The look she gave him would have been comical if head felt like laughing, if his heart hadnat been lodged somewhere between his Adamas apple and his bronchial tubes. aIam sorry, you are so not the priest type. I know what you need, Nilsson.a aWell . . . maybe getting laidas just not a priority for me right now.a She gave him another look. aNow why donat I believe that?a aNot all men are like Daniel,a he told her. aWe donat all think with our dicks. Excuse my crudeness.a aThatas such bullshit,a she said, surprising him even more. He didnat know she knew that word. aThe entire world revolves around sex, and you know it.a aI disagree.a aProve it.a He laughed. aYeah, right. How?a She moved fast then, faster than head thought her capable of moving, and straddled his lap, pushing his shoulders back, down onto the blanket.

He was completely unprepared, completely caught off guard.

Shead nearly knocked the air out of him, and there was no way he could catch his breath, not with her lying on top of him, her breasts against his chest, her hands holding his wrists above his head, her mouth a fraction of an inch from his, the warmth between her legs ground intimately against him . . .

Sweet Christ.

aWhat are you thinking now?a she breathed.

Nils kissed her. How could he not kiss her with her mouth so close, with her body so soft against his?

And oh, God, her mouth was as sweet as he remembered. He kissed her hungrily, frantically, unable to stop himself even though he knew this wasnat real. Even though he knew he was failing her test.

Prove it. He was proving something here, but he wasnat sure exactly what.

And then she was gone. Just like that, shead rolled off of him.

Leaving him gasping for air, with an instant hard-on that was embarrassingly obvious through his flimsy cotton shorts.

aIf getting laid werenat a priority,a she told him, her voice shaking, aif, like most men, you werenat thinking with your dick, you would have laughed and gently pulled me off you. You mightave been embarrasseda"probably more for me than for you. You mightave apologized. What you wouldnat have done was try to stick your tongue down my throat.a aAre you completely insane?a Nils said as soon as he could speak. aDo you do this all the time, Meg? Because there are men who might not understand your little lessona"men who might not like being teased like that. You do this to them, and you just might find yourself with a lot more than you bargained for.a aI canat see you anymore,a she said.

Oh, Jesus, now she was trying not to cry. How the fuck did this get so crazily out of hand?

aLook, give me Joelleas number. If you want me to, Iall call her, Ialla"a He reached for her, but she jerked away.

aDonat touch me!a aIam sorry.a She was up and heading for a garbage can. He followed. aMeg, youave got to cut me some slack here. This friendship thing is all uncharted territory for me. Youave got to give me credit for trying. I mean, how many days have we spent together? About ten, right? Ten days, and I only try to . . . to stick my tongue down your throat oncea"and when enticed, might I add? Thatas pretty damn good in my book.a aIam having trouble keeping my hands off of you.a She spoke so softly, still facing the garbage can, it took Nils a moment to realize what shead said. And then he couldnat speak. He was using all of his energy, all of his focus, on not reaching for her, on not taking her into his arms.

aMaybe thatas not such a bad thing,a he finally said.

aIt is,a she said. aItas a terrible thing. Iam married. I took vows. And I know what youare thinking. That Daniel took vows, too, and he didnat manage to keep his, but . . . I need to go. I have work to do this afternoon.a He followed her back to the blanket. aDo you want me to bring over a pizzaa"a aNo.a aa"later? We could talk. I think we need to talk.a She gathered up the blanket and jammed it into her bag. aI think you need to go back to California.a aMeg, youare my best frienda"a aThatas ridiculous. We hardly know each other.a He followed as she headed toward the street. aI disagree.a Head told her more about himself than head ever told anyone. They might have been friends who desperately wanted to become lovers, but they were, first and foremost, friends.

aI have a deadline. Iall be working until late tonight. Iam really sorry, John.a The tears were back in her eyes. aThis is completely my fault. I thought I could ignore my attraction to you.a She waved to hail a cab, and a taxi skidded to a stop in front of her. aIam sorry,a she said again, climbing in and shutting the door.

aDrive,a he heard her order through the open window, and the taxi pulled away, leaving Nils standing in the street.

aCall me,a he shouted after her. aMeg, please? Call me!a There was no way Starrett could have spotted her.

But he was moving more quickly now and Alyssa Locke had to work to follow him. He disappeared for a moment in a crowd of lunchtime shoppers but then reappeareda"his bright blue baseball cap standing out in the crowd.

Lt. John Nilsson had gone missing.

It wasnat official. Head been given thirty-six hours of free time by his CO, and there were still quite a few hours to go before he was AWOL.

But he wasnat in his hotel room. It was possible he had a girlfriend in the area that no one knew about, but it was even more likely that he was off the map.

Meg Moore was gone, and Nilsson had followed. Locke was sure of it.

And although Ensign Starrett had been questioned and claimed to know nothing of Nilssonas whereabouts, she knew better. Roger Starrett and John Nilsson were tight. Starrett knew exactly where Nils wasa"and it was just a matter of time before Nils contacted him.

Locke had taken it upon herself to be Starrettas shadow during all her off-duty hours. Shead talked Jules into helping her out, and between the two of them, they had Starrett covered.

Who needed sleep anyway? Locke sure as hell wasnat getting any. Not with her sister Tyra on the verge of going into the hospital. Trailing Starrett helped keep her mind off thata"at least it should have. But today she was so damn distracted, she barely could have followed herself.

She trailed Starrett now down a crowded city sidewalk. He was pretty far in front of her, but then he took a hard righta"into a McDonaldas.

Figures he liked fast food.

It took her close to a minute to reach the door, but once there, she could see his cap through the front window as he stood in line to get his daily dose of high cholesterol.

So she waited outside, pretending to windowshop at a jewelry store while keeping her eye on that blue cap, wishing she had the money to buy one of those expensive watches for Tyra.

Starrett finally made his way to the head of the line, ordered his Double Heart-Attack to go, paid, and turned to leave.

aNo!a Locke couldnat believe it.

The man in the blue cap wasnat Sam Starrett or Roger Starrett or Houston or Bob or whatever dumbass redneck nickname the SEAL was going by today. In fact, the man in the blue cap wasnat even a man. He was a woman who was about as tall as Starrett, but thatas where the similarities ended.

Shead been screwed.

Locke wasnat aware shead even spoken aloud until a honeyed voice behind her drawled, aJust name the time and place, sugara"Iall be there with bells on.a Starrett.

She spun around to find him grinning at her. His cap was gone, and she took grim satisfaction in seeing that without it, he had hat hair. There was a big, unattractive, sweat matted, indented ring around his head where heat and the cap had given his hair that special, unmistakable style.

aYour big mistake was focusing on following a piece of clothing rather than an entire person,a he told her. aItas nothing to be ashamed ofa"thatas a pretty typical beginneras error.a aWhat did you do?a she asked. aPay that woman to wear your hat?a aTwenty bucks if shead keep it on for ten minutes.a Starrettas teeth were much too white and straight. Redneck assholes were supposed to be missing at least a few.

aSo you knew I was following you?a Duh, obviously. She rolled her eyes, disgusted with herself. aStupid question.a aI spotted you back by the Starbucks.a aThat soon?a She couldnat hide her dismay.

To her surprise, he didnat make fun of her. aYouare really pretty good,a he said. aActually, youare exceptionally good. But remember, Iam a SEAL, Alyssa. When you trail someone whoas had that kind of training, youave got to be better than exceptional. You got to figure I donat go anywhere without constantly checking my sixa"turning around and seeing who and whatas behind me. Itas automatica"I just do it. And another thing. You might want to work a little bit more on blending, you know, into the crowd?a Locke looked down at her dark pants and suit jacket. aI blend.a aYeaha"provided the crowdas all FBI agents. You want to trail someone on the streeta"especially if youare a hot-looking babea"dress down, skeeve up a little. Jeans and T-shirt. Sneakers. No makeup. And how the hell did you expect to keep up in those shoes?a aI was doing fine.a That was a lie. She wasnat doing anything close to fine. She was hot and exhausted and distracted and thinking of Tyraa"waiting for her pager to go off or her cell phone to ring.

aFeet hurt?a She hesitated only slightly as she looked into Starrettas neon blue eyes. aYes.a He smiled, and for once it wasnat one of those Boy Howdy cowboy grins. It was a real smile. He gestured with his chin just down the street. aYou want me to wait while you run into the drugstore and pick up some Band Aids?a She blinked at him. aWait?a aYouare following me because you think I know where John Nilsson is, right?a She didnat answer. No way was she telling him that.

aNaturally you canat admit it, but we both know Iam right. Which means that even when we shake hands and say, aSo long, have a nice day,a youare going to keep on following me. FYI, Iam walking all the way to that fancy toy storea"itas probably still about four blocks down. My nieceas birthday is next week and since Iam not going to be able to visit, Iam so screwed.a He laughed. aIam going to have to send her the entire damn store. After maxing out my credit card, Iam heading all the way back to the hotel, stopping at as many bars as possible along the way. Your feetall be bleeding by then if you donat get Band Aids.a aYou have a niece?a She couldnat help askinga"she couldnat imagine it.

aBriana. Sheas going to be four. Sheas my older sisteras kid. Lives up in Boston.a He knew what she was thinking and he gave her another of those real smiles. aImagine that. I have relatives who donat live in a trailer park. I was thinking of getting her a collection of toy guns so she could shoot all those awful Teletubbies.a Locke had to work not to smile, too. What was wrong with her? Or maybe she should ask what was wrong with Starrett? What was he up to, anyway? Aside from that initial rude comment about naming the time and place, calling her sugar, he was actually being . . . friendly . . . ?

aI donat suppose it would help if I stated againa"for the recorda"that I do not know where John Nilsson is,a he said.

She just looked at him.

aRight.a He laughed. aCome on. Go grab those Band Aids, and weall try this again. You know what they saya"practice makes perfect.a Starrett sat down on a bus stop bench, and as Locke went toward the drugstore, she glanced back at him. He made a ago ona motion with his hands.

So Locke went inside. It took about ninety seconds to find the Band Aids and pay for them. She went back outside and . . .

Starrett was gone. The bench was empty.

aDamn it!a Her cell phone rang. She flipped it open. aLocke.a aMistake number two, angel face. Donat let the suspect out of your sight.a It was Starrett.

She should have known. She should have suspected that his being so freaking nice was just the setup for this particular assinine punch line. She could hear him laughing at her. aYouare such an asshole.a aI couldnat resist,a he said. aIam sorry. I was sitting there, and . . .a aWhere are you?a He laughed even harder. aNice try.a She flagged down a cab. Head said he was going to that toy store. Shead simply get there first.

aI donat supposed youad want . . . Nah, forget it,a he said. aIf I asked you to have lunch with me, Iad be having lunch, but youad just be having some up close and personal surveillance. That would kind of ruin it for me, you know what I mean?a aI donat need to meet you for lunch to find you,a she said. She covered the mouthpiece and leaned forward to speak to the taxi driver through the slit in the clear plastic shield. aThereas a toy store a few blocks down . . . ?a aYou only found me after I disappeared in the Micky Das because I let you find me,a Starrett countered. aIf I donat want to be found, youare not going to find me. Letas get that straight. The first thing you need to do, lesson number one, dear heart, is to learn your place.a Locke laughed in disbelief. aWhich, according to you and some of the other Neanderthals you work with, is on my back with my legs spread, am I right?a Starrett was silent. aShit,a he finally said. aIam momentarily stunned by the picture that brought to mind. Donat do that to me, Locke, I have a vivid imagination. My brainas likely to explode. Among other body parts.a aFuck you.a She heard herself say it and wished she could take it back. What was it about this man that always brought her down to his degradingly foul level?

aWhy, thank you,a he said. aFuck you, too, babe. The sooner the bettera"youare way too uptight. Hey, I bet that cabdriver would do you if you threw in an extra twenty bucks.a Shit. Shit! Locke turned around to look out the back window. Wherever Starrett was, head been watching her get into the cab.

aOf course, we both know youare saving yourself for me,a he continued, laughing again.

aYeah, in your dreams.a aWhat I meant by you learning your place was that youave got to lose this James Bond mentality. Humility, Alyssa! You havenat earned your license to killa"not yet. You want to be a great FBI agent? Sign up to train with the SEALs. You could probably even get into some kind of modified BUD/S programa"modified because youare FBI, not because youare a woman. Donat start making those insulted noises at me. Jesus, you do need to learn to relax. What do you say tonight, my hotel suite? Hmmm? You and mea"we could do a little stress management exercise that I highly recommend. Wead have the place to ourselves, because, you know, John Nilsson seems to have disappeared.a Locke made a strangled sound.

aNo? Too bad.a Starrett said. He sighed. aIn that case, so long, sweet thing. Have a real nice day.a

Eleven.

THE CLOCK ALARM went off a few minutes after six.

The heavy curtains kept out the light of the late afternoona"what little light there was. The day had turned gloomy and overcast, the clouds threatening rain.

Meg had checked into this rundown motel a little after noon. Shead reached her limit and had to sleep. Shead tried pulling off the road and sleeping in the car, but it was too bright, she was too worried about someone seeing Razeen in the backseat. And she desperately wanted to use a real bathroom.

Osman Razeen was still asleep on the other motel bed, his arms stretched uncomfortably over his head. Meg had had to position him that way, using the handcuffs to lock him to the wooden headboard.

She was going to have to dissolve another handful of sleeping pills into a glass of water and pour it down Razeenas throat, praying that she didnat give him too many, knowing that she couldnat afford to give him too few. She had to keep him completely out of it. And then she had to get him back in the car.

Meg stretched, wishing she had enough time to take a shower anda"

Oh, God! She sat up, fumbling for her gun. The shadowy figure of a man had just stepped out of the bathroom.

aFreeze!a she said. aDonat move! Who are you? What are you doing in here?a Maybe it was one of the Extremists. Maybe theyad somehow followed her here. Maybe Amy and Eve were out in the parking lot right now.

She reached over and turned on the light.

aOh, my God,a she whispered.

It was John Nilsson.

He glanced once at Razeen, then turned his attention back to Meg, taking in her messed hair and long-smudged makeup, her rumpled clothes, her gun.

Held with a shaking hand.

Meg used her other hand to support it, aiming directly for Johnas chest. Please, God, donat let her shoot him by accident.

He looked as bad as she dida"no, he looked worse. His eyes were rimmed with red, his chin covered with stubble.

aGod damn it,a he said. aWhat were you thinking? I was so goddamn sure I was going to find you dead. Give me the gun.a He took a step toward her.

aDonat come closer!a He stopped. Glanced again at Razeen. aDo you know who this is?a He was really angry. Shead never seen him angry before, she realized. Not like this. aThis is Osman Razeen, a Kazbekistani terrorist leader. You donat get to be a terrorist leader, Meg, by playing nice. If you give him even half a chance, heall slit your throat.a aI know who he is.a She couldnat keep her voice from shaking. aIam trading him to the Extremists for my daughter and grandmother.a aSo you did lie to me. You fucking looked me in the eye and lied. The Extremists want the ambassador dead. Help me save Amy. I canat do this on my own. Achub fi.a Save me. He shook his head, his voice getting even louder. aJesus! I went out on a limb for you, Meg. On my good name and honor, I convinced both my CO and the FBI that you were telling the truth, that you were in trouble and wanted and needed our help.a aIam sorry.a aFuck sorry!a he shouted. He was actually shouting at her. He was livid. aSorry doesnat cut it when the bullshit youave been shoveling is way up past your head. You were just using us. You were using me. You know, Meg, when it comes to getting fucked by you, I would have preferred finishing what we started three years ago.a Meg flinched at the harshness of his words, but she knew she deserved that. She deserved everything he was saying, and all of his anger, too.

He was breathing hard, and he drew in a deep breath, letting it out in a rush of air. He looked as exhausted as shead felt when shead stopped to sleep, six hours ago. aGod damn you.a aGod doesnat have to,a Meg whispered.

Some of his anger melted from his face, leaving behind . . . sorrow? aCome back with me, Meg. Please. Let the FBI find Amy.a aI canat.a He was inching closer. She couldnat actually see him move, but somehow he was getting closer. aStop it, John! Stay back.a There was a sudden sharp crack, and Meg turned to see Razeen launch himself off the bed, directly at her.

He was awake.

It was a rather inane thought since of course he was awakea"the man was in motion, in midair.

As the world went into slo-mo, the details were suddenly crisp and clear, but her ability to react was nonexistent. She was frozen in place.

The splintered wood from the bedframe exploded out. Razeenas eyes were open and focused intently on her gun, his lips back in a snarl. He hit her hard, his shoulder against her right arm, and the gun went flying in a burst of pain.

He smelled like perspiration and urine and the garlic chicken head had for dinner, courtesy of the FBI safe hotel. His body was heavy against hers, pushing her back against the bed. He scrambled off of her, wrists still cuffed together, going after the gun.

She could see it, gleaming faintly, under the cheap motel desk that was attached to the wall. If Razeen got there first . . . aJohn!a He was already there, already grabbing Razeen by the jacket, flinging him back to the other side of the room. But Razeen had grabbed the desk chair, taking it with him, turning and brandishing it now as a weapon.

Shrieking, Meg dove for the gun as Razeen swunga"not at John, but at her. As her fingers closed around the cool metal of the handle, she braced herself. This was going to hurt.

She heard the sound of breaking wood, and turned to see that John had stepped directly between Meg and the chair. Head caught the brunt of the blow on his shoulder and back, his arm held up to protect his head. It could have killed him. Couldnat it have? A blow like that to the head?

She was screaming again, trying to get the gun up and aimed at Razeen, praying that John wasnat hurt. Please God, please God . . .

But Razeen was left defenseless, holding a useless bit of wood, and, as Meg watched, John lit into him. Two quick punches and one hard elbow to the back of the manas head, and Razeen dropped to the floor.

John turned back to Meg, breathing hard. aAre you all right?a He was bleeding. A piece of the chair had cut hima"he had a gash on his right arm, by his wrist. He glanced once at it, then ignored it.

aOh, my God, the last thing I wanted was to put you in danger, too!a She couldnat catch her breath. Perfecta"now she was hyperventilating. She scrambled out from under the desk, gun in one hand, the other over her mouth and nose. aStay back! Iam not kidding, John! I think you better just leave.a aMeg. Jesus. Iam not going to leave. Not without you.a There were splinters of wood in his hair. aWhat if I hadnat been here? What if I hadnat found you? Youad probably be dead right now.a How had John found her . . . ? Realization dawned and was joined by a rush of panic. aOh my God, the FBIas got this motel surrounded, donat they?a He rubbed the back of his neck, rolled both his shoulder and his eyes. aDonat be ridiculous. If they were out there, Iad be talking to you through a bullhorn. Theyad never let me come in here like this.a Meg moved to the window, peeked out through the curtain. The parking lot was nearly as deserted as it had been when shead pulled in at noon. There was one other car out therea"one with Maryland plates. It had to be Johnas. Was it possible the FBI was there, but completely hidden?

She looked at John. aHow did you find me?a aThatas not important.a aYes, it is. If it wasnat through the FBIa"a aI just . . . found you, Meg. I can find you. Iam good at finding you, all right? Too good, sometimes. Shit.a Why wouldnat he tell her? He had to have used the FBI to track her. That had to be it. She was going to walk out that motel room doora"either with or without John Nilsson, and within seconds shead be down on her face in the gravel parking lot. Her guns would be gone, and Osman Razeen would be taken into custody.

And Amy and Eve would die.

Meg aimed her gun at Razeenas head. aI think the FBIas out there. So now I have no choice. Thanks a lot, John. Now Iave got to kill him.a Her voice shook, her hand shook, her very soul was shaken. But if it were a choice between Razeen and Amy . . .

She looked at Razeenas dark hair, imagined it matted with blood. All it would take was for her to tighten her finger on this trigger.

And this manas life would be gone. Oh, God . . .

aWait,a John said. aWait. Meg. Okay.a She hadnat managed to convince herself that she could actually do this, but apparently shead convinced John.

aWildCarda"Kenny Karmody, remember him?a he continued, talking low and fast, as if he were afraid if he spoke too loudly, shead be startled and pull that trigger. aHe just developed this new tracking system, and Sam Starrett was helping him beta test. You remember them, right?a She nodded. Starrett and Karmody. Theyad been with John in K-stan, with Abdelaziz.

aIt was purely by chance, but Sam dropped one of the test tracking devices into your jacket pocket. Iam the only one who followed you here. I swear to you, Meg. The FBI doesnat even know about WildCardas system.a She lowered the gun. aIam supposed to believe you came all this way all by yourself?a He looked at the gun, looked at her, and she knew he was going to try to take it away from her. She aimed at Razeen again.

aSit down,a she ordered John. aRight there on the floor. Right now.a He sat. aYour turn, now. Lower the gun.a She did.

aThank you,a he said. aJesus.a He took a deep breath, let it all out. aWildCard was supposed to come with me, but he couldnat get away. Sam was on duty. I didnat want to wait for either of them. Meg, youave got to believe me about this. The FBIas not out there. Iam the only one who knows where you are. Youare not in danger, thereas no reason for you to kill Razeen. Letas get that established here, okay?a Meg looked at her jacket. It was where shead left it this morning, on the foot of the bed shead slept in. She reached for it now, reached into the pocket and . . .