for internal security in Tony Almeida's and Rachel Delgado's absence.

In the last hour, he'd proved to be a valuable a.s.set. Randall had determined the intruders killed on the roof of CTU Headquarters had entered through the parking garage, and his security team also found the bodies of the murdered guards behind some parked cars.

Now they were hunting a third accomplice, clad in a good copy of a CTU uniform. He had been taped fleeing the scene by the reactivated security cam inside the parking garage, around the same time the firefight broke out on the roof.

"Here's the skinny, Jack-o," Morris replied. "At twelve twenty-eight this afternoon, Holman activated his phone for approximately thirty-nine seconds - not long enough to triangulate his position with any sort of accuracy, but I did learn that the low-power transmission from his cell went to a switch in the farming community of Alpha, New Jersey..."

Layla interrupted again. "A switch? What kind of switch?"

"Darling," Morris said patiently. "In mobile lingo, or as you call it in the colonies, in cell phone cell phone lingo, a switch is a transmission tower." lingo, a switch is a transmission tower."

"So Director Holman is in Alpha, New Jersey?"