Thomas had not been present during Brent's visit. Regina had said he'd gone off to his time-share on Captiva Island. The Voecklers were exceedingly proud of their two boys and made a point of telling Brent about the great influence George had been on Thomas. They feared that without George's continued guidance, Thomas might slip back into a depression and into his "old ways." He'd already been talking about quitting the NSA job when he'd come home. Regina had taken Brent's hand and had begged him to talk to Thomas. Brent said that he would.

But for now, he needed to get back home for a meeting with Lieutenant Colonel Susan Grey, DCO, 1st Bn, 5th Special Forces Group, a long t.i.tle for a woman short on patience. Grey was a lean, athletic woman with short blond hair who seemed demure before she smiled and ate you for breakfast. She headed up Ghost Recon and had not endorsed Dennison's selection of Brent to lead the Snow Maiden mission. She would remind him of that, and the meeting would, of course, determine his future in the military, if there was one at all.

As he'd suspected, the team had been pulled off the hunt and sent back home, and were about to be rea.s.signed. Lakota's eyes had burned when she resignedly had taken his hand at the airport.

Brent did something stupid and said that now that they weren't working together, he'd like to take her out and buy her a beer.

"You mean a date?" she'd asked.

"I don't know what I mean."

"Well, when you figure that out, give me a call." She'd given him a curt nod and walked away.

Oh, yes, he was quite an operator when it came to the ladies .. .

It was late afternoon when he got back home and he was too tired to cook, so he drove down to the Liberator for a burger and a drink or two. He sat alone in his usual booth, and Schoolie, the big boy with the scarred face, drifted over and slid into the seat opposite him. "Back from Europe."

Brent made a face. "I know why you're here, and I'm not talking."

"You don't have to. I got some scuttleb.u.t.t."

"We're friends now? Sharing secrets? I thought you wanted to bust my chops."

"Well, that, too."

"Then why are you talking like my buddy?"

"I'm still your buddy, Brent. But when I offered my hand before the mission, you should've taken it. You jinxed yourself."

"Okay, whatever."

"Look, let me tell you what's going on ..." Schoolie leaned in closer and scratched his stubbly jowls.

Brent rubbed his eyes, leaned back, and sighed deeply.

Schoolie's tone grew emphatic. "Word is they've just a.s.signed a new team to your old operation."

"Yeah, so?"

"I'm on the new team. We just got briefed. You didn't hear this from me-but they found her again."

Brent nodded. "We knew she'd turn up."

Schoolie winced, took a deep breath, and said, "This isn't the kind of stuff we should be doing."

"It's a different war now."

He snorted. "Yeah, I don't like it."

"So why're you telling me this?"

"Because I know you, Brent. You won't take this lying down."

Brent accepted his beer from the waitress and, after a long pull, said, "Maybe I will."

"Why don't you talk to Dennison? I'll drive you down to the comm center."

"I need a chauffeur?"

"You parked on the gra.s.s again, and they just towed your car. You didn't learn your lesson from the last time?" Schoolie tipped his head toward the front windows, where a tow truck was just leaving with Brent's car hanging from the back.

Brent burst up from the table, cursed, and started toward the door.

"Get it later," said Schoolie. "Come on, I'll take you for that call. See if you can have a little video chat. Do it now before your meeting with Grey."

"Yeah, I came back here to call down to Florida, where I just was ..." he said wearily. "Maybe I should've dropped in on Dennison while I was there."

"Maybe. Have a seat, finish your beer and your dinner. Then we'll go."

Brent complied, and Schoolie tried to probe him for what had happened on the mission. Brent gave him the look that said even asking was breaking the law. That Schoolie had mentioned his own a.s.signment was certainly a violation, not one Brent would ever report, but a violation nonetheless.

"Why are you trying to help me?" Brent said, after taking his last sip of beer.

Schoolie averted his gaze. "This is going to sound stupid."

"I figured."

"Seriously, I've served under a lot of people. I'd be honored to work with you. I'd like to see Boleman out and you in. I'd like to see that happen."

Captain Jay Boleman was a few years younger than Brent and regarded as one of the top three team leaders in the entire organization. Unfortunately, his skill was equaled by his arrogance.

Brent grinned broadly. "So you'd rather work for a junkyard dog than a greyhound, is that what you're saying?"

"Jay's an a.s.s. We both know it. Anyway, I thought I'd help you out."

"Okay. Thanks."

They left the Liberator and went to the comm center for a secure line. Brent made the call to Tampa, only to be told that Dennison was gone for the day and that if the matter wasn't urgent that he should try again at 0800. He cupped the receiver.

"I guess you'll have to call her tomorrow," said Schoolie.

Brent swore to himself. "The meeting's tomorrow. I need to talk to her now."

So he told them the matter was urgent, and they patched him through to Dennison's home via an encrypted signal.

"She's going to be p.i.s.sed," said Schoolie.

"Frankly, fat boy, I don't give a d.a.m.n."

"Captain Brent?" Dennison began, tugging her robe more tightly around her shoulders. She had a quart of rocky road ice cream in her hand with a spoon jutting from it.

"Major, we need to talk."

"Look, Brent, there's no more discussion. If you take issue with what's happened, you need to bring that up to Colonel Grey. I shouldn't have to remind a career officer about the chain of command."

"Colonel Grey and I have different perceptions regarding my After Action Report."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I was removed from the mission before being allowed to finish it."

"I see you've had time to think. And in your case, that's dangerous. Look, I'm sure they'll have a place for you. I've heard a lot of great things about your skill as a trainer. You'd be excellent at the JFK School."

"Someday, yes. But not now."

Dennison glanced at her ice cream. "Is there anything else?"

"Don't give this to Boleman. It's mine. Let me finish it. I was close. Very close."

"I'm sorry, Brent, but it's too late for that. This call is over."

"How did you find her?"

"I'm tired, Captain."

"I'm just asking."

She sighed. "Doletskaya gave us a list of her contacts, and a name came up in Geneva. We had some eyes on that zone and spotted her. We'd tried to bait her, even had him leave messages. She either didn't get them or wasn't taking the bait. But the a.n.a.lysts picked her up right away. The NSA's already got people moving in."

"She'll be long gone."

"We need to figure out where she's going."

Brent a.s.sumed his best poker face. "I know where she's going."

"Oh, really?"

"Ma'am, I need to finish what I started."

"Good night, Captain."

She abruptly ended the link.

Brent turned back toward Schoolie, who was now engulfed by a fiery car crash, the flames rising up his body and burning him into a skeleton whose bones turned black.

Brent blinked.

"d.a.m.n ..." Schoolie said, glancing away. "Tomorrow you're busted out of the Ghosts. Ah, it's not so bad."

Brent looked incredulously at him. "You think I'm going to let that happen?"

"What do you mean?"

Brent c.o.c.ked a brow. "You know know what I mean." what I mean."

"Aw, no, you're crazy."

Brent widened his eyes. "Am I?"

[image]

The Snow Maiden spotted the man on the rooftop of the building across the street, so she, Heidi, and the others ducked back into the coffee shop.

"What's going on now?" cried Heidi. "I thought we were going to the market, then my apartment."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry about coming here," said the Snow Maiden. "It was a mistake. I need a car right now."

"You know I don't own a car."

She looked to the coffee shop owner. "Him. Tell him I need to borrow his."

Heidi did so, and although the Snow Maiden couldn't hear what they were saying, the shop owner's expression was enough. The Snow Maiden crossed to the counter, waved the man into the back room, then drew her pistol, put it to his head. "Keys. Now."

He fished into his pockets. She took the keys, then motioned for Chopra and Hussein to head out the back door.

In the alley, they found the man's little Kia. She ordered Hussein into the trunk, told Chopra to lie across the backseat, and gave the keys to Heidi. "You need to drive."

Heidi was beginning to hyperventilate. "Viktoria!"

"Stay with me, and I'm going to tell you what's going on. Okay? I need your help."

Heidi fought for breath, took the keys, and climbed into the car.

"We need someplace secure. Maybe at the university?" the Snow Maiden asked.

"Okay, okay."

As they pulled out, she called Patti. "Unexpected friends here. Are they yours?"

"Yes, they are," said Patti. "And you should be thankful. The Americans sent operatives. We took care of them for you. Don't try to drop off the grid again, are we clear?"

"We are," she said through gritted teeth.

"Meet me tomorrow at eight A.M. Cafe Gavoroche. I'm sending you the map now."

"All right."

"Now there's no need to rush off just yet, if you'd like to spend some time with your friend."