"My wife's father," Saul said. 'I think he's one of the team." The room seemed to shrink. "What about the two men you mentioned--Seth and

Icicle?"

"Assassins. Sons of Nazi assassins. I think their fathers are two of the war criminals the cardinal protected. If Avidan's team moved against their fathers, Seth and Icicle would want to know who was doing it and why. They seem to have decided that the cardinal was the key to the puzzle. If they found out why the cardinal disappeared, they'd find out why those war criminals became targets after so many years."

Gallagher gestured toward Arlene. "So how do you fit into this?? Who's

Drew?"

"No more questions," Saul said. "Erika's all that matters. / have to get this damned thing off her." That afternoon, he'd asked Arlene to buy the metal clippers Seth had claimed he'd need to get the belt off Erika once Seth was out of radio range. Now Arlene reached in her purse and gave (hem to Saul. He pressed them against the metal belt and hesitated.

"Arlene, maybe you, Gallagher, and the priest ought to get out of here.

In case this thing blows up."

"If you think it's that risky, don't do anything." Saul shook his head.

"Suppose Seth isn't out of radio range. You said Drew was chasing him.

Seth might press the detonator."

"Maybe we should all get out of here," Gallagher said. "I'll phone for an Agency explosive expert."

"By the time he got here, it might be too late." Saul studied the wires attached to the metal belt and box. "Unless... maybe. Yes, it just might work." He hurried to unplug a lamp on a bureau. With sweat-slippery hands, he used the metal clippers to snip the cord from the base of the lamp and cut the electrical plug from the opposite end of the cord. "What are you doing?" Gallagher asked. Saul was concentrating too hard to answer. Gently, he pressed the clippers against the rubber insulation on the cord, nicked it two inches from each end, men peeled off the strips of insulation, exposing the wires.

He went back to Erika and secured one end of the cord to a bare wire leading from the metal box to the belt He attached the other end of the cord to a second bare wire leading from the box to the belt He'd been afraid mat the bomb would go off if he cut the belt and interrupted an electrical circuit But now the lamp cord provided the same function that the belt did. In theory, he could now cut the belt, and the circuit wouldn't be damaged. In theory. "I think,"

Saul said, "that this would be a good time for all of you to leave."

Unprotesting, Arlene raised the priest from the bed. "Gallagher, let's take a stroll to the end of the hall."

"Romulus?" Saul waited.

"Good luck."

"Thanks." Gallagher grinned. "You're something else." Ten seconds later, Saul was alone with Erika. Aching with love, he pressed the clippers to the front of the belt and snipped it. The phone rang precisely when he'd anticipated the explosion. The harsh sound jolted his nerves; his heart lurched. "Shit!" The phone rang again. He tried to regain control, working with as much speed as caution would allow, removing the belt and the bomb from Erika's waist. Careful not to disturb the wires he'd attached to it, he set the apparatus on a chair.

The phone kept ringing. He grabbed it. "It's Drew! For God's sake, don't try to take that bomb off your wife! Seth lied! The bomb's rigged to explode if the belt's opened!" Saul sank onto the bed and began to laugh. 'Wow you tell me?"

"What are--?" Saul roared. He knew he sounded hysterical, but the release felt too good for him to care.

"Everything's fine. The bomb's not on her anymore."

"How, sweet Jesus, did you manage that?" Saul's laugh became one of affection toward his friend. Drew was the only person he knew who could make an expletive sound like a prayer. "With some help from a lamp cord. I'll tell you about it when I see you. But are you okay? Arlene said you'd gone after Seth and Icicle."

"Yes... Seth's dead. Icicle killed him."

"What?"

"Icicle's been wounded. If we help him, he promises to tell us anything we want to know." At once Saul stood. "Where should I meet you?"

"The park south of Constantine's Arch. That's where I left Icicle.

We'll be waiting along the Via di San Gregorio."

"Are you sure we can trust him?"

"Yes. He was the one who told me not to try taking the bomb off your wife. He didn't have to warn us. He didn't have to help Erika. When we talk to him, I think we'll get the last of our questions answered."

'I'll be there in twenty minutes." Saul set the phone back onto its receiver and hurried from the room toward Arlene, Gallagher, and the priest in the corridor. "Arlene, please stay with Erika. Take care of her." He ran toward the elevator. "Just wait a damned minute,"

Gallagher said. "I'm not through with you. Where do you think you're going?" 'To meet a friend and bring back an Icicle. Tell your medical team we're going to need them again." When the elevator took too long to arrive, Saul rushed down the fire stairs.

Dusk and the chaos of headlights made Saul despair of noticing Drew and

Icicle as he sped past Constantine's Arch, driving his rented car down the Via di San Gregorio. Pedestrians thronged the adjacent sidewalks. I should have asked Drew which side of the street he'd be on. But Drew was suddenly ahead of him, his arm around Icicle as if holding up someone who'd drunk too much. Saul steered in their direction, hearing angry car horns behind him, and skidded to a stop at the curb. The instant

Drew helped Icicle into the back of the car and shut the door, Saul sped away. Icicle wore the jacket that Drew had been wearing this afternoon.

The blond assassin's face was as pale as his hair. Blood soaked through the arms of the jacket. "How badly is he hurt?" Saul asked. "Shot in both shoulders. One of the bullets passed through. As much as I can tell, the other's still in him. He's delirious."

"Halloway," Icicle murmured. "Who's Halloway?" Saul glanced back toward

Drew. "I haven't found out yet. Whoever he is. Icicle sure doesn't like him."

"Pay the son of a bitch back," Icicle said. "Why?" Drew asked. "Sent

Seth to kill my father," Icicle said. "Why would Halloway... ? Is he an Israeli?" Icicle laughed. "No."

"It doesn't make sense." Saul steered around a corner. "If Halloway isn't an Israeli, why would he be involved with the team that went after the Nazis?"

"Night and Fog," Icicle whispered. "And how does that fit in?" Saul asked. "The Night and Fog was a Nazi terror tactic during World War

Two."

"I wonder if... Could it be he just explained the Israeli team's method of revenge?" Drew asked. Saul shuddered as he steered around another corner. "Using Nazi tactics against their enemies? Abducting war criminals and making their families suffer as Jewish families suffered during the Holocaust. Erika's father is involved in this insanity?"

"A passion for revenge," Drew said. "Because of the murder of my parents, I know all about hate. I was hate for many years. And I know when you borrow the tactics of your enemy you become your enemy. You learn to hate yourself." Saul remembered the hate with which he'd stalked and killed his foster father to avenge his foster brother's death. But getting even for Chris hadn't brought satisfaction, only a terrible hollowness. "I've got to find Erika's father. I've got to stop him."

"Halloway," Icicle murmured. "Who is he?" Drew asked. "If he isn't

Jewish--"

"The Painter's son."

"Oh, my God," Saul said. "The Painter was the nickname for the assistant SS commandant at the Maidanek death camp. Day after day, he processed--that was his word, that was how he thought of it, a system, a disassembly line--thousands of prisoners through the gas chambers and the ovens. At night, he painted idyllic scenes of forests and meadows."

"Was Halloway's father the assistant commandant at Maidanek?" Drew asked