Field Decision

====================== Field Decision by Ed Howdershelt ====================== Copyright (c)2003 by Ed Howdershelt First published via Abintra Press Abintra Press www.abintrapress.tripod.com Fiction

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*Chapter One* The Mercedes taxi threaded its way through swept-aside mounds of late-November slush and snow to halt at the curb in front of a turn-of-the-century style building near the center of the US Armed Forces Education branch of the Kaiserslautern Universitat campus. The tall stone wall and cyclone fencing around the compound made it obvious that access to the area was restricted to US military and other authorized visitors, but just in case someone failed to notice the wall and fence, there were four-foot-wide signs by the guard shacks warning visitors that their cars were subject to searches. _'Looks more like a prison than a school,'_ thought Cade. Ed Cade's decision to take a taxi had been based on his unwillingness to risk his own car unnecessarily on streets clogged by the sudden snowstorm. They'd probably have the streets mostly cleared by noon, but it was only a two-mile trip; not worth scraping the windshields and not far enough to warm the engine enough to make the car's heater useful. The building was of large-block stone construction that had been typical in the Saar region of Germany at the turn of the century, complete with concrete overhangs above each window, a steep slate roof, and a demeanor that might have been perfect as the setting for a horror movie. Edward Cade approached the offices of the university's consulate-liaison facility through a light sprinkling of December snow that was all that was left of the winter storm that had raged for three days as it had slowly moved south. He'd read somewhere that Kaiserslautern, West Germany, was located at about the same latitude as Winnipeg, Canada, but that the winters in Germany didn't seem to be quite as severe as Canada's. Looking around and sensing the air, he decided that they weren't even as bad as some of the winters he'd endured in northeast Texas. Two men of student age were emerging from the building as he climbed the steps. One of them asked him in German if he knew how to get to the gymnasium. Cade shook his head and said, "Weiss nicht. Ganz neu hier auch."_-'Don't know. Completely new here, also.'_ The men nodded a _'thanks, anyway'_ and moved down the steps as Cade entered the building and looked for the elevator. One of the guys commented to the other on Cade's accent and speculated that he was from Mannheim. The other thought maybe Munich.

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Cade thought, _'Heh. Try Dallas, guys.'_ In actuality, Cade's German was the product of having had German exchange-student friends in junior high and his one year of high school, as well quick classes in Virginia and lots of local practice. He entered the elevator, remembering the directions he'd been given. _"Fourth floor, turn right from the elevator, sixth door on the left. Be there promptly at eight, please. I want to handle this before the offices open. Goodbye."_ The woman's instructions had been terse, as had all her comments during their phone conversation. Not hurried; just brief. _Succinct_ was the word. John had said that she might have a problem with asking his offices for help in finding her seventeen-year-old daughter, who'd been AWOL from home for over three months. Cade's tiny branch of the agency was barely known outside their own wing of the third floor, so everyone who knew about them at all usually assumed that they were the same kind of down-and-dirty spooks that populated the top two floors of the building in downtown Kaiserslautern. They weren't. At least, Cade wasn't, and he didn't think any of those he directly worked with were, either. When Cade had first joined John's extraction crews, he'd wondered why the hell they'd located their primary offices so far from the East German border, but that had begun to make sense to him quickly. Nearby Ramstein Air Force Base could provide state of the art air support and transportations and the blast-proof Kindsbach facility could track communications and aircraft all over Europe. Add to that the best-equipped US Army hospital in Europe only a few miles south at Landstuhl, a place that received almost as many transient covert visitors as it received actual patients. He then began to wonder why they bothered to maintain separate offices in Berlin, Frankfurt, and Bonn, since the E-teams were all part of a much larger agency network, but experience had quickly disabused him of any notion that the branches of the agency could or would work well together without coercion. The politics in the other offices ranged from petty backstabbing efforts and manipulation to gain promotions to phenomenally deceptive and sometimes obstructive ploys to gain control or political favor both within the agency and from outside. John's offices weren't like that, partly because they existed only to further a single purpose; to extract people from Iron Curtain countries and to support agents who lived and worked on the other side of the line. The only way to advance within the agency from John's offices was to leave them for another office. Ed Cade believed that it took a kind of sociopath to follow an _'anything for the cause'_ banner. He'd never found a way to turn off his brain and blindly follow orders, and John knew him well enough that Cade had never been assigned to work with any of the other offices in the building. John had warned Cade that Debra McAlister seemed to have the typical resentment of the intelligence community that seemed to be fashionable lately. It was John's opinion that the grousers resented the need for the agency more than the agency itself. That need didn't fit into their preferred public image of things. A missing seventeen-year-old daughter had driven McAlister to look beyond the usual sources for assistance. Some friend or acquaintance of hers had suggested that she speak to Cade's boss. John had left the matter of Cade's involvement up to him to determine by calling it a _'field decision'_. Cade could take the job or leave it, supposedly without incurring any hard feelings if he didn't take it. John had warned Cade that the woman was likely to be rather difficult at first. Cade had decided to play it by ear, but he'd let her know up front that her full cooperation was essential, and that without it, he'd refuse the

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case. The attractive blonde woman who answered his knock on the office door was a living example of conservatism. Her hair was bound tightly and she wore a matching jacket and skirt of some indeterminate shade of brown over her tall, lanky frame. She wore very little makeup and her earrings were simple little gold studs. Her rather mechanical greeting lacked warmth, as did her _'I'm in charge here'_ demeanor. "Hi," he said, unbuttoning his coat. "I'm Ed Cade. John sent me." She seemed to study him for a moment before saying, "Yes. Of course. I'm Debra McAlister. Please have a seat by the desk, Mr. Cade." She offered no handshake, instead waving him to a chair by the desk as she walked toward it. He'd no sooner sat down than she handed him a manila folder inside a large envelope. Cade took a moment to riffle the folder's contents. Inside it were pictures and copies of German police reports and reports from the U.S. authorities. The latest item in the folder was over a month old, dated October. That probably meant that nobody was looking too hard anymore. Cade noticed that McAlister seemed to be staring at him. He looked up and met her gaze as he asked, "Yes?" McAlister's hand fluttered briefly above her desk in a vague gesture and she said, "Oh. Nothing. Well, something, really. I expected someone a little older..." "I'm not a trainee," said Cade. "If that's what you're worried about." She gazed at him for another moment, then said, "You're what..? Twenty-five?" "Twenty-three in June," said Cade. He grinned and added in a confidential tone, "Don't worry, ma'am. If I get in over my head, the grownups will take over." The woman had the grace to blush slightly as she nodded and said, "I'm sorry. I was just expecting ... Well, never mind." To give her a moment to recover, Cade said, "I smell coffee. Mind if I get a cup?" "_I'll_ get it for you," McAlister said quickly. "Would you like cream or sugar?" Her abrupt, intense response surprised him. He'd been expecting to receive directions to the pot, not an offer to bring him a cup. When he looked up, it became instantly apparent by her expression and manner that she simply didn't want him wandering around her office. Cade said, "Black, with a little cold water to make it drinkable right away, thanks." She turned her head slightly to regard him oddly in passing. Cade watched her head for an anteroom in a brisk march. It seemed to him that she was a good-looking woman trying to hide herself in that severe outfit. Cade scanned the documents and pictures in the folder, asked a few questions, and sipped coffee for the next half hour. During that time Debra McAlister said nothing when she wasn't answering a question, and she answered questions sparingly at best. After having to coax a more detailed answer out of her for what was probably the fifteenth time, Cade regarded her quietly for a moment, wondering if she was like that with everyone or just him, and whether her mannerisms were part of the reason her daughter was missing. In a firm tone, she said, "Mr. Cade, I don't appreciate being stared at." "Too bad," said Cade. "I'll bet you get a lot of looks, even in those clothes. Anyway, I wasn't staring; I was speculating about something. Do you have anything useful to add that isn't in this folder? Personal comments? Well-reasoned guesses?" The blonde woman's gaze narrowed. Her words came in low tones. "_Speculating?_ Let's get something straight, Mr. Cade. I deeply resent

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having to turn to such sordid sources for assistance. I also resent the fact that they obviously thought so little of this matter that they sent one of their newest people to handle it. You'd be well advised not to irritate me further, and when you address me from now on, you'll include my title." Cade settled back in his chair, sipped his coffee, and gazed at her. _'Irritate you further?'_ thought Cade. He hadn't yet begun to irritate her. It would be unavoidable if he was going to get around her so that he could look into things. "McAlister," said Cade, "I was hired because of my qualifications and experiences, not my age. I was only speculating that your tight-assed nature may have driven your daughter out of your house, and you're just an embassy politician who called my boss for some unofficial help after the usual methods hit a dead end. I don't give a rat's ass whether you like me or not, and if you try to play power games with me you'll find that I don't play them at all." With utter astonishment, the woman responded, "Is that some kind of a _threat?_" Cade shook his head disgustedly. "Hell, no, it isn't a threat, lady. I don't _have_ to take this case. I'd just tell John to find someone else. We're short-handed, McAlister. It could be three months before anyone else is available for your personal problems, and they'd have to be _willing_ to become involved. This matter isn't official business. It's more like a trade of favors." Debra McAlister was staring at him. She seemed to be having trouble forming words for a moment, then asked in a hushed tone, "_Three months?_" Cade quietly said, "Yeah. Three months. We stay busy, you know. As I said, I'm not here for you, McAlister. I'm here for your daughter and because John asked me to look into things for you. I'm also here on my own time and I'll walk if you give me too much more trouble, so let's skip all the pecking-order crap and get down to business." With a slight glower, she asked, "Your _own_ time? What does that mean? You work for the agency, and since the agency assigned you to me, you're working for _me_." Cade shook his head. "_Wrong,_ lady. I told you, this _isn't_ official business. It can't be, for our outfit. I'm on leave between assignments. I have to use the leave time or cash it in. When John told me about your problem, I decided to use the time this way. I can damned well change my mind about using it this way, too." The blonde said nothing for some moments. Cade prompted her. "So, let's try this again. Is there anything you want to tell me that isn't in this folder? Sandy seems like a bright, outgoing young woman. It may be some kind of facade, but you seem exactly the opposite. You're a divorced mother of one who is trying to maintain a career and ride herd on a teenaged daughter while stationed in Europe, and you haven't seemed like a real friendly sort to me so far. I'm sure someone's already asked you this, but is it at all possible that Sandy's just run away from home for a while? Away from Mom in particular?" Debra McAlister drew herself stiffly upright and asked, "How-_dare_-you..?" "I just do," said Cade drily. "It's a gift, I guess. That's a question you'll have to face more than once if this goes any farther, so save the indignant outrage for someone who'll give a damn, McAlister. I'll want a good look at your home and her room in particular, and then I'm going to mill this stuff down for a few days to see if there's anything left to follow. I want numbers where I can reach you day or night, without secretaries or flunkies asking me why I want to talk to you. If there's any reason at all to suspect foul play, we can make the investigation official enough that I won't have to bug you for expenses. John can handle those details on an 'if or when' basis." When the blonde simply stared at him for another few moments, Cade said, "I can't go to work on this until you loosen up, lady. These reports all

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say that the cops have signed off. They seem to think that she's tanning on an island in Greece and that she'll call home when the money runs out. Maybe they're right, but _you_ don't think so and _you_ called _us_ for help. For some reason John thinks this may be worth a look, so he offered it to me, and that's where we are now. I'm willing to spend some of my leave time looking for her. Take it or leave it, but make up your mind real soon." Cade set his coffee cup firmly on her desk and shoved the folder into the large envelope. He then reached for her yellow legal pad and wrote three numbers at the top of the page, then tore the page in half and presented her both pieces of paper. "My numbers," he said. "Now give me yours." In fact, her numbers were on file, as were every other official of any rank. Cade wanted to see her sign herself into cooperation by giving them to him. If she did, and if the numbers checked out against her numbers on file, she'd be ready enough to proceed. If she didn't give him the numbers, Cade would drop the folder on her desk and spend his leave elsewhere. Debra McAlister stared at the torn yellow paper on her desk, then glanced at her phone, considering whether to call John to see if Cade was telling the truth. Cade shoved her desk phone next to the legal pad. He softly said, "Yeah. Good idea. Go ahead, McAlister. Verify what I've told you. I damned sure would. You want me to wait in the hall?" She looked up from the phone and their eyes met. Despite the tenseness between them, she felt that he was telling the truth, but she had to be sure. Just as softly, she replied, "Yes, please. This is important to me." Cade nodded and hefted his empty cup. "No problem. I'll refill this on the way out. Look, I'll have to pick your brain about Sandy, so we need to be able to get along for at least a little while, okay?" She nodded slightly, then grimaced inwardly. Damn. Cade had led her with his words; first to agree that he should wait in the hall, and then to nod agreement with his statement _'that they need to be able get along for a little while'_. Cade watched her face change slightly with self-reproach. "You think I'm trying to manipulate you, Debra?" "Yes. I think you do it without realizing it." "Could be. _You_ realize, though, that I'm here to help you find your daughter, not to sell you insurance, right?" He grinned slightly. McAlister found herself returning the grin and nodding again and said, "You did it _again_. When every sentence deliberately leads to an agreement, that's manipulation." He said, "Well, damn. Guess you think I'm doing it on purpose, huh?" She snorted a stifled chuckle and said, "And _again_. That's five in a row, I think." Cade smiled at her and said, "Well, then, here's your chance to change the pattern, ma'am. Care to make it six times?" "_No!_" said the blonde, raising both hands in grinning mock protest. She reached for her phone. "Now get out there and let me call your boss." Cade rose from his chair and headed for the coffee. He refilled his cup and took a seat on the bench in the hallway next to a discarded or forgotten German newspaper and picked it up. It was one of the two Kaiserslautern dailies. Like local papers everywhere, there was little within it to interest anyone from beyond the area, but an article about the U.S. Army hospital in nearby Landstuhl caught his attention. It turned out to be a diatribe about misbehaving soldiers. That, too, was hardly remarkable, since such problems were commonplace for every town near every military base in the world, U.S. or other. Cade remembered the incident mentioned in the article, but what the article had failed to mention was that the bar in which the squabble had occurred had tried to charge a group of off-duty GI's forty bucks each for the

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four bottles of cheap champagne they'd consumed in celebration of someone's promotion. That had been a mistake, given that one of the guys worked in the Provost Marshall's office. He told the bar manager that there would be no payment without a proper receipt that he could show his boss. The manager had said that nobody had ever asked for a receipt before and that he had none to give and continued to demand payment. The GI had stood his ground on the matter until one of the bar girls had taken a swing at him. Also unmentioned in the article was the fact that a bar girl who sold a bottle of champagne received a hefty commission on the sale. When the girl tried to hit him a second time, one of the other GI's restrained her, the manager had hit that guy, and that's when the real fight started that wound up in the street outside the bar. The bar manager later told the German cops and the American MP's that the whole altercation had been a misunderstanding that had gotten out of hand. The GI's didn't have to pay for the overpriced champagne, but were "asked" never to return. Without a receipt, the Army couldn't -- or wouldn't -- put the bar off-limits, but word had spread around the base quickly. The new bar in town had closed due to lack of business after only a month. Cade heard the office door open and the blonde's voice say, "Mr. Cade?" He rose to his feet. She left the door open and retreated into the office. Cade picked up his coffee cup and followed her, shutting the door and taking his previous chair. As he sat down, she asked, "Cade isn't your real name, is it?" "It's real enough when I'm working. And when I'm not working." She nodded slightly and handed him the yellow paper with her numbers. "John confirmed that you're on personal leave and that this investigation will be unofficial unless evidence of wrongdoing is found. I guess that means you'll need some expense money, doesn't it?" "Not much. Enough to cover travel expenses for a week or so and maybe some tips for information. Call it a hundred bucks. This won't get expensive until or unless I actually find her trail. Something else, McAlister ... Sandy's going to be eighteen soon and that will make her a legal adult in most of Western Europe, just like the States. I can't bring her back to you against her will after her next birthday." The blonde sat very still for a few moments, gazing at Cade. "Mr. Cade, I can't tell you how I know this, but I do. Sandy's in some kind of trouble. I don't have any proof. I haven't heard anything or seen anything that the police would call a reason for thinking so, but I'm her mother. Can you understand that? Are you sure a hundred will be enough?" She pulled her checkbook out of her purse. Cade nodded. "For now. No checks, please. I'll stop by for it tomorrow." She rooted in her wallet and came up with some bills. "I have about forty on me. Will that be all right for now?" Cade took the money. "Fine. If I can't turn up anything, it may be all I'll need." "You don't sound too hopeful, Mr. Cade." "I'm not trying to sound hopeful. I'm trying to sound pragmatic. A lot of things can happen to a young woman in Europe, just as they can happen to one in the States. Some of those things are good. Some of them are bad. Some are very bad. I hope you've considered that possibility." Debra McAlister's face set in a determined mask as she said, "No, Mr. Cade. I haven't allowed myself to envision what may be happening to her, and I won't. I understand what you're saying, but I refuse to dwell on it." Cade stood up and took the folder from the desk. "Well, then, if it's good news, I'll deliver it myself. If not, I'll let the authorities handle contacting you when they take over the case." McAlister stood up, too. After a moment of hesitation, she stuck her

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hand out awkwardly and he took it. "Well, Mr. Cade, goodbye for now, I guess." He nodded and said, "For now. Stay put. I can find the door." Outside, the wind had picked up slightly. Cade buttoned his coat and thought about checking in with John, but decided it wasn't immediately necessary. His apartment was as good a place as any to go over the reports again. If anything unusual needed further examination, he could visit the offices the next day. The walk to the front gate of the university allowed him to get a look at some of the other buildings on campus. They were remnants of a past era that clashed with the modern, glass and steel structures on the other side of the campus wall. He waited in the guard shack's anteroom for a taxi rather than walk the two miles home. -------*Chapter Two* The day after his first meeting with Debra McAlister, Cade went to her home when she got off work and -- under her watchful eyes -- searched Sandy's room. McAlister stood in the room's doorway throughout the search, but said nothing until Cade started pulling drawers out of the dresser and turning them over onto the bed. "What the _hell_ are you doing? The MP's didn't see a need to wreck her room." "They were afraid of you, ma'am. I'm not. Make yourself useful. Look at the bottoms of drawers and up inside the bureau they came from." The blonde was agitated. "Look for _what?_" Cade pulled out another drawer and dumped it, then pointed at the tape residue on the bottom. "For anything unusual. The reports said that Sandy was always treating her friends to movies and snacks and the occasional taxi ride. They also say she was able to get them booze, that she wasn't employed and received only a small allowance from you, and that she had no other known sources of income. Where's her Dad?" "He's in the Air Force in Colorado." "Did he correspond with her? Send her things? Send her money? Maybe he tried to get her to come live with him?" "No, he lives in a BOQ on base. There's no room in his life for a teen daughter. He sent gifts at all the usual times. Not money. Or if he did, I wasn't aware of it." The fourth drawer also had tape residue in a pattern that had held a legal-sized envelope to the bottom of the drawer. He held the drawer's bottom where Sandy's mother could see it. "Sandy's hiding place, or one of them. Any idea what was in the envelope?" Debra McAlister shook her head slowly as she entered the room for a closer look. "No. It could have just been a favorite letter, Cade. Something from her father or a boyfriend." "Tape's stretched and deformed. It was a well-stuffed envelope." "All right, then, maybe she was saving more than one letter." "Maybe. Check under all the other drawers in the house while I finish in here." "What am I looking for?" "Anything you didn't put there," said Cade. "Don't forget the phone table in the hallway. We'll also be checking under all of the furniture." It was a long afternoon, but the search paid off. Two un-dusty books on the top shelf of the shelves in the living room yielded three hundred dollars in twenties and a phone number written on a scrap of newspaper. Debra wanted to call the number to see who answered, but Cade stopped her. "Let me find out who the number belongs to first. I have a friend at

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the Bundespost. She disappeared without this money, but not without the other envelope. Does that mean she simply forgot about it, or that she couldn't get back here for it? Or maybe she thought she wouldn't need it or was saving it for later? Got any idea where she got three hundred bucks?" The blonde woman's voice was small and soft. "No. I don't know, and I don't want to think about it." As Cade was about to speak, Ms. McAlister raised a hand and added, "Yes, I know I have to think about it and I am thinking about it. I just don't want to." Cade nodded distractedly and looked around the room again. "You don't have any kids, do you Cade? If you did, you'd know how hard this is for me." He said, "Yeah, you're right, McAlister. I can't know how hard this is for you and I never will, so let's stay on track, here." In a condescending tone, she said, "Oh, yes, you will. Someday you'll have kids of your own. Something will happen. Something always does. Then you'll understand." Cade turned to face her and said, "I don't have to understand, I don't want to understand, and I won't ever have to understand, McAlister. My girlfriend had a bad scare in March of '71 when she thought she was pregnant. It was a false alarm, but the whole mess scared me as much as her, if not more. I realized that I very definitely didn't want children, so I did something about it." "What..? You mean you had a _vasectomy_?" He nodded. "Seventy bucks and three days of discomfort. No worries, ever." Her shocked voice was almost shrill. "But what if you change your mind?" Cade snapped, "That'll be my problem, not yours. Can we get back to searching, now? When you were her age, where did you keep your secrets? The ones that wouldn't fit in an envelope, that is? The ones you wouldn't dare keep inside the house?" Debra seemed to have to regroup herself for a moment. Her anger resurfaced. "I didn't _have_ any secrets that wouldn't fit in an envelope, Mr. Cade. I take it we're moving the search outside, now?" Cade nodded. "Yup. For now, anyway. We're looking for loose boards or bricks and we'll check all the bushes and look for fresh-turned dirt." "I almost hate to ask, but what are you expecting to find?" "Drugs, money, anything unusual. Why did you ask what you already knew?" She didn't answer for a moment, then said, "I'm just having a hard time accepting the possibilities, I guess. Never mind. Let's go outside." Cade held her coat for her as she slipped into it and then held her arm on the icy steps as they descended to the walkway. She seemed not to know what to do next, so he told her to tap on the house's skirting to see if any of the boards were loose. As she tapped her way along the right side of the house, he tapped the left side, but neither of them discovered any unsecured boards. They met at the back of the house by the rear porch steps. Cade tried all those boards, too, but none felt as if they'd lift without the aid of a pry bar. McAlister was looking up at the eaves and roof below her daughter's window when her foot rocked slightly. She stepped off that flagstone and onto the one behind it without thinking, never taking her eyes off the roof. Cade walked over and stood looking down at the flagstone. It was about a foot and a half square, but Sandy wasn't a small girl. If she really wanted to, she could have moved that stone. Cade got his fingers under the edge of it and lifted it. McAlister's soft exclamation told him he'd found something before he'd lifted the stone enough to see for himself.

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"Oh, no..." Cade pulled the stone to one side and saw the child's lunchbox that had been buried beneath it. It was a typical square metal lunchbox with cartoon characters embossed into the lid. He reached for it, but McAlister protested. "Maybe we shouldn't touch it." "We're wearing gloves and we need a look inside it before it disappears into an evidence locker." Cade managed to work the lunchbox out of the hole without disturbing the surrounding dirt too much and set it to one side, then flipped the catch open and lifted the lid. Debra McAlister's knees gave out at the sight of the contents of the box. She was suddenly kneeling next to Cade and using his shoulder for support. "Oh, no, not my little girl..? Please? Not my little girl?" Cade said nothing as he lifted the flick-open knife off the top of a pile of condoms. It was one of the blade-in-the-handle knives. You shoved a button on the side inward and the blade shot forward out of the handle instantly. He tested it. It worked fine, but made McAlister startle rather ungently. "Sorry," said Cade, returning the blade into the handle. There were easily fifty or so condoms in the box. Cade handed the knife to McAlister and then shoved some of the condoms onto the lid as he searched the box. In the bottom right side of the box he found several joints and five one-hundred dollar bills in a blue _Par Avion_ envelope with a Berlin return address. Debra McAlister sobbed heavily, let the knife fall from her hand into the box, and tried to stand up. Her first attempt failed, and Cade got to his feet to help her, but she slapped his hand away with a sobbing, tearful snarl and heaved herself upright on shaky legs. She climbed the steps to the back porch door, let herself in, and then found the door into the house locked. She picked up the brass ashtray and appeared to be on the verge of smashing the small window near the door handle, but after a moment of indecision, she put the ashtray down and came back down the steps. Stopping a few feet from Cade, she fished through her pockets. Cade quickly handed her one of his handkerchiefs. She took it, then looked at it more closely. "This is a paper towel." "So? They do the job. I'll bring this stuff in if you want to go on ahead." The wind was picking up a bit, whipping light flurries of snow into their faces. McAlister nodded and turned to go. Cade gathered everything into the box and followed after kicking the stone back into position to cover the hole. He didn't hurry. She needed a few minutes to gather herself. Cade set the lunchbox on the front porch and stood watching the evening and thinking until he heard the front door open behind him. "Aren't you cold?" she asked. "Not enough to matter. Are you okay?" She sighed. "No, but I've stopped crying for now and I put a pot of coffee on." "Be right there, then." Cade picked up the lunchbox and carried it into the house, then wondered where the hell to put it. McAlister didn't seem ready to deal with it, so he didn't feel right about setting it on the kitchen table. He looked around for a likely spot and felt a hand on his arm. Debra McAlister took the lunchbox and placed it on the kitchen counter, then threw a dishtowel over it. She poured two coffees and set them on the table, then sat down with her back to the lunchbox and invited Cade to join her. Cade took his cup to the sink and added a bit of cold water, then sat in the chair next to hers. A few minutes of silence passed before she stood up and quickly left

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the room. When she returned ten minutes or so later, she set a box of tissues on the table as she again took her seat. Cade said, "I'm just going to sit here and soak up your coffee until you feel like talking. No hurry." She nodded. Cade took out his memo book and wrote the name and address that he'd read from the envelope, then put the memo book back in his jacket pocket. Debra watched silently as he toed his boots off and put his feet up on one of the other chairs. He then settled back with his coffee and thought about how best to proceed. Either Sandy had been hooking or she'd been keeping that box of stuff for one or more of her friends. There'd been nothing in any of the reports that could tie her to that sort of activity, but that might mean only that she'd never been caught. Casual hooking -- on base and off -- was more common than anyone wanted to admit or believe. When military dependents were caught at it, the whole mess was normally handled quietly and the military parent or guardian was usually transferred elsewhere rather quickly. When drugs were involved, the mess could get a lot messier, but the results were usually the same, eventually, unless the dependent was over seventeen and so deeply involved that charges had to be filed. Sandy had left behind an eight hundred dollar stash, assuming that they'd found all of it. It seemed unlikely that she'd have left the money behind willingly. What seemed more likely was that she'd stumbled into something that she couldn't stumble back out of. Turning the lunchbox over to the cops was the next thing to do. It should give them sufficient motivation to re-energize their investigations. "Mr. Cade?" "Here." Cade turned his attention to her. "What now? Obviously, we have to bring in the police, but what can they do that they haven't already?" "Probably not much. They've put their lines out like fishermen hoping for a nibble and you'll hear tales of budget woes and lack of time if you try to get them to do more than that without more than you have to show them. Hooking is only a misdemeanor in most of Germany, if that's what she was doing. And it could be that she was just holding that stuff for a friend." "Do you believe that?" "I don't have to believe or disbelieve it. It's just a possibility, like the possibility that she was hooking. We won't know until we find her, and maybe not even then." "What does that mean? _'Not even then'_? Are you suggesting she's dead?" Cade sighed and said, "Won't know that until we find her, either. Are you sure you're up to talking about things like this, McAlister?" Debra McAlister sat quite still for a moment, then said, "I guess I have to be, don't I? Sandy's been missing for months and we've just found evidence that she was involved in criminal activities. If she were your daughter, what would you do now?" "Keep looking. There isn't anything else _to_ do." "And if you find her, what then?" "I guess that would depend on her condition when I find her. Someone may have been holding her captive. The slave trade is something nobody wants to acknowledge, and it comes in a lot of flavors. The porn industry uses people without mercy. White, blonde women disappear into the Arab countries and wind up under a kind of house arrest. The native women hate them and will rat them out in an instant for any little thing, but if they try to leave, they'll be stoned in the streets, so they have no choice but to remain inside and in service to whoever bought them." "You're serious? They really still do that?" "Last year we -- that is, my team -- pulled four American and Canadian women out of Iran. Two were pregnant and it was a helluva trip over the

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mountains for them. They'd been bar hopping in Paris one night and they woke up in Iran with rotten hangovers the next night. They'd been there for over three years. As I understand it, one of them had enlisted the aid of a lovestruck young man to get word to the US embassy. He was _'accidentally'_ killed when the Savak caught him, but we had the four womens' names and locations and used the info before the women could be moved and hidden." "What's the Savak?" "Iranian Secret Police. Arab gestapo. Nasty bastards, every one of 'em." "Does your office work for the embassy, too?" "Nope. One of our informants at the embassy caught the info on the fly and relayed it to us, then sat on it for a full four days while we went in for the women. If she hadn't kept it quiet, the embassy pogues would have blown it by trying to negotiate matters. The Iranians would have given everybody blank looks and bullshit until the women were safely hidden elsewhere, then they'd have simply said that the info was wrong." "So how did your people get them out?" "We let the Savak guys find us with a deliberate tip, then 'borrowed' their uniforms to visit each of the locations like stormtroopers. Nobody in Iran argues with the Savak. The US embassy guys saw four Savak guys and four blondes in an overdressed Cadillac pull up to the gates and panicked a little, I guess. It took us fifteen minutes to convince them that we all belonged inside the compound. They arranged a helicopter ride out of Iran for us later." "What happened to the men who bought the women?" "Not a damned thing, as far as I know, but at least they're on somebody's watch list from now on." "Do you think that's what happened to Sandy? That she's been kidnapped?" "It wouldn't be the worst that could have happened to her. If she's alive, there's always a hope that she'll get away or get word out." "If she's alive ... Please don't talk like that, Mr. Cade. I know it's possible that she isn't, but..." "Yeah. But. Okay. What I'd do now, Ms. McAlister, is give this stuff to the cops. I'd call both the MP's and the German police and ask them to be here at a specific time, then present the box and let them wrangle over who gets it. That will make sure everybody has to acknowledge the evidence later. _Pro:_ It may give them a kick in the pants to get moving on the case. _Con:_ Cops moving on the case may make someone react poorly and cause Sandy to be put either deeper into hiding or in danger. It would also expose Sandy as a possible hooker and jeopardize your position here, and we still don't know why or how she disappeared." Debra McAlister stared at the cloth-covered box and shuddered. "God, I hate letting anyone see what's inside that box..." "You have to do it sooner or later. Do you have a camera, Deb?" His use of her contracted name caused her to glance sharply at him. "A what? Uh, yes, one of those instamatics. Why?" "We need pictures of the stuff. If the whole mess gets swept under some bureaucratic rug, you'll need something to show the media." "The _media!? Jesus, Cade!_ Are you _crazy?_ It's bad enough the cops have to see this ... This _stuff!_" "Uh, huh. And if the evidence disappears, you'll need a way to prove that there was something more to this than a runaway teen. Get the camera, please." "Just hold on a minute, Cade. I want to know why you think there's any possibility that this box would _'disappear'_." Cade sighed. "Well, damn, McAlister, why don't you just think about that while I call John? You work for the embassy. You know that cases are dropped all the time for one reason or other, aren't they? Somebody's diplomatic toes might get tromped, or someone might be embarrassed, so

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something is ignored. The fact that it's _your_ daughter who's missing instead of someone else's won't make any damned difference. You _know_ how it goes, so don't play the Pollyanna with me and _fordamnsure_ don't delude yourself. If they decided not to pursue this, you'd be on the first plane back to the states and the evidence would disappear." She sputtered and stiffened, then started to make a reply that began with, "The US Embassy..." Cade held up a hand to stop her. "Bullshit," he said flatly. "Don't forget who I work for, McAlister. Sometimes we have to work _around_ you embassy types to get things done. I'll make that call to John while you bring me that camera." -------*Chapter Three* Debra McAlister watched Cade get up and walk to the phone table in the hall. As he ambled across the room, it occurred to her to wonder if he ever moved quickly. Cade disturbed her. At first she'd written it off to the fact that he worked for the agency, thinking that she'd prejudged him willingly on that basis alone. As she rose to cross the room on her way to the stairs, she stopped to look in the hall bureau drawers and took an opportunity to glance in the mirror at Cade, who was standing almost directly behind her in the hall. She was surprised to find that Cade's eyes weren't on her legs, as she'd expected them to be. They were looking right back at hers in a quiet, expressionless gaze. She busied herself completing her 'search' for the camera and walked to the stairs. "That's right, John," Cade was saying as she started up the stairs, "Money and rubbers. Yeah, I know, but it doesn't feel like that." Debra stopped at the top of the stairs to listen. "I think she was taken, John. Yeah, I know that, too, but I don't think so in this case. No, not yet. We'll call them after we've taken some pictures of the stuff and the kid's room. Okay, I'll pull a couple of hundred and turn in the rest. I'll toss in some of the rubbers, too, and take a tissue sample from the box. Yeah. Okay, see you." As Cade hung up, Debra moved away from the stairs and into the master bedroom to get the camera, then quickly returned downstairs. Cade was sitting at the table again when she entered the room. He had the box open. "Mr. Cade, why are you removing money and condoms from the box? What was that about a tissue sample?" Cade didn't look up from what he was doing as he pulled bills from the top, bottom, and middle of the roll and placed them on a sheet of plastic wrap. He then put a strip of the condoms with the bills and swiped one of the inside corners of the box with a Kleenex before placing the tissue on the plastic wrap, as well. "Samples for the lab," he said. "They'll look for drug residue and check to see if the bills are counterfeit." "Won't the police do that?" "If we do it, we'll know it was done and done right." Separating the pile on the plastic wrap from the rest, he snapped several pictures of the lunchbox and its contents, then headed outside to shoot the hole. As he headed back up the steps, he took a moment to look around the neighborhood, then took another few pictures of the surroundings in general. Debra watched him until he turned to reenter the house, then turned away and pretended to be interested in the box on the table. "McAlister," he said as he entered the kitchen. She looked up at him. "Yes?" "It's time to call the cops." Cade wrapped the plastic around the items and put them in his coat pocket, then opened the camera and removed the film. He put that in the same pocket. Debra hadn't moved from her seat.

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"The cops?" prompted Cade softly. "I can call them if you'd rather." He meant only that he'd make the call if she wanted. That was all. But Debra rose slowly from her seat and faced him glaringly. In an icy, precise tone, she said, "Mr. Cade, I can and will make the call to the police about my missing daughter." She then turned and stalked to the phone. Cade stood up, rapped his spoon on the table once, and said, "McAlister." Debra stopped, then spun to face him, and sharply asked, "What?" Cade moved to stand facing her a few feet away and said, "I was just trying to give you a break, McAlister. Here's how it goes with the cops: I'll stick around and you'll tell them I'm just a friend. Let them find out on their own who I work for; it will have more impact that way and they'll realize that there's no way to sweep this case under the diplomatic rug. Call the Americans first and see how soon they can get someone down here. Call the Germans when the Americans are on their way. We want everybody to arrive at more or less the same time." After a moment, Debra asked, "Anything else?" "Yeah. You thought I was poking at you when I volunteered to call. This isn't about you and me or how well we get along. Nobody's paying me to make fun of you and I don't particularly think that teasing distraught mothers is fun. From now on, you _will_ try to hear _exactly_ what I say and you _won't_ interpret my words." Without waiting for a response, Cade turned and walked back to the kitchen, where he poured himself another coffee and sat down. Debra stared at his back, her call momentarily forgotten until she noticed the receiver in her hand. She dialed the base MP's. They said they'd send someone down shortly, so she then called the German police. They responded similarly. Setting the receiver back on the phone, she went to the kitchen and refilled her own cup, then sat down across the table from Cade. "They said..." "I heard," said Cade. "Now we put the box back in the hole and wait." "Why put it back?" "Let them find their own damned evidence. They like it better that way and they don't need to think that we might have taken anything out of it. Pretend we just glanced inside and then ran to the phone. Give the table a wipe where the box was sitting. Use tissues or something flushable." Debra bristled. "I don't like being ordered around." Cade sighed and said sharply, "_Now,_ McAlister. Do it _now_, before the cops get here. Flush the tissues. _That_ was an order. Do it while I call in." She didn't move immediately, preferring to glare her opinion of him at him as he turned to go to the phone, but as Cade dialed, he saw her doing as instructed. John answered the phone with, "Hello, Cade. I thought you might be able to stand her a little longer than this." Cade chuckled and said, "You'd have felt silly as hell if it wasn't me on the line. Is Linda in the office?" "She is. She's busy, too, so don't keep her long." A few seconds passed before Linda Baines said, "Yes, Ed?" Cade glanced back at McAlister, who was glaring sullenly at him and said, "Hi, Linda. Got a minute? Someone here needs reassurance. Or something." "Well, that's certainly vague enough. I'll assume you're not referring to yourself. What's the problem?" "Ego clash, I guess." He filled her in on their discoveries in and around the house, then said, "I'd like you to give her reasons for cooperating that she can believe. The cops will be here shortly." "I see. Okay, put her on." Debra was surprised when Cade held the phone toward her and said, "It's

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for you," but she rose from the table and approached him, taking the phone and saying, "McAlister here. John?" Cade heard Linda say, "No. Not John. Don't talk, McAlister. Just listen," before he leaned against the doorjamb and watched as Debra McAlister listened to Linda's words. When she paled and seemed to sag against the wall, he used his foot to shove the low stool by the phone table under her. She tremblingly adjusted the stool's position and settled onto it. Several moments later, Debra McAlister nodded slightly as she agreed to something and slowly reached to hang up the phone. She looked bleakly at Cade for a moment, mumbled, "I need a minute," and then quickly stumbled up the stairs. Cade went back to his coffee and waited. The doorbell rang before she'd returned, so he went to open the door. The two German cops on the porch seemed slightly surprised to see him, then somewhat more surprised when a US Army jeep pulled up behind their green and white Volkswagen. "Come in," said Cade. "Do you both speak English?" "Yes, sir," said the blond cop. "There would be little point in sending someone to deal with Americans who didn't speak English." He seemed to consider his words briefly, then added, "I meant no offense, of course. I meant only that most Americans speak no German." Cade nodded and gave the guy a wry grin as the cops entered the house. "Sorry to say it's true. No offense taken. Did you call the Americans?" The blond cop, apparently the one in charge, looked confused as he said, "No, we did not. Our office said a woman called. Where is she?" "She's upstairs at the moment. She's very upset. Maybe she called them." "Uhm, yes, perhaps so." Cade reopened the door for the two MP's and said, "Come on in." As they passed him, he whispered, "Did you guys call the German cops?" One of the MP's glanced at the German cops and shook his head. Cade smiled slightly as he closed the door behind them. The subterfuge concerning who called whom was a small thing, but it might well be useful later. Once they were all inside, he called upstairs for McAlister to join them. A door upstairs opened and she said that she'd be down in a moment. The MP with red hair said, "Someone called us about a missing person. You?" "Uh, no," said Cade. "I'm not missing and I didn't call you." The MP looked skyward briefly and said, "This is no time for jokes, sir. How about showing us some ID?" Cade shrugged and fished out his DAC ID for the MP. "You, sir," the blond German cop asked Cade, "How are you involved in this?" "Yeah," said the red-haired MP. "Good question." "I'm a friend," said Cade, gesturing at the top of the stairs. "Deb called me when she got worried about Sandy." "This 'Deb' is a woman named McAlister?" asked the MP. "Oh. Right. Yeah, Debra McAlister." "And Sandy is...?" prompted the other MP. "Her daughter. Deb found a loose stone in the walk. There's a lunchbox full of money and stuff under it. We think Sandy's gotten herself into some trouble." The MP seemed to be studying Cade's ID card. He handed it to the other MP and said, "Run this, Jackson." Turning to Cade, he said, "The ID says you work for the State Department. Doing what?" "I'd prefer to let the State Department tell you that. Their rules, not mine, okay?" The expression on the MP's face said that it wasn't really okay, but he asked, "What can you tell us about the problem here? What was in the box besides money?" "You'll have to ask Deb about that. I'm just here for moral support."

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The other MP had moved a few paces away and was talking on his radio, reading information off Cade's ID card. He suddenly looked up at Cade and said, "Harris, Captain Carson is on his way here." Harris glanced at him, then at Cade, and asked, "Do I want to know why?" "Couldn't say," said Cade. The two German cops had let things transpire until Jackson's tone had indicated that something other than routine was unfolding. "Captain Carson wouldn't be coming here without reason," said the blond cop. He looked at Cade. "What reason might that be?" "Me, probably," said Cade. "And the fact that Deb works for the US embassy. How about letting these guys see my ID, too, Harris?" "Yes, please," said the German cop. As he handed the blond cop Cade's ID, the red haired MP asked, "You guys know Carson?" The blond cop nodded, but didn't elaborate. He read Cade's ID card, then handed it to the other German cop, who likewise called it in to the office. Looking back at Cade, he asked, "Did you see the contents of the box?" "Yes." "What was in the box other than money, sir?" "I'd prefer to let you speak with Ms. McAlister about that, since it concerns her and her daughter." "It would appear to also concern you, sir." At that moment, Debra McAlister's voice, stronger than before, said, "I'll show you the box. It's in the back yard." The other German cop leaned to ask the blond cop, "Was bedeut _'back yard'_..?" "_Spater_," said the blond cop, waving his question aside for the moment as he stepped forward to greet the woman on the stairs. He was obviously rather impressed with her, even though her face bore the red puffiness of crying. Extending a hand to her, he said, "Good day, lovely lady. We are here to assist you however it may be possible." "Your English is commendable, sir. Thank you." She took control of the group by handing her DAC ID to the MP's and saying, "I'll show you the box now," as she headed to the back door. Cade trailed the little group and stopped by the kitchen table, where he picked up his coffee cup and changed course for the pot. The red-headed MP asked, "You aren't coming?" "No." "I think it would be better if everybody stayed together for the time being," said the blond cop. "It's cold out there and the coffee's in here. I'll be right here at the table, guys. You can see me through the door. I promise not to try to escape." The two cops, one American and one German, glanced at each other, then the MP said, "We'd really prefer that you come with us." Cade sat down at the table and sipped his coffee. "Somebody has to let Carson in when he gets here." Having no way to coerce Cade politely, they dourly trooped out the back door and into the lightly falling snow to join McAlister. Through the glass panel of the door, Cade watched them take pictures, move the stone, take more pictures, open the box without moving it, and take more pictures before lifting the box out of the hole. The doorbell rang. Cade opened the front door, found an Army captain on the porch, and said, "You'd be Carson. Come on in. Coffee's on." As the man entered the house, he said, "And you must be Ed Cade. The description matches, anyway. Coffee can wait, thanks. Where are my men?" Leading the way through the front room, Cade said, "Out back with the woman who called you and two German cops."

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"German cops? Did she call them, too?" "Must have. I didn't call them." Cade opened the back door for the captain and stood aside as he passed through. A few steps later, the captain heard the door close and started to ask, "Who..?" before he noticed that Cade wasn't with him. When he looked back through the glass panel, Cade raised his cup and smiled from his chair by the table. Carson looked at his men, then back at Cade, then he went back up the steps to the door and opened it. "You're not coming out, too?" "You already have five people tramping around out there. You make six, and they have the cameras. You don't need my help." After a moment, Carson said, "Okay, then. Don't leave," and closed the door. Cade got up to add a couple of scoops of coffee and some water to the pot and set out some extra cups, then returned to his seat to watch proceedings in the yard. More pictures, a bit of discussion that made McAlister become slightly agitated, and then Carson picked up the box and headed up the steps to the house. Cade set a paper towel on the center of the table and pointed at it as Carson came through the door. Carson took the hint and set the box on the towel. "Coffee's up," said Cade. "Serve yourselves, people. You're going to be here for a while, so you may as well get comfortable." He caught McAlister's attention and guided her to a chair, then went to refill her cup and bring it to her. The attentive gesture caused Debra's eyes to narrow slightly in suspicion, but Cade ignored her look as he sat down. Carson said to his men, "You guys can get your coffee in the mess hall. Leave your notes and head back to base. I'll get with you later about reports." Plainly disappointed that they were being excluded, the two men left as ordered. The German cops helped themselves to coffees and brought them to the table as Carson went to get one for himself. After half an hour or so of questioning, the German cops decided that the matter of a missing American girl should be handed to their superiors and asked for Debra's assurance that she'd drop by their station later to make and sign a full report. They also wanted to take the lunchbox with them, but Carson told them that it and any lab results would be accessible to them on base. After a call to their offices, they left without the box. Carson remained seated at the table, using a corner of the paper towel as a coaster for his coffee cup as if marking his claim to the box. He sipped his coffee thoughtfully for some moments, saying nothing, as he let his gaze rest first on McAlister, then Cade. "I'm wondering what you haven't told me," he said. Debra looked puzzled. "I've told you all I know," she said. "What about you, Cade?" "Her daughter is missing. We found the box. She called the cops." "Your offices don't usually get involved in this sort of thing, Cade." "I'm on leave." "That's the official story?" "That's the only story, Carson. I'm off the clock." Carson rose to refill his cup, saying, "You really expect me to believe that?" "Check with my office. I'm on leave." "Uh, huh. How do you know Ms. McAlister, here?" "A mutual friend introduced us. We've been together ever since." Carson glanced at Debra, then back at Cade. Sitting down with his coffee, he fixed Debra with a gaze and asked, "Is that true, ma'am?" With only a moment's hesitation, Debra said, "Yes."

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Carson pursed his lips and looked thoughtful again for a moment before saying, "Well, then, if I may say so, ma'am, Mr. Cade is a very lucky man." He was expecting a response of some sort to his statement; something that would validate or negate the impression of togetherness that they seemed to want him to accept. Quietly startling both Carson and Cade, Debra smiled slightly and looked into her coffee cup as she said, "So he tells me fairly often. Maybe I should believe it." She glanced at Cade as she raised her cup for a sip. He made an effort to smile back at her and said, "It's about time you started listening, lady. Why do you have to hear it from _him_ to believe it?" When she simply continued smiling and made no answer, Carson said, "Well, I'd better get this back to the lab and file a report. You realize, don't you, that your daughter is probably just ... Well, she's probably just giving you a hard time, ma'am. Kids do that, especially when they're her age. The money in this box may be her life's savings and the..." he paused uncomfortably, "Uh, other stuff ... Could be she's just holding them for one of her friends. She'll probably call for bus fare home soon or wander in on her own." Debra stared at him long enough to make him even less comfortable, then said in an ominous tone, "We know about how long she's been gone and I've seen what's in that box. I'm past platitudes, Captain Carson. Don't even consider treating this as anything less than a serious matter. If I think for one moment that anyone isn't doing his utmost, I'll raise all the _hell_ my offices can muster and drop it on him instantly." Carson raised both hands in placation and said, "I'm sorry, Ms. McAlister. I was only trying to make you feel a little better." "Well, please don't," she said. "The only thing that will make me feel better is finding my daughter and bringing her home." Picking up the lunchbox, Carson edged away from the table and said, "I'll be on my way, then. You have my word, ma'am. We'll do our best. So will the Germans." With the beginnings of tears in her eyes, Debra nodded slightly and softly said, "Yes, I know you will. I'm sorry for leaning on you like that. Thank you." Just as softly, Carson said, "You just hang on, Ms. McAlister. Don't let go, no matter what. We'll find her for you. Call me if you think of anything that could help." With a glance at Cade, he headed for the front door, where he stopped briefly to glance back again. Cade nodded to him and Carson left. Debra McAlister was trembling, her fists clenched in her lap as she stared at the tabletop. Perhaps three full minutes went by before she spoke. "Mr. Cade..." "Ed. Or Cade. You don't need the 'mister'." She didn't look up and continued as if he'd said nothing. "That woman -- Linda Baines? -- told me ... She told me some of the things that have happened to young, white, American and Australian women in Europe, especially those with light-colored hair and eyes." Cade said nothing and sat still. As she'd said, she didn't need platitudes, and he couldn't think of anything to say that would help. "She said ... Some are kept and some are sold ... And that if they don't cooperate, or can't ... Or when ... Oh, Mr. Cade ... Ed ... How can people _do_ that to other people?" She shook her head as if canceling her attempt at speaking, then let her head loll back and stared at the ceiling for a time, her tears damply streaking her face. _'Damn, Linda,'_ thought Cade. _'You were only supposed to soften her up a little. You could have left a little room for doubt, couldn't you? Now she's half-convinced her kid's dead in a ditch somewhere in Libya.'_ Cade scooted his chair next to hers and pulled her to him, wrapping his

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arms around her and simply holding her as her tears wet his neck and shoulder and her racking sobs began. Darkness had fallen before the sobbing had finally wound down to deep sighs and the tears stopped flowing so freely. He helped her to her feet and would have helped her to the stairs, but she waved him off and proceeded on her own. Cade stood by the table and watched her stumble to the stairs. Once she was out of sight, he started scrounging the fridge and cabinets for whatever would assemble into a passable meal at his hands. People usually felt starved after blowing themselves out the way she had, but he couldn't envision her doing anything about dinner in her present mood. As he worked, he heard footsteps on the front walkway and went to see who was out there. The woman was about to ring the bell when he opened the door. She seemed startled to see him, then asked for 'Frau McAlister'. He gestured up and told her that Frau McAlister was indisposed. The woman complimented him on his command of German and handed him two envelopes, saying that they'd been misdelivered next door. He thanked her and promised to give them to Frau McAlister as soon as possible. She smiled and said that it was good that Frau McAlister had found such a nice man, then turned to leave. Cade closed the door behind her and set the mail on the stand by the door before returning to the kitchen. Debra McAlister was a woman who regarded herself well, and possibly rather highly. She'd worked damned long and hard for her place in the world; she'd earned it and she knew it. She also knew that anything resembling a show of weakness was inherently dangerous, and as she flushed the tissues from another short bout of tears, she felt as if she'd exposed her emotional jugular to the man downstairs. Her thoughts came to her in staccato bursts. The woman in the bathroom mirror was a walking disaster. Or rather, she looked as if she'd been through one, which she had. Correction; which she was still going through. This ordeal wasn't over yet, by any means, but there was no excuse for having come apart in front of a total stranger. The front door opened, then closed a moment later. _'Good,'_ she thought. _'He's gone. Tomorrow, I'll call John and...'_ And what? John had said that he had no one else to send. She stood tall and tried to take stock of herself, going through the motions of straightening herself up on the outside in order to get a handle on straightening up her insides, but she found herself wanting in that department. The hollow ache in her chest seemed to show through, no matter what she did to her hair and face. A small sound from downstairs distracted her from her self-examination. She listened for some moments, hearing nothing more, but when she reached for the aspirin in the medicine cabinet, another small noise made her freeze and listen again. Water running in the kitchen. The rattle of a pot. A cabinet door closed. Debra McAlister was instantly incensed. After a day like this, someone was in her kitchen. _Her_ kitchen. She slammed the plastic aspirin bottle on the counter and spun to march out of the bathroom, through the bedroom, and across the hall to the stairs. Cade had most of the ingredients for a stew in the pot and was placing it on a burner when the whipcrack voice from the front room startled the hell out of him, almost making him lose his grip on the pot. He turned to see McAlister angrily march into the kitchen. "What the _hell_ are you still doing in my house!? I thought you'd left!" Cade turned to set the pot down, then faced her. Debra McAlister stood by the kitchen table, hands on hips, an expression of outrage on her face. "I thought you might be hungry," he said. "If not right now, probably later, and I didn't know if you'd do anything about it or not, so I..." "So you took it upon yourself to _ransack_ my kitchen?"

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Cade looked around. Except for the pot, a ladle, and two bowls that he'd set on the countertop, he was unable to detect any signs of ransacking. There was a damp spot and a smudge where the celery had been. He snapped a paper towel off the roll and gave the spot a wipe. "There," he said with a grin. "All better. Have a coffee and let me get a fire going under this..." "_I_ do the cooking in my house, or I damned well _decide_ who's doing the cooking. Who do you think you are, to..." "_Enough_," said Cade. "That's enough. You can shut up, right now." Her incredulous "_What?_" echoed around the kitchen. Cade toed open the sink cabinet and tossed the towel in the trash, then took a deep breath before again turning to face her. "The stuff is in the pot," he said, retrieving his coat from the peg by the back door. "Throw it out or cook it or just sit staring into space all night and let it rot." "_What?_" Cade stopped in front of her, shoving his arms into his coat. "I'll tell you _what_, lady. I don't cook. I know a little about it, yeah, but I hate cooking. I was just trying to be nice to you, trying to help out a little before I leave, you know? Is that concept too much for you? _Nice?_ Or is that a four-letter word to you?" He jammed his hands in his pockets and stood glaring at her for a moment, then leaned close to her and said, "I've had _enough_, McAlister. I know you're going through hell, but you've been nothing but a walking bad attitude from the moment I met you, doing your absolute best to be a pain in the ass. My ass, in particular." Gesturing a thumb at the pot, he said, "So, like I said, cook your own damned dinner. Or not." With that, he straightened, stepped around her, and headed for the front door at a march pace. Three feet from the door, he heard her say, "Wait," but ignored her. "Wait, please," she said. Cade opened the door. "Would you _stop_, dammit? _Please?_" He stood in the door way and asked, "What are you going to do, McAlister, apologize and promise not to be a pain in the ass anymore? Trade your spots for stripes and pretend you aren't really a leopard?" Her hands fluttered as she walked toward him. "I..." She laughed nervously. "Well, uh, yes. Something like that. I guess so, at least around you. I'm sorry, Cade. Don't go." "Uh, huh. Sure you aren't just trying to keep me here because nobody else is available?" "No," she said, then she sighed. "Well, not entirely. I know I've been difficult..." Cade laughed shortly. "Difficult. Yeah. Now you're trying to appeal to my sense of humor, right?" "Would you give me a damned _break_, here, Cade? I'll try to ... I'll try to be better company, okay? I won't snap at you or argue with you." Cade regarded her for a moment, then said, "Bull. You'll be your usual self by tomorrow. Maybe tonight. And I'd be a sucker if I stayed to see it happen." She sighed again and gave him a look of exasperation. "Well, take a _chance_. Please, Cade. Look, I really _am_ sorry and I _do_ need the help and I _will_ try to be nicer around you. That's the best I can do." Cade let the door close with a sigh of his own and said, "Yeah. I know. Okay, so we'll try again. Hi, I'm Ed." He stuck out his hand. Debra McAlister let her breath out and took his hand. "I'm Debra," she said. "Deb. Can you stay for dinner? We seem to be having whatever's in that pot on the stove." "It's a stew."

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She shrugged. "We're having stew, then. Well?" "Yeah. I'd like some of that, I think. Thanks." -------*Chapter Four* It was still early when he left McAlister's house. At the housing complex gate he called a taxi to take him the three miles or so to his own house on Johannesgasse. As he signed out in the visitor's log, Cade caught a window-reflection of the MP gate guard looking at him oddly. Cade didn't turn around as he asked, "Is there something you'd like to know, Sergeant?" The startled guard managed to say, "Uh, no sir. I thought I saw something on your coat, that's all." "What kind of something? No, never mind. You're really wondering why Captain Carson wants to know what time I leave, right?" The guard gathered up the log book and said, "Uhm ... No, sir. That's none of my business." "You're right. Thanks for being so understanding, Sergeant." "Sir? Oh. Yes, sir." When his taxi arrived, Cade glanced back and saw the guard dialing the phone in the guardshack. As his taxi turned left onto Ringstrasse, Cade saw a silver Opel Ascona with green US plates at the far end of the visitor's parking lot begin moving. It, too, turned left onto Ringstrasse, and it was never quite out of sight. Cade had the taxi stop in the middle of a block halfway to his destination and got out. The Opel had been forced to take another street to avoid getting too close and was nowhere in sight as he entered the neighborhood pub on the corner. He waved at the bartender on his way toward the washrooms and followed the hallway to the pub's other entrance on the other side of the block, then walked back around the corner. The Opel was parked among several other cars in a lot across the traffic circle. Cade widened his approach and came up behind the car. After writing down the plate number, he approached the driver's door. The startled driver almost reached for something, then stilled the motion. His companion simply sat looking at Cade. Both wore American clothing from a PX/BX, which, when taken with the US plates, made it fairly apparent that they were with one of the lesser security agencies. Probably MP's. "Hi, guys," said Cade. "Next time, save me cab fare and offer me a ride." Neither man spoke immediately, and the driver tried to appear confused when he said, "I don't know what you're talking about." "Right. Tell you what, then ... You show me some ID, and if I like what I see, I won't report you two guys for loitering together in a public park at night." The driver's look of confusion changed to anger and he reached for the door handle, but the other guy grabbed his arm and said, "No. Stay put. He's made us." The passenger got out and came around the car, reaching for something in his back pocket. Cade waited warily to see what that something might be, but it turned out to be an MP badge and ID card in a black wallet that, after a quick display, was put back in the guy's pocket. "We're with 42nd MP Customs, Mannheim," he said. "I'm Smith and he's Jones, as far as you're concerned." "Well, then, I'll be James Beam or John Walker," said Cade. "But I'll decide that later. Who put you on me and why?" "We can't tell you anything more than that we're authorized to be here, Mr. Cade. You know that. You're in much the same line of work, I hear." "Nope. 42nd is mostly a bunch of drug hounds. I don't chase drugs." The driver, 'Jones', said, "A certain lunchbox contained heroin, Mr. Cade, and people like you don't show up without reason. Someone thinks you're

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worth watching." Cade sighed. "Like I said to Carson, I'm just helping a woman look for a missing daughter. If I find any drug dealers, you're welcome to them. Do you guys know where I live?" Smith said, "Damned right we do." The driver glanced upward and shook his head. "Will you shut up? Yes, Mr. Cade, we know where you live." "Prove it. Tell me." "Eighty-two Johannesgasse." "Close enough," said Cade, opening the back door of the car. "Since you know where it is, let's go." Smith said, "We're supposed to follow you, not haul you around." "You weren't supposed to get caught, either, so it doesn't matter, does it? If you don't want me to mention this to anyone, you won't make me walk." "What the hell..." said Jones, before he got back in the car. "Yeah. Sure. Why the hell not?" When they stopped to let him out in front of his house, Jones rather sardonically asked if Cade planned to go anywhere else during the evening. "Nope," said Cade with a grin, "You guys can catch a nap. Of course, I'd say that anyway, wouldn't I? Maybe somebody better watch the back door, too." That earned him a dirty look from Smith and a disgusted sigh from Jones. Cade heard a familiar noise as he climbed the steps to his apartment, which was actually the top floor of a two-story house. His landlady's cat, Bugglebeast, was already clamoring at the stairwell door to be let out. A woman's voice on the other side of the door said, "Yah, yah, ruhig, Katze." As he approached, the door opened, Bugglebeast scooted out to greet him, and Frau Gestner said, "He ist your katz mehr als meine. Thinks he ist yetz Amerikanische." Her melange of German and English was a deliberate and cultivated habit. She spoke English with a British accent and better than most Americans, but -- as she'd explained it to him once -- she'd learned over the years that it was better to appear to be trying to manage in English than to appear to have mastered it. You got more cooperation that way, and some things could be blamed on miscommunication. In German, Cade responded with a smile, "He only wants to raid my refrigerator and vary his day a bit, right, Bugglebeast? How are you this evening, Mama Gestner?" He reached to ruffle Bugglebeast's chin as she said, "Ganz gut. Franz had to repair some pipes today in Little America. He tells me you may now be involved with a woman from the Embassy." "Franz could be a good spy if he didn't gossip like an old woman, couldn't he?" "I am an old woman and he gossips more than me. So?" "So, I'm only working with her." "He says she is very beautiful and well-placed in the Embassy." "Right again." Frau Gestner gave him a stern look and said, "_Vorsicht_, Herr Cade. Be careful. You are not Papa material. Not yet. _You_, maybe not ever. I know men." Cade laughed and said, "Yah, Mama Gestner. I'll be careful. I promise." She studied him for a moment as if to gauge the truth of his words, shook her head slightly, and said, "Okay, GI. Take your cat and go now. I have work." "C'mon, Bugglebeast," said Cade, heading up the stairs. "'Nacht, Mama Gestner." "'Nacht," she said, closing her door. As soon as he opened the door to his apartment, Bugglebeast zipped past

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his feet and scampered onto the kitchen counter, loudly proclaiming that he was starving. "Yeah, sure you are," said Cade. "Look at you. You're the fattest semi-Siamese hairball in Germany. Gimme a minute." Bugglebeast hopped down and followed Cade into the bedroom, where he watched from the bed as Cade changed into jeans and a t-shirt. "Okay, ready," said Cade, holding his arms out. Bugglebeast jumped into his arms for the ride back to the kitchen. After making the usual production of "searching" for the kitty treats in the fridge and putting a few on the countertop, Cade took a beer to the couch and stretched out with a paperback. When Bugglebeast had made sure that no treats or fragments thereof were left to be discovered, he jumped down and ambled over to the couch, then hopped up and onto Cade's chest, where he stretched out and began to purr while staring fixedly into Cade's face. "It's hard to read with you up there," said Cade. Bugglebeast's ears flicked forward at Cade's words, then he put his chin on his paws and closed his eyes as he always did. Cade adjusted the book and read an hour or so, then got up to take a leak and return Bugglebeast to his downstairs home in completion of their nightly ritual. After putting Bugglebeast into Frau Gestner's kitchen, headlights flashing through the glass around the front door caught Cade's attention. Looking out, he saw a car park across the street in the main lot. A few moments after stopping in a slot, the car's lights were turned off, but more than a full minute passed before the driver's door opened and someone in a long winter coat emerged. The overhead light in the car served only to vaguely silhouette the driver, but something about the scene made him think the driver was a woman. Cade continued watching as the driver got out of the car and retrieved a small bag from the trunk, then headed toward his door. Near the steps, the light from a window revealed that he had a female visitor. He opened the door. "Hi, Linda. Fancy meeting you here." Linda Baines acted as if she'd expected him to be there and said, "Well, that's original. Is Mama Gestner making you sleep by the door, now? Here, I brought you something." "Bringing your own lovely self would have been enough, you know. You turned up something about McAlister's daughter?" "We did. Wait 'till we get upstairs, though. Where's Bugglebeast?" Cade thumbed at the door behind him and said, "He's home, with his mama. Why, do you want him in on this conference?" She shook her head. "No, not really. I'm still in my office clothes and he sheds like a cheap rug." Taking her bag, Cade led the way upstairs. When the door below cracked open, he gave no indication of having heard it, just as he gave no indication of hearing it close. As he opened his door, Linda said softly, "Your landlady peeks." "Her house. She probably likes knowing who's in it." With a _'that seems reasonable'_ expression and a shrug, Linda preceeded him into the apartment and headed for the kitchen. "Got coffee?" she asked. "Not instant, I hope?" "Sure, look in the cabinet over the sink," he said, setting the bag on the dinette table and pulling out two chairs. "Then you can open the bag while I make it, Ed." He nodded as he said, "Okay." In the bag were two manila folders and about a dozen magazines. One folder was marked, "McAlister, Sandra D." and the other was labeled, "Steele, Thomas L.". The magazines were Dutch, dating back six months, and the pictures within them were hard-core porn. All had tabbed pages, so Cade opened one at the first tab. That particular page was a collage of eight pictures, all dedicated to

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the sexual activities of one blonde girl with varying male and female partners. The girl was the spitting image of her mother, Debra McAlister. Cade asked, "What's the age of consent in Amsterdam, Linda?" "If it were just a matter of legal consent, I wouldn't be here," she said. "Sixteen, Ed. She was probably legal there when those pics were taken, but there's a little more to this." He nodded. _Yeah, there always is._ Linda poured two cups and set them on the table, then sat down and sighed as she reached for the latest magazine. She opened it to a marked page and handed it to him. "Compare those pics to these, taken only a few months later." The girl had gone from looking healthy and beautiful to looking as if she'd been used up completely. Scrawny and pale. A large, poorly-concealed bruise marked the left side of her face in an oral-act closeup and her sunken eyes seemed almost lifeless. "I can't believe anyone bought these pictures," said Cade, "Much less published them. What kind of sicko would find her attractive in that condition?" Linda glared at him. "Is _that_ all you're concerned about? What about how she got that way in only a few months?" "Drugs, disease, no appetite, overworked. My first question still stands, because without somebody to buy this crap, there'd be no market for these pics and she might not be in that condition to begin with." Cade dropped the magazines on the table and picked up Sandy's folder. Blah, blah, scrape with authorities over being drunk at fifteen, probation, blah, blah, another scrape, probation again, same reason, blah, blah, and stop at suspicion of prostitution at age sixteen. Busted off-base, but released for lack of evidence or testimony. She seemed to have gone fairly straight for a while, then she'd been held for questioning in a group bust on a US base a hundred miles from home. Delivered to her mother and released again, no explanation given for that action. Sitting back and sipping coffee, Cade asked, "What do you make of all this, Linda?" She made a thoughtful face and said, "Daughter got into bad company. When things got too ripe, Mama tried to sit on daughter. Daughter rebelled." "That doesn't explain why she left the drugs and money behind." "No, it doesn't. Could be she didn't have a choice. Look at page eleven in the folder." Eleven was the last page, an over-long form that was folded twice to fit the folder. It was a Dutch coroner's report of a young woman's massive heroin overdose. Linda said, "She was found behind a dumpster in Amsterdam four days ago. She was murdered, in my opinion. Whether someone dosed her that high or let her do it to herself, she was murdered." With a sigh, Cade tapped the folder and said, "Look at her sheet. She's been heading for some kind of self-destruction since she was fourteen, Linda. It's terrible and tragic and all that, but drug overdoses -- or even murders -- aren't really within our group's jurisdiction." Linda bristled at his words, then settled into a cold demeanor. "Look at the other tabbed pages, Ed." "Why? This one's before and this one's after. I don't really want to see all the stages in between." "She's only one of four girls. The other three are Americans, too. Take a look." "I said no. They'll just be more of the same. What's the word, Linda? Why are we looking at this stuff? We don't chase druggies or porn dealers. We pull people out of Iron Curtain countries. This stuff is for cops, not spooks." After a hard look at him, Linda stood up and went to the coffee pot. She unplugged it and brought it back to the table, refilled their cups, and

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sat down before speaking. "John may not see it that way by tomorrow," she said. "It seems that a lot of this publisher's money goes to support terrorist activities. He's been linked to Carlos and to the Red Brigade. The trail is definite." _Definite. That meant that there was proof, but that the proof would compromise something else that somebody had going and couldn't be given to the cops._ Cade tossed the folder on the table as he spoke. "Terrorists are handled by other departments and agencies, too, most of whom have told us not to get in their way at one time or other. Our group has been the agency's underfunded step-child for almost a decade, Linda. They only call us to yank a defector or his family out of the East or to take stuff in for somebody." Linda rested her elbows on the table and looked at him as she calmly stated, "Maybe not after tomorrow. If John okays it, you may be making a Dragonfly Run to the West. Into Holland. Amsterdam in particular. Won't that be a change of pace?" After a moment, Ed Cade said, "Oh, yeah, at the very least. You're serious?" "Yup. The publisher, the editor, the photographer, and one Thomas Steele, a local boy whose folder is in front of you. All are scheduled for unofficial questioning." "We can get away with that with the Commies, Linda. Even when we've put them back where we got them, they couldn't mention their visit to the West because their pals wouldn't believe they didn't talk to us, but it doesn't work that way on this side of the line. This could wind up on page one." Linda was shaking her head at him as he finished speaking. "Not if it looks as if they were grabbed by terrorists and held for ransom." She looked away and sighed. "There seems to be a lot of that going on lately." "Then you and John have already decided?" "Pretty much. I have, anyway, but we'll look at some things tomorrow. Noon meeting. You're expected, of course. This means we cancel your leave, though, if we decide to take an official role." "Um ... Tomorrow's Thanksgiving Day, Linda. Did you maybe mean Friday?" "No," she said, "Tomorrow. We'll only be in the office half a day." Cade nodded at Sandy's folder. "She's been found, and I don't really want to be around when you tell her mother. You won't be showing her these pictures, I hope? That seems unnecessary." Linda shook her head vigorously and stood up. "_No,_" she said emphatically. "God no. Definitely not. We can't keep her from accidentally discovering them somehow, but we won't be the ones to show her these or even hint that these pictures exist." She started stuffing the magazines and folders back in her bag. Cade said, "Good enough, I guess. That only leaves one question. About tonight, that is. Want to stick around for a while...?" Linda didn't even look up as she said, "Not while you're working for me." "Had to ask," said Cade, blatantly eyeballing her legs. Nodding slightly, she said, "I guess I can always rely on you for a compliment, right?" "Anytime. Rain or shine. Let me know if it ever bothers you, boss lady." "Bothers me? Ed, if you didn't work for me ... Well, you know." "Well, thank you, ma'am. If I thought you were serious, I'd be tempted to quit." "Just tempted? _Only_ tempted?" "Yeah. _Just_ tempted. Maybe if I had another job lined up..." Linda laughed and reached for her coat. Cade helped her into her coat

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and carried her bag to the door, then checked the steps for ice before letting her leave. Only after her car had driven away did he return to his apartment and clear the table before heading to bed. -------*Chapter Five* Around eleven in the morning, Cade tossed two bagfuls of laundry in the trunk of his Ford Taunus so he could wash his clothes at the BX washing machines at Ramstein after the meeting. He was talking to one of the women in the office when Linda called John at eleven-thirty to postpone the meeting. John suggested that Cade stick around until Linda returned. When Linda arrived, she told them that she had gone to Debra McAlister's home, but that the gate guard had said that she'd gone to her office. At the office she'd found that McAlister had signed out for the day only a few minutes before Linda had arrived. The duty clerk had said that McAlister had acted strangely after receiving a large envelope in her office. She'd "gone completely ballistic", he said. A quick check showed that she hadn't been contacted by the coroner's office, and the guard at her housing complex said that she hadn't returned home. "So now Mama's missing, too?" asked John. "Seems so," said Linda. "Jesus. Looks like we may work a full day after all, doesn't it?" Linda glowered. "This isn't funny, John." "It wasn't meant to be. Assume that McAlister's in a rage or a panic. Why? What was in the envelope? Where is she going?" "The envelope was delivered by a German courier," said Linda. "We're checking on who delivered it and who sent it. Figure that it was full of pictures. What else would set her off like that? And why would someone send them?" John said, "She's top dog in a political office. If you win in a place like that, you almost certainly have to cause someone else to lose in the process." John looked at Cade. "Any thoughts on this?" "Nothing you haven't mentioned," said Cade. "But the envelope may not have been from anyone within the office. Did she stop at anyone else's office on the way out?" "No," said Linda. "Straight to her car and gone, according to the clerk." "Then she's probably on her way to see one of the people on your list," said Cade. "Publisher, editor, photographer, or Steele, I'd guess, although I don't know why any of them would be stupid enough to pull something like this. Eliminate the publisher and editor 'cause they'd seem to have too much to lose and they're a couple of hundred miles away across a border. Maybe the photographer, too, if he isn't a local freelance." Linda said, "He isn't local. He works for the publisher." "Then Steele is the best choice at the moment as a potential blackmailer. You said he was local. He might not know yet that the girl is dead. Where is he?" John said, "In a small hotel just outside Ramstein. He's lived there since he got out of the Air Force." Getting to his feet, Cade said, "She'll have to go through Landstuhl to make the best time from her side of K-town. I'll cut through the air base on the emergency strip if they'll let me and maybe get there first or soon after she does. I'll call in when I get there. Better use an official car. John?" John handed Cade the keys to his pool-issue Chevy sedan and Cade left the office in a hurry. Back in the thirties, the Nazis had instituted employment programs much like the ones in the States during and after the depression. They'd involved roads, bridges, and other public works, mostly. Hitler had been very proud of his autobahn, which was like an earlier version of the Interstate highways in

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America. During the war, parts of the autobahn had also served as ready-made airfields for both sides. The air base at Ramstein had been established smack on top of a long, straight stretch of autobahn to be used as an airfield as the Allies occupied ever more of Germany toward the end of WW-II. Runways for cargo planes and jets had been built later and the old chunk of autobahn had been relegated to emergency use. At the Northeast gate of Ramstein Air Force Base, Cade showed his ID and told the guard that he'd be using the old autobahn to cut across the base. The guard called his boss, an AP Lieutenant, for advice. Lt. Hall asked to speak to Cade. "I can't let you do that, sir. That's an emergency strip." "This may _be_ an emergency or a way to prevent one. You know who I work for, Lieutenant Hall. Call my office, but let me go through first. I have to get across the base fast, L.T. Nobody's going to need to land in the next five minutes." After a moment, Hall said, "Okay, Mr. Cade, but know that I _will_ be calling your office. Put the guard on." Done and done. The gate went up and Cade charged through the opening as the guard yelled, "Watch out for ice!" Oh, yeah, there was ice. More importantly, there were patches of no ice that snatched at his tires now and then as if trying to toss him off the road, but at eighty miles per hour, they didn't stick to his tires long enough to succeed. Cade spent the last few minutes of the speed run downshifting and braking extremely carefully, then took the off ramp at the far end that led to the base's West gate. The guard who waved him through stood staring incredulously after him as Cade slicked through the gears and headed toward Ramstein town and the intersection of Landstuhlerstrasse. A German cop was turning onto Ramsteinerstrasse as Cade whipped past, again doing nearly eighty. The cop quickly turned around, hit his siren and lights, and gave chase. Cade noticed him back there, but didn't slow down until he neared the turnoff for Landstuhlerstrasse. The way was clear both directions, so Cade didn't slow down more than he absolutely had to in order to avoid sliding on the curve, then he flew over the railroad tracks just beyond the turnoff, heading toward town and the Kaiserhof Hotel. As Cade pulled into the Kaiserhof's parking lot, he saw McAlister's new blue Volvo sedan parked right in front of the doors. It was at an angle that suggested that she'd skidded to a stop and the driver's door was open. Cade parked behind it, jumped out, and ran for the hotel doors as the German cop entered the parking lot behind him. Inside the hotel, several employees were staring in the direction of the dining room, so Cade headed that direction. Sure enough, Debra McAlister was standing in front of a table at which sat a black man who didn't seem happy. He seemed very unhappy, in fact, and his face matched that of the picture in Thomas Steel's folder. McAlister threw the manila envelope she was holding at the man's face and said something that made the man stand up and grab for her across the table. As she backed out of his reach, he came around the table and grabbed for her again, this time getting a grip on some of her coat. Cade yelled, "Steele!", but Steele only glanced at him before slapping McAlister hard enough to pull her coat out of his grasp as she fell backward. He stepped forward to reach for her again just as Cade launched himself at him. Steele was a big man, but Cade weighed almost two hundred pounds plus momentum. They went down together and Steele's head hit the edge of a table hard, stunning him for a moment. Cade glanced at McAlister. She was trying to get up, so Cade focused on Steele and aimed a punch at his throat. The guy was too big to mess around

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with; a throat punch would keep him busy trying to breathe. Before he could make the punch, a hand fell on his shoulder and he heard the German cop yell, "Halt!" Steele was coming around. He seemed not to notice the cop at all as he grabbed for Cade's coat and tried to pull him down into a punch. Cade managed to be a little to one side of the punch and wound up grappling with Steele, who took the opportunity to roll them over and rise to his knees, straddling Cade as he readied another punch. Cade shoved his fingers at Steele's eyes and brought his knee hard up into Steele's crotch, then kneed him again. Steele squeaked in breathless agony, trying to cover both his eyes and his crotch at the same time for a moment. He then tried again to hit Cade, but Cade again avoided his efforts and this time glancingly connected the edge of his hand with Steele's throat. The German cop had his baton out and ready as he approached. Steele wiped at his eyes again as he choked, then he tried to elbow the cop away when the cop put a hand on his collar. The elbow struck the cop near the groin, and the cop made his decision. He had to use his baton four times on Steele's head before the big man rolled off Cade and lay still, but lay still he did. The cop was shaking a little as he used his radio. Cade got to his feet slowly, so as not to alarm the cop, and walked over to McAlister. She was gently holding the side of her face as if to keep it together. Cade helped her to a chair and went behind the lunch buffet for some ice and a cloth napkin, then took the cold pack to McAlister and placed her hand to hold it against her face. She was in that stage just before shock, trembling violently and making some kind of a small noise that she didn't seem to realize was coming from her until she gingerly applied the cold compress to her face and stared alternately at Cade and Steele. More German cops showed up, as well as four AP's in two cars from the base. Debra McAlister refused an ambulance and Cade called Linda from the hotel's front desk, then Cade was allowed to go outside and properly park his and McAlister's cars. An ambulance took the still-unconscious Steele away with one of the German cops as a guard. When the AP's took Debra McAlister to the base hospital, Linda stayed to deal with the cops and Cade followed the AP's in his own car. Linda met them at the hospital and generally took over there, too, while McAlister was taken to X-ray. A few minutes later, Linda sat down on the bench next to Cade. "I managed to slip a small baggie of powdered sugar into Steele's jacket pocket," she said. "Freddy said he'd look for it at about five, once they've transported Steele to Kaiserslautern, so you have about three hours to look around before the cops descend on the hotel again. You have your camera with you?" "Nope. I left in a hurry, remember?" Linda reached in her purse and handed him a tiny Minolta and two rolls of film. A quick check showed the camera contained an unused roll. "Thought so," said Linda. "Unlike some people, I travel prepared. I brought you a phone bug and a pair of gloves, too. Not a scratch on you, huh?" Cade put the camera and cotton gloves in his pockets and said, "A couple of sore spots. Nothing much. How is Herr Freddy these days?" "Adjusting well, I'd say. Being promoted got his wife off his back for now, anyway. The gate guards said you must have been doing a hundred across the base." "Nope. Only about eighty. There was ice on the road, you know." Linda laughed softly. "McAlister will be ready to go pretty soon. She took a swat in the face. No broken nose. The Germans took Steele for assaulting an officer. They only need McAlister for admin stuff later." "How did she know to go after Steele, Linda?"

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"The dumb bastard called her and told her to expect a package, then told her that if she wanted to discuss anything, she should stop by his room for a private chat tomorrow afternoon." After a pause, Cade asked, "Did you tell her about Sandy?" Linda sighed. "No. I'm going to let the usual channels handle that on Monday." Cade nodded. They sat on the bench in silence for some time before a nurse brought Debra McAlister out and set her on the bench next to Linda. An uncomfortable silence ensued for a few moments before Cade said, "When you're ready to go get your car..." McAlister interrupted him. "Thanks, Ed. You too, Linda. I did something so absolutely, _truly_ stupid today ... I just ... Well, thanks. I'm sorry for what happened." "You weren't seriously hurt," said Cade. "I didn't get hurt. Steele got laid out flat by a police baton and wound up being hauled off to jail. After going to court, he'll probably be thrown out of Germany as an undesirable. Things could have turned out worse, don't you think?" "That would depend on what you call worse, I guess. The cops showed Linda the pictures of my daughter that Steele sent me. Did you see them?" Cade played dumb. "You mean the envelope you threw at Steele? It was on the table before we left. Pictures are what set you off?" Debra nodded. "I was sitting in my office wondering what the hell to do about Thanksgiving Day when he called. When they arrived, they made me sick, first, then I felt as if my whole world had collapsed, and then I just got so angry..." Linda put an arm around her shoulders and another silence ensued. After a while, Debra excused herself and got up to go to the bathroom. Cade and Linda were standing when she returned, and the little group began moving toward the doors. Before Debra got into the car with Linda, she asked, "Were you people following me or something? How did you know I'd be here?" Linda glibly said, "Of course we are. After finding that box, you could be in danger, too. We know people pretty well, Debra, and you seemed kind of ... Well, headstrong." After a moment, Debra shrugged resignedly and nodded, then got in the car. Cade and Linda glanced at each other briefly, then they got in, too. "Wait a minute!" Debra said as they pulled away from the curb. "The pictures. Where are they?" "Sorry," said Linda. "They're evidence. The German cops have them, but I told them who in their offices we were willing to deal with in this matter. They were suitably impressed, and the pictures won't be seen outside a courtroom." "Oh. What if I don't press charges? Can I get them back?" Cade said, "The cop who was there is pressing the charges, Debra. He has to, because he was seen using that billy club on Steele." "Oh. Damn. There's no way to get them out of there?" Linda said, "Not likely. They were the root cause of the incident." When the ladies were preparing to go pick up Debra's car, Cade said he thought they could probably manage without him and that he'd have lunch at the hotel restaurant, then get back to the office. Debra asked, "Will you be dropping by the house later?" Cade shook his head. "Probably not. I've been letting my laundry slide lately. This may be my last clean shirt, I think, and it isn't really clean anymore." McAlister nodded and turned to go. Linda gave him a quick, critical glance as McAlister headed for her car. When Debra was far enough away, Linda asked, "Why is it that you'll rip across the base at warp eight on an icy old road and charge into a guy like Steele, but you can't manage to be available later for a little comfort? She'll need someone near when she finds out that her daughter is in a morgue.

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I thought you two were getting along..?" "Warp?" asked Cade. "Eight?" The phrase was vaguely familiar, but it took him a second to pull up the reference. Some show about a spacegoing Navy or something. Linda grimaced and shook her head. "It's from a rather popular TV show, Ed. Don't you watch TV at all? They travel in space at warp speeds." He thought about that a moment and said, "Okay, I got it. They bend space instead of spending fuel. Makes as much sense as anything else on the tube. No, boss lady. I don't watch much TV. You keep me too busy." "Oh, so it's my fault that you don't watch TV?" "Sure. You're a slavedriver. Look, Linda, I told you I don't want to be around when you tell her about her daughter. Somebody'd just think I was trying to take advantage of her, anyway. Fact is, I can't think of any reason at the moment for ever meeting her again, now that this whole mess is heading in a different direction." Linda's look of incredulousness lasted only until her angry words began. "_You_ look, Ed. You said you'd finally made some headway with her. She's going to need someone to lean on..." "Not a doubt," he interrupted. "And not me. We barely managed some honest civility between us last night. Let her remember me that way, Linda. If you don't order me to stick around, I won't." Debra's Volvo was moving. She backed it out of the slot and turned around to drive it near them, then stopped. "Is there a problem? You two looked as if you were arguing about something. Not me, I hope?" Linda made a wry face and said, "He thinks I deliberately keep him too busy to watch TV." Debra looked from Linda to Cade. "Huh?" Cade said, "She made a reference to a TV show and I didn't know what the hell she was talking about right away. People like her think that sort of thing is weird. Wait 'till she hears my opinion about football." Linda swiveled to face him and said, "Oh, _do_ go right ahead and tell us, Ed." Cade looked at Linda, then at Debra, and asked, "Does this sound like a setup to you, too? Linda here is a Green Bay fan. She goes crazy for a while every time they play and crazier when they lose. Are you a football nut, too, McAlister?" Debra shook her head. "I barely know anything about it." "C'mon, Ed," said Linda, her eyes narrowing. "Let's hear that opinion." Cade met her gaze for a moment, then said, "Okay. Football: Twenty-two guys in colorful, skin-tight knee pants trying to hurt each other over the privelege of putting what appears to be an oversized suppository in their own end zones. The game is one big sado-masochistic innuendo." For a moment, both women were silent and staring, then Debra guffawed with laughter and said, "Innuendo." She laughed again and said, "_Inyourendzone_," and cracked up laughing. Linda was less amused. "Do you also have a cute definition of football _fans_ that you'd like to share with us, Ed?" "Nope. Never gave them much thought unless they were hassling me about not liking the game. Some of 'em get way too religious about it, you know. Oh. Yes. You _would_ know, wouldn't you? I remember the last time Green Bay lost. You..." "You'd be well advised to forget whatever you were about to say, Ed." "I was only going to tell her about the bet you made with..." "Do I have to do something drastic to make you shut up? I can, you know." Debra hadn't stopped laughing. When her foot slipped off the brake, the car's lurch forward startled her, which only added to her laughter. When she was able to speak, she said she was going to leave before another fight

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started at the hotel. "Good," said Linda. "If I have to hurt him, there won't be any witnesses. See you at your house in a few, Debra." Debra McAlister drove off shaking her head and smiling. _'Good,'_ thought Cade. _'It may be the last time she smiles for a while.'_ "You look thoughtful," said Linda. "I was just thinking that it may be quite a while before that woman feels like laughing again, Linda. I'm glad we gave her a good one for the road." Linda gave him an _'oh, I see'_ look and nodded. She looked at him examiningly for a moment more, then also left, shaking her head slightly. -------*Chapter Six* The man at the Kaiserhof's front counter didn't seem too happy to see Cade walk back into the restaurant, but he said nothing as Cade picked a table and scanned a menu. Cade opted for the least complicated steak dinner and thought about how to talk the clerk into allowing him a peek into Steele's hotel room. When he had finished his meal, Cade walked across the lobby to the hotel desk and flashed his ID as he greeted the clerk in German. The clerk was moderately surprised. "You seem to speak German well, sir." "Thanks. Did the police say when they'd be back?" "They gave no indication when or if they would be returning, sir." "Steele is a drug dealer and an American civilian. This is an opportunity to deport him. They'll hold him until they can find cause for a search warrant." The clerk thought about that for a moment. "What if they find no cause?" "Did Steele have a lot of visitors? People who stayed only minutes, sometimes?" The clerk slowly nodded. "Yes, I think so." Cade smiled. "Then I'm sure they will find a cause. Steele was dealing out of his room or his car, and most people get a little careless after a while." The clerk seemed taken aback by this news. Cade couldn't tell if his startlement was genuine or not and didn't particularly care. "About sixty percent of your guests are transient military and dependents from Landstuhl Army Hospital and Ramstein Air Force Base, aren't they? Sooner or later, the police will be back here with a warrant to search Steele's room for drugs. What will happen to this hotel's business if they find any?" The man didn't like what he was hearing. "Are you threatening us, sir?" Cade shook his head. "No. I'm suggesting that we should perhaps take a quick look through Steele's room and get anything that would reflect poorly on your hotel out of it. Want to know why I think this?" The man eyed Cade rather skeptically. "Yes," he said. "I would." "Because," said Cade, "I want to know some things right now. Today. I don't want to have to wait for a warrant and I don't want to have to argue over which agency of which government gets which bits of evidence. Steele sold drugs and porn. I want to find out about them, and in exchange for your help, I'm willing to help you make sure that none of the evidence that _may_ be in his room is found there later." The clerk's eyes narrowed. "This would be very illegal, I think." "So tell them you didn't know any better if they ask. The idea here is to make sure they have no reason to ask. If we find anything, I'll look it over, then we'll put it in his car for them to find. You have no control over

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what he keeps in his car, true?" In a cautious tone, the man said, "I suppose not. You need not try to intimidate me to gain my cooperation in this matter. I would prefer that neither you nor Mr. Steele create problems for my hotel. What you suggest is a way of ensuring that we do not suffer if he should be found guilty of what you say." It was time to let the clerk take the lead. Cade tried to look moderately surprised and said, "We get too used to dealing with timid or difficult people, I guess. Thank you for not being one. My apologies if I leaned a little too hard, but I really want to see that room before the police return." The clerk nodded and reached for the key to room 420 after pressing a button next to his phone. "In the interest of protecting my hotel, Herr Cade, I will take you to the room as soon as my replacement arrives. I will naturally be present as you search." Cade nodded. "Not a problem." Steele's room was like the others of that floor, said the clerk, but Steele had added a few personal touches, like a tiny refrigerator, a phone of his own, and a waterbed. When Cade glanced at him, the clerk added that he only knew these things because he'd helped carry the waterbed up to the room and remove the hotel's bed. As he slipped on his cotton gloves, Cade said, "Look, but don't touch anything." The initial search turned up some porn magazines, some letters -apparently to family and friends in the States -- and a few hundred dollars and marks inside a small notebook. He asked the clerk to get a small screwdriver so they could remove wall covers from switches and plugs. The man seemed less than enthused about the search at that point, but he went for the tool. Cade then began a search of the refrigerator. Opening jars and other containers turned up nothing, but when he moved the bread to see what was behind it, the bread didn't look right. There was a lot of greenish-gray mold at one end, but not nearly as much on the end near the bag's opening. Lifting the bread from the fridge shelf caused it to rattle very slightly and it felt rather heavy. Cade put it back so that he could find it while the clerk was watching. The clerk returned as Cade was checking the ice cream. The carton was still sealed in plastic as it had come from the store, so he put it back as an unlikely hiding place and opened the lower compartment. "If you don't find anything soon..." began the clerk. He didn't finish the sentence, instead letting Cade infer that the search would soon end. Cade shoved jars and containers around as if searching, then pulled the bread out and pretended to discover that it made noise. Taking it to the table by the sink, he opened the wrapper and started to pull the loaf out of it. The loaf separated a little over halfway from the cleaner end. Cade looked down into the interior of the part he held and then tilted it so the clerk could see the plastic bottle inside it. The bottle contained only Quaaludes, but it held what looked to be about a hundred of them. The clerk was properly impressed with their find. Steele had simply become careless. The cotton in the bottle didn't fit tightly enough, so a few of the tablets had moved when the bread moved. Cade photographed the open loaf and its contents, then put the bread back in the fridge without the pills. The clerk had lost his skepticism and complied wholeheartedly when Cade suggested that he begin looking behind all electrical covers in the room while Cade continued his search, checking cabinets, cupboards, and drainpipes. The big Bundespost-issue telephone by the bed was his next stop. He borrowed the screwdriver to open it, found nothing, and palmed the bug Linda had given him into place before closing the case. Unscrewing the speaker caps

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in the handset, he pulled the excess bit of wiring out, looked inside, then put everything back as it had been. The clerk struck gold of a sort when he became frustrated in his efforts to remove the phone-line cover behind the bed. It was a difficult position and reaching the screws was more than difficult, but the job was suddenly made much easier when downward pressure on the line caused the whole box to shift slightly. "The connection box is not anchored into the wall," he told Cade. "It may only be loose, but let me have a look." As Cade eased the box out of the wall, it suddenly came completely free. The box had been cut all the way around about an inch behind the cover plate. Inside the box was an Egyptian cigarette package that seemed unusually heavy when Cade removed it from the box. Flicking open his belt knife, he slid the blade between the outer cellophane and the paper of the pack and lifted it out of the narrow space. Using his knife and an inkpen, Cade slit the transparent tape holding the package shut and carefully worked the contents out of the package and onto the table. The clerk actually backed up a pace as he muttered, "Meine Gott..." It was a solid block of heroin in a ziplock baggie that had been additionally sealed with another strip of transparent tape. "Meine Gott!" the clerk again muttered. "What is it?" "Looks like heroin." The clerk backed up to lean against the sink, staring at the package on the table. Cade rose, took pictures of their find, and then went to the night table for Steele's car keys. He noted their exact position before picking them up. "We'll search a bit more," he said, "Then we'll put the magazines and drugs in the trunk of his car. Leave the money and whatever else here for the cops to find." Shaking a few Quaaludes out of the bottle, Cade let two of them fall between the waterbed mattress and the supporting boards, then he put two more in his pocket. "Why are you keeping those?" asked the clerk. "I'm going to break them on the floor of the car as a hint," said Cade. "The cops know them when they see them." The clerk gave an understanding nod, still in awe of the whole affair. Further searching turned up nothing. Cade spread the notebook using tableknives to hold the pages open and took pictures of every page, then put the notebook back where he'd found it. He wrapped the drugs loosely in a concealing towel and then he and the clerk left Steele's room. Steele's black and gold BMW was parked behind the hotel in the awning-covered area near the back entrance. Looking up, Cade was unable to see any of the hotel room windows. That meant that anyone looking down would be just as unable to see them. "Don't touch the car," said Cade. "Not at all. Fingerprints." The clerk obligingly stepped back a few feet. Opening the BMW's passenger's door, Cade conducted a quick search of the glove box, under the dash, the ashtray, the seat pockets, and beneath the seats and floor mats. Finding nothing incriminating, he then took the two pills from his pocket, dropped them on the carpeted floor, and crushed them slightly with his shoe. He also found nothing unusual on the driver's side of the car, so he knuckled the button that opened the trunk, locked all the doors, and moved the search to the rear of the car. Other than a few more skin magazines, there was nothing to be seen in the trunk, either. Cade set the towel containing the drugs to one side and opened the spare tire compartment. Wedged next to the tire was a pistol in a fabric holster. Cade pretended not to have seen it and reached for the towel while checking to make sure that the clerk wasn't in a position to see the spare tire area at all.

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"Now to put the drugs where they'll be noticeable," said Cade. He put the towel over his hand to lift the tire, then used his inkpen to worry the bottle and the package into the area just beside the tire and let the towel fall over the gun. As he brought the towel and gun out, he let his gloved hand and the bundle rub against the greasy interior of the tire's rim. "Damn," he said, looking at the grease on his hand. "Stuff like that goes right through these gloves." He used his elbow to shove the trunk lid down. "We're finished, I think. Show me to a washroom?" "Yes, of course," said the clerk, turning to lead the way to the hotel's back doors. Cade quickly stuffed the gun under his coat as he followed. At the washroom door, he said, "Back in a minute. You'll be at the desk?" "No," said the clerk. "I'm going to have a drink to settle my nerves. Would you like something from the bar?" Cade shrugged. "Yeah. A beer would be good. Thanks. You have Hofbrau?" The clerk nodded and turned to leave. Cade entered the washroom, checked to see that he was alone, then went into a stall and pulled the gun out for a look. It was a Colt .45 auto that might once have been military issue, encased in a concealed-carry style belt holster. When he slipped the magazine out, it felt full. The top round was a jacketed hollowpoint, something he hadn't seen often in that caliber. Most people used the issue-style ammo that was more commonly available. He pulled the slide back slightly, saw the gleam of brass, and let it snap shut, then replaced the clip, set the safety on, and put the gun back in the holster and under his coat. Cade flushed to make things sound right, then removed his gloves, rolling the dirty one inside the other one and pocketing both. He washed his hands, then went out to have his beer and see how the clerk was taking things. The clerk was sitting at a table near the bar, apparently lost in thought. Cade dropped the towel on the table and sat down to pour his beer into a glass. "Thanks," he said. "Do you have any regrets about what we did?" The clerk gave him a mildly startled glance and said, "Of course, but I'd have more difficulty with not having done it. Herr Steele will be leaving us the moment he returns from his encounter with the police." "He may not be staying long if they let him out at all after a search. I doubt it very much, in fact. You may have to make other arrangements for his things." "The police will know what to do. My manager will handle whatever may be necessary. May I ask a question?" Cade nodded and smiled. "Sure. I can't guarantee an answer, but you can ask." "You aren't really with the police, are you?" "Not the badge-carrying, uniform-wearing kind, no." "What other kinds of police are there?" Cade smiled and said, "My kind. I'm going to make a phone call, then I want to return Steele's car keys to his room. Thanks again for the beer." At the phone in the lobby, Cade called John at his office. "I put the bug inside the phone housing. How's it working?" "Loud and clear," said John. "Any problems?" "None," said Cade. "The desk clerk and I had a look in Steele's room. Found some heroin and 'ludes and moved them to the trunk of his car. I need you to run a number for me. There was a .45 wedged in next to the spare tire. If he owns it clean and has a permit, I'll put it back, but I'll yank the firing pin first." John took the model info and serial number and said he'd call back shortly. Cade waited by the phone, sipping his beer and scanning tourist brochures until the phone rang. When he answered it, John said, "It isn't listed as stolen, as far as

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we can tell, but Steele isn't likely to report it missing, no matter how he came to have it. He didn't have a permit for it, and an unlicensed gun is a bad, bad thing here in Germany. Jail time and then deportation, just like any other undesirable alien." "Good 'nuff," said Cade. "I'll hold onto it for a while, then. Call Freddy and tell him he can find that sugar pack now, if he wants to save some time. Do you need me at the office?" "Nope. We seem to be getting by just fine without you, somehow. Where will you be?" "Home, after a trip to the commissary and the BX." "Okay. Later, Ed." "Later, John." Cade hung up the phone, finished his beer, and took the bottle back to the clerk's table. When he jangled Steele's car keys, the clerk nodded and stood up, set the bottle on the bar, and led the way to the elevator. "Nobody should come into Steele's room before the cops have been here," said Cade, looking at the unmade bed and the nearly-full ashtray by the phone. "Tell him the cops wouldn't allow it." The clerk nodded as Cade put the keys back on the night table. After a quick look around the room to make sure their search hadn't been too obvious, they left the room and went back downstairs. Cade thanked the clerk again before heading for his car. He stashed the gun in the trunk of his car when he took his laundry out. While his laundry was in the BX washing machines, Cade visited the commissary for a few essentials and ran into a brunette woman he'd met a few times at the Rod & Gun club. She was a tall, attractive, mid-twenties Wyoming native named Bonnie Wier who had always seemed able to hit anything she could see while holding a 12-gauge Remington shotgun. He'd asked her why she didn't use the smaller-bore 20-gauge that most other women used. She'd looked him over, realized that he hadn't been teasing her as the only woman on the firing line, and told him that she'd grown up using a twelve-gauge on her father's ranch and that the twenty had just never felt quite right to her. They'd paired up to pull for each other and had gone through a box of shells each on the skeet range. When Cade had popped both targets from station one without raising his gun to his shoulder, Bonnie had snickered as she handed him the launcher, then proceeded to also shoot from the hip. At the end of the match, they each had scored twenty-three out of twenty-five birds. Her boyfriend, watching from the clubhouse, had seemed a bit tense about their camaraderie as they turned in the shotguns and toasted each other with beers. They decided to share one of the commissary's shopping carts and set off down the aisles together. "This is the first time I've seen you anywhere but the skeet range, Ed," she said. "How come I never see you anywhere else around the base?" Cade grinned and answered, "Well, I'm here at the commissary, aren't I, and my laundry is at the washateria as we speak. Maybe we just weren't destined to meet unarmed before now. Maybe the fates were being cautious about tossing us together." She gave him a wry grin and said, "Yeah, right. The fates? You aren't a religious nut, are you? My last boyfriend got a bad case of religion and I had to dump him. I got tired of being called a sinner by a hypocrite." Cade chuckled. "That's bad, all right. I take it he only called you a sinner when he felt bad for having sinned with you?" She laughed. "You got it. He seemed to think it was all my fault." Stepping back to give her an appraising gaze from toes to hairline, Cade said, "Maybe it was, sort of. You look pretty damned good to me, Bonnie. Maybe he was just too weak-willed to resist his urges and your legs. That would probably be the simplest explanation, anyway."

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Bonnie shook her head and laughed again. "He never even tried. He just wanted it to be someone else's fault later. I got tired of the recrimination and religious rhetoric and one night I turned him down and tossed him out." "Good move, ma'am. That sort of thing only gets worse with time." "Don't I know it? After I dumped him, he kept calling me at the office and the BAQ and sending me religious tracts every day for a while. They'd appear on my desk or mailbox or in a stack of incoming forms. I work in Personnel, by the way. After a couple of weeks, I took a few to the XO and told him the situation. End of problem. They shipped him somewhere else, hopefully a place without women." "You're in Personnel, but you don't know where they sent him?" "I don't even want to know unless he starts sending me stuff again." Cade nodded. "Good for you. Have you replaced him yet?" She shook her head. "No. I'm enjoying my freedom. I didn't realize how stifling he was until he was gone." "Well, what if I told you that my work takes me out of town a lot and that I wouldn't let you move in with me just because you're beautiful? I guess you could use my cat during visits, though, if that didn't seem too stifling." "You have a cat? Where the hell did you get a cat here in Germany?" "The landlady. She inherited Bugglebeast from a Captain's family that used to rent the upstairs of her house. He's about half Siamese and he seems to think that he's the only reason I live there." Bonnie's eyes widened a bit and she giggled. "His name is _'Bugglebeast'?_ The poor kitty. You rent the whole upstairs? How big is the house?" "Well, two stories, obviously, but you probably mean _'how many rooms'_, right?" She gave him a sharp glance. "Careful, there." Cade grinned and said, "Yes'm. The upstairs has two bedrooms, a common area, a bathroom, and a kitchen. They added the second floor before the war, but their son never came home to use it. He was supposed to get married and start another generation of the family there." "Oh, that's sad," she said. "Really, that's sad. That poor woman. Is her husband still alive?" "No. He died about ten years ago, I think, but his brother and a few other relatives stop by now and then when they're in the area. Everybody calls her Mama Gestner. After a month or so, she told me to call her that, too." "How long have you lived there?" "A little over a year." "Well, if she lets her cat visit you, she must like you." "Guess so. The cat does, anyway, and he's good company." Bonnie chose some canned veggies as she said, "That's interesting. Most men seem to like dogs. I've never met many men who liked cats much. Why do you?" "It's a long story. Want to hear it over drinks some time?" She looked at him for a moment, then decided. "Sure. When?" Cade shrugged. "I'm on leave for another few days, if I want, and tomorrow's Friday. Want to act like tourists and have dinner on a castle wall tonight?" Bonnie grinned. "Which castle?" "Pick one. Near or far. Well, within a day's drive or so, anyway." "Schloss Landstuhl," she said. "Tonight. That way I can get a ride back with a friend if you turn out to be a frog instead of a prince." Cade put a hand to his chest and gave her a stricken look. "I'm hurt that you don't have more faith," he said. "Crushed, really. But Landstuhl's got a good restaurant, so I guess I'll survive." Bonnie tossed a can of peaches in the cart and dryly said, "Oh, goody. I hate it when my dates die before dinner. That can only happen a few times before a girl gets a reputation, y'know." They agreed on six as a time to meet at the BAQ. Bonnie put her

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groceries in her old Volkswagen and drove away as Cade walked back to the laundromat. When his laundry was done, Cade took it home and put it away under Bugglebeast's supervision before calling the office to check in. "How goes the war?" asked Cade. "Freddy led a search team," said John. "Steele is well and truly busted now. Somebody at the morgue sent a routine report to the MP's yesterday. The guy we talked to didn't know about it, of course. The MP's left McAlister a few minutes ago and she called me begging for bloody justice. Linda went over there. Beyond that, there's nothing to report at the moment." "Well, I guess that was enough. I just called to let you know that I may not be home tonight and see if you wanted me to check in with you over the weekend." "At present there's no reason to hear from you until Monday, Ed. We can pick things up then and take them from there." "Okay, then. See you Monday." He hung up and spent some time on the sofa with Bugglebeast, then took a shower and got ready for his date with Bonnie. -------*Chapter Seven* Cade checked the entrance of the BAQ on the way to the parking area, but Bonnie wasn't in sight. He put his car in a slot and walked to the entrance with an eye to the weather. AFRTS radio had said the evening would be clear and cold within the averages for November, but the thick clouds overhead didn't seem to lend much credence to the report. At the front desk, he told the clerk who he'd come to see and she rang Bonnie's room. After what seemed quite a few rings, Bonnie answered and said that she'd be downstairs in a few minutes. Cade thanked the clerk and took a seat in the waiting area. The TV in the corner of the room was tuned, of course, to AFRTS, and the three other men in the waiting area seemed to be tuned to a show in which a good-looking blonde was apologizing to her husband for having magically created dinner. _'Be damned if I'd apologize,'_ thought Cade. _'She probably hates cooking as much as I do. Screw Durwood or whothehellever he is.'_ The heavily-contrived show couldn't hold his attention. Cade looked for a magazine, but had to settle for a day-old _'Stars & Stripes'_ newspaper. He was reading an article about anti-war demonstrations when he felt someone approaching behind him. He said, "Hi, Bonnie," and folded the newspaper, leaving it on the seat as he stood and turned to face her. She was about six feet away and looked rather surprised. She looked pretty good, too, in a jacket-and-skirt outfit that fit her well. He stepped forward to help her into her coat. "How did you know it was me?" she asked. "For that matter, how did you know I was here? I didn't make any noise." "Magic," he said. "I knew someone was coming and figured it was you. By the way, you look really nice in that outfit." "Uh, yeah. Thanks. It could have been someone else, Ed. These other guys aren't sitting here for the free TV." Cade shrugged. "None of them got up, so I took a chance. You ready to go?" She nodded and slung her purse on a shoulder. "Ready." Bonnie seemed surprised to see his car. As he opened the door for her, she glanced around the interior before getting in. "I thought you'd have an American car," she said. "You mean like your Volkswagen? At least this is a Ford." "It isn't like any Ford I've ever seen." He opened the glove box and handed her the car's manual, upon which was the Ford logo and _'Taunus L.E.'_, the car's model name.

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With a grin, he said, "I'll get in while you study that. It's cold out here." Once he was behind the wheel, she said, "This is all in German. What does Taunus mean in English?" "They probably named it after the Taunus mountains here in Germany." She nodded. "And the L.E.? What's that?" He started the car and moved them out of the parking space. "Same as back in the States. Luxury Edition. I got the car when Deutschmarks were still four for a buck. Being a few years old hasn't made it less luxurious." Bonnie had been examining the interior of the car and matching things to their names in the manual. "No, I guess not. What's a Blaupunkt? Oh. A radio. Okay. How come we don't see these cars in the States?" Cade shook his head. "No idea, really. I think they'd sell pretty well." She looked up from the manual in mild surprise as they approached the base's west gate and asked, "You're going through town? Why not take the fast route?" "I want to stop at the bank." "The bank's by the BX and it's closed on holidays, Ed." "My bank isn't closed. Well, actually it is, but the outside teller machine isn't." "The _what_ machine?" "Outside teller. I put my debit card in and tell it how much I want. It can give me up to three hundred marks a day." Bonnie grinned. "This I gotta see. Yeah, let's stop at the bank." Cade noticed motion in his rearview mirror and watched a dark blue Opel Ascona pull out of the parking lot of the Zurich Versicherung offices just outside the gate. It remained well behind them all the way to the Landstuhlerstrasse turnoff, where they turned left to head for Landstuhl. When the Opel reached the intersection, it turned right, crossed the railroad tracks, and then pulled in at the BP station a quarter of a mile further toward town. "Hey," said Bonnie. "What's up? You've spent more time looking in that mirror than you have looking where we're going." Cade grinned and shook his head. "Thought that Opel behind us might be someone from an outfit in Mannheim." In downtown Landstuhl Cade parked next to the bank offices and they walked up to the machine in the booth by the bank doors. He showed her his Deutschbank debit card before pushing it into the slot above what looked like a TV screen and pressed the _'transaction'_ button. When the screen asked for an amount, he tapped out '100' on the keypad, then they waited a few seconds until the machine spat five twenty-mark bills into the tray below the screen. Cade took the bills from the slot and put them in his pocket, then pressed the _'no'_ button when the screen asked if he wanted to make another transaction. As he pulled his card out of the machine, Bonnie said, "That is just _so_ cool! How did you get one of those cards?" "I have a checking account here." "In a German bank? How?" "Banks will hold almost anybody's money, Bonnie." "Do they charge extra for those cards?" "Nope. They figure that the clerks will get more work of some other kind done when someone uses their card instead of coming into the bank." "That is _so_ cool..." Bonnie said again, staring at the machine for another moment before asking, "Why do you have a German bank account, Ed? You can get anything you need on base, can't you?" "Let's get back inside the car and out of this breeze. Sure, I can buy at the BX. But I write my rent checks in marks. I shop off-base, too, and I

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have a few favorite restaurants that don't mind taking my checks." Bonnie seemed to be having some difficulty with his reasoning. After they were back in the car, she said, "I know other people who live off-base. They just pay cash for stuff." Cade nodded. "Yup. And no matter how long they stay over here, they'll be treated as GI's and tourists. It's a small thing to make use of local services like banking, but it pays off when you stop being a visiting stranger to everybody and become a visiting friend. They tell you where to find things like this car. I bought it from a local doctor, Bonnie. I never would have met the guy if I hadn't gained the notoriety of being an untypical American who wrote Deutschbank checks in restaurants." At the Schloss Landstuhl restaurant, he asked her what she wanted from the menu, then ordered for both of them and held a brief conversation with the owner's wife, who was in some way related by marriage to his landlady. Bonnie listened with surprise as they chatted in German for a few moments about Frau Gestner and Bugglebeast. When the woman had gone, Bonnie sipped her wine thoughtfully before saying, "You didn't tell me you could speak German." "You never asked. How's your wine?" "Good. Great, really. What is it?" "I don't know. I drink beer, mostly. I let the owner's wife pick the wine. It's probably some of the better stuff, part of a plan to make you say nice things about the restaurant and bring in more customers." She examined the red liquid in her glass for a moment and said, "Good stuff. Should work. What do you do over here, Ed? Do you work for the military?" He shook his head. "Nope. I work for civilians. I'm an administrative investigator." She set her glass down and stared at him. "You're a _cop?_ What do you investigate?" "No, I'm not a cop. Not in the sense that you think of cops, anyway. I don't arrest people; I just look into things and pass the info to other people." "Give me an example." He thought a moment. "Okay. Were you over here when the bomb went off in the disco in Frankfurt last year?" "Yeah. Just barely. I'd only been here about a week at the time." "Well, it wasn't a terrorist bombing, but the owner had tried to make it look like one. He set it off after the place closed. He hadn't wanted to hurt anyone, and that's one of the reasons they thought it might not have been a terrorist bomb in the first place. Turns out he owed a lot of money and wanted the insurance payoff." Bonnie nodded, apparently happy with his explanation of the bombing. Cade hadn't really been part of that investigation, but he hadn't told Bonnie that he had been. He'd only told her what had happened and why, facts which were public knowledge. As Bonnie carefully cut her meat, she asked, "Have you ever been married, Ed?" "Once. It didn't work." "What happened?" she looked up and added, "If you don't mind me asking?" Cade shook his head. "No problem. She drank too much. Her sister tried to warn me for months, but I couldn't seem to hear what she was saying." "Maybe she didn't make it clear enough?" Grinning around a mouthful of steak, Cade said, "Uhm, no. She was clear enough. I just didn't listen. You know how blind men can be about women." Bonnie laughed and almost choked. She sipped her wine to wash things down and said, "Yeah. They can be as blind as women can be about men. I know what you mean. Back in the States, I was married to a guy who couldn't seem to avoid betting on things. Someone

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kneecapped him after a basketball game when he couldn't cover his bets. That was it for me. After the divorce, I joined the Air Force for a job and college money." "How's that decision working out for you?" Bonnie shrugged. "Fine, I guess. I'm an E-5 and I'll have a GI bill when I get out." "Not staying in?" She shook her head. "I don't think so. The Air Force is okay for now, but it's ... Well, I don't know what it is, exactly, but I don't think it'll be my career. Got any kids?" "Nope. You?" "No, thank God. He wanted them, but I didn't think the time was right. Fact is, I'm not sure I want to tie myself up that way at all. My parents aren't happy about my attitude, of course. They think it's some kind of duty or something." She eyed him for a moment and then asked, "Are you sure you don't have any kids? I mean ... Well, a woman _knows_ when she's had kids, you know. Men don't always, especially men who are three thousand miles from home. How can you be so sure?" "I'd rather not say, Bonnie. You may think it's a line. You may not approve, either." "Try me, Ed." Cade sipped his beer and studied her for a moment, then said, "I had a vasectomy in April of last year. Snip, snip. No kids, ever." She'd been about to sip her wine, but she froze and stared at him. "Are you _serious?_" He nodded. "You're in Personnel. Look me up in hospital records at Landstuhl, if you want. Or ask the nosy religious twit who works in ward 5A. She made it her business to register her disapproval with me." "She ... Oh. So you've been through that crap, too?" "Sure 'nuff, but only briefly. It didn't take her long to see me as an unrepentant sinner. She gave up trying to save me, but not letting her pals know what I'd done. I started getting mail from her on-base church group. That stopped after I went to see their honcho and told him that he'd find someone else to pester or be removed." "You could do that? Have someone shipped out?" "Not me. My bosses. They don't like having their people pointed out or talked about. That sort of thing can make it hard to do the job." They chatted their way through the rest of the meal and adjourned to wander around the castle ruins for a while before heading back inside, out of the cold. Sometime around eight, they noticed the owner and his wife putting chairs on tables in the other room and realized that the restaurant was soon to close for the evening. "Where to next?" asked Cade. "There isn't much open around here at this hour, unless you like bar hopping or discos. A place called _'The Treffpunkt'_ is open until two. It's a disco up near Kaiserslautern that most Americans haven't found yet. They don't encourage the usual GI trade." Bonnie eyed him and asked, "The _'usual GI trade',_ Ed? And that means..?" "It means groups of guys getting drunk and difficult, mostly, _Sergeant_ Wier. It also means unescorted women, sometimes. The Treffpunkt prefers couples as customers, even though its name means _'meeting point'_." "Do you like the place?" "Non-stop music, good drinks, and no fights. Yeah, I like the place." She held up her coat and said, "Let's go, then." Ed put some money on the table, and after a few complimentary words to the owner and his wife, they left. A few miles from the castle, Cade pulled into an Esso station and put a five-mark coin in the automated gas pump as he watched the road. The Taunus was only down a quarter of a tank. Cade had stopped to get a better look at the Opel that was a mile or so behind them.

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As the dark blue Opel Ascona passed the Esso station, it decelerated very briefly, then continued on. One occupant, the driver. It didn't have green US plates, as he'd expected, but that didn't mean that it wasn't being driven by one of the MP's who'd followed him from McAlister's house. They had a veritable motor pool of confiscated cars to choose from. Cade went to the pay phone by the station's front doors to call John and tell him about the Opel. John said he hadn't heard anything about Cade being tailed. "Are you sure he's following you, Ed? No chance of coincidence?" "There's always a chance, John. Sightings in two towns over three hours, and I have someone with me. I need to know if he's one of ours." "Stand by one. Give me your number there and tell me if she's cute." "She's not only cute, she's good company." Ed gave him the number and hung up. Less than five minutes later John called back and said that if the Opel was a tail, it didn't belong to anyone they worked with. "Assume you're right, Ed, but don't assume you're infallible," said John. "He could be a barhopper heading to K-town, just like you." "Yeah, I hear ya. Okay, John. Thanks." When he got back in the car, Bonnie asked, "Who did you have to call at this hour? You weren't checking in with a wife or a girlfriend, were you?" Cade laughed and said, "No, not with a wife or a girlfriend. That was my boss. I had to tell him something before it got too late." Bonnie very deliberately looked at her watch, but said nothing. He pulled out of the gas station and continued toward Kaiserslautern. Bonnie had retreated slightly. She sat a bit farther away on the car seat and silently fiddled with the radio. "Bonnie," he said, "I swear that wasn't a call to a woman. In my line of work, we keep in touch a bit more. That's all it was." She nodded to show she'd heard him, but didn't look up from the dashboard as she quietly said, "That better be the truth." When she looked up to see how he was taking her remark, he said, "It's the truth." Nodding again, she turned the radio off and sat back. "I've had one too many jerks in my life, Ed. Please don't turn out to be another one." He glanced at her and said, "And don't you turn out to be a frog-kissing Cinderella. Want to go back to the BAQ? The Einsiedlerhof road is about five miles ahead. Let me know before then." Bonnie gazed at him for a few moments, then shook her head. "No. I guess not. Cinderella wasn't the one who kissed a frog, you know." "Only because she was out cold. No, wait a minute. That was Snow White, I think. Doesn't matter. If she hadn't been zapped by the apple, she'd have been out thrashing around in mill ponds like the other princesses, scaring the frogs out of their little wits." Bonnie giggled as she envisioned a horde of wet, muddy princesses chasing panic-stricken frogs through knee-deep water. Some of the princesses happened to look a lot like some of her friends. The giggle became a brief laugh. "Liked that, did you?" asked Cade. With an uncontrollable grin, Bonnie said, "Yeah. I did. I know some women like that, too." "You're lucky you never dated any of them." -------*Chapter Eight* Something about the road ahead disturbed him, and Cade realized what it was. If you've ever had to set up an ambush, you tend to notice good places for such things. The intersection of the road to Einsiedlerhof was just such a place. There was nowhere to turn off before the intersection, so he slowed

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down to time his arrival for a green light. Bonnie noticed that he was slowing down nearly half a mile from the intersection and gave him a questioning look. He gave her a nod and a smile in return and returned his attention to the road ahead. Yes, the light was bright green when they arrived. No, he didn't go through. Cade saw a motion just up the hill to the left and stood on the brakes in time to stop the car as if the light was red. One of the trailers in a sales lot separated itself from the others and headed downhill toward them. Bonnie braced herself on the dashboard and yelled, "_What the hell..?_" as the small camper trailer rolled across the intersection where the Taunus would have been and then toppled into a drainage ditch. Cade took a quick look around, saw no one and no Opel Asconas on the hill, and gunned the Ford through the intersection and up the hill toward Einsiedlerhof. As he shifted to fourth, Bonnie asked, "How did you know? Did you see something?" "Yeah," said Cade. "Sort of. Something didn't look right." "Well, aren't we going to go back? We can't just leave that trailer in the road. Somebody might hit it." "It's in the ditch, not the road. No problem." She looked back the way they'd come and spotted the trailer, then looked out the front window. Now thoroughly baffled, she turned back to face Cade. "You said the disco was in Kaiserslautern. This is the road to Einsiedlerhof." "That it is. I'm taking you back to Ramstein." "Why?" her tone was sharp. "I didn't tell you to take me home, did I?" "No, ma'am, you didn't, but I'm doing it anyway. I think someone's been following us and I don't think the trailer was an accident." Bonnie's expression turned sullen briefly, then became one of astonishment as she came to believe that she had figured something out. "_Ohmygod!_" she said softly. "The German bank account. This car. You speak German. You're some kind of a _spy_, aren't you? Like that James Bond guy?" Cade laughed. "No, I'm not a spy like that James Bond guy. I hate wearing a tux and this is just a Ford, not a whateverthehell he drives." "He's got an Aston-Martin. But you _are_, aren't you?! Some kind of a spy?" "If I were, I couldn't tell _you_, could I? I think whoever shoved that trailer at us is probably a friend of a druggie named Steele. He was busted in Ramstein today." "You said you weren't that kind of cop, Ed." "I'm not, but I was one of the reasons he got busted." Cade went on to tell her some of what had happened in the hotel restaurant. "...And then the cops took him away. Maybe Steele called somebody or one of his pals was watching when he was hauled away. Doesn't matter, Bonnie. I'll phone in again from the gate guard's shack and then take you home." Bonnie sat straight and looked out the front window as she asked, "Well, what if I don't want to go home yet? What if I'd rather go to a disco with you?" Cade checked his rearview, then gazed out into the inky blackness ahead for a moment before speaking. All he could see was the double yellow line in the glow of the headlights. It was as if they were tunneling through solid dark. Without taking his eyes off the road, he said, "You know, Bonnie, I'm almost sure that I just mentioned that I didn't think the trailer was an accident." She faced him with a grin. "Yeah. I heard you." He shook his head. "Sorry. This isn't a movie." Bonnie pulled her legs onto the seat and faced him, saying, "He tried

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and missed. Do you really think he'll try something else tonight?" "Do you really want to find out whether he'll try again? That camper wasn't big enough to do much more than mess up my car and stop us, but then what, Bonnie? What do you think he'd have done next if we'd stopped?" Bonnie glared at him for a moment, then turned to face front and crossed her arms as she glared out the front window. "Probably nothing, since he was being sneaky. What do you think he'd have done, Ed? Maybe he just wanted to get even a little." Cade sighed. "I don't consider sending a trailer at someone to be a _'little'_ thing, Bonnie. He didn't mind that I had company, did he? Two for the price of one, hey? If nothing else, we could have been stranded there with a dead car." "Well, I didn't see anybody in the trailer place when we went past it. Nobody and no car. That trailer could have been an accident, right?" "Sorry, ma'am. I can't afford to think that way." After simmering for a few moments, Bonnie said, "So you're just going to dump me at the BAQ. Big thrill. Wait a minute! Do you think he's following us now?" "Not unless he plans to do something else before we get to the base. There's nowhere to get off this road. You either go to the base or turn around and go back to the cutoff." Cade checked his left mirror as he spoke. There was a glint of red light a short distance behind them. "Well, then..." Bonnie didn't get a chance to finish her thought as Cade quickly slipped the Ford across the yellow lines and downshifted to third. The engine roared as the Ford rapidly decelerated, pitching Bonnie forward. "_What..?!_" began Bonnie, again using the dashboard to keep herself in her seat, but the sudden, looming presence of another car and a man's face glancing through her window at them changed her question to an extended scream. The Opel had come up behind them quickly with its lights off. It had intended to ram them, but the Opel's chrome bumper had flashingly reflected Cade's taillights. Now it was braking to try to match their speed. Cade saw a lateral chrome strip descending next to the man's face and realized that he was rolling his window down, then he saw the big revolver in the man's hand. "He's got a gun!" shouted Cade. "Get down, Bonnie!" She didn't, of course. She sat stiffly, staring out her window at the dark blob of the Opel and making a high-pitched noise as she gripped the dash and door. Cade stood on the brakes for a moment to pitch her forward again and crossed lanes to get behind the Opel before pulling her roughly down on the seat. The Opel driver didn't like having his target behind him. He seemed indecisive about what to do. First he hit his brakes, then he decided that stopping might not be the best idea. He gunned the Opel and pulled ahead of them into the darkness. Cade stopped the Ford, turned off the engine and lights, and pulled the handle of the trunk opener. He then popped the cover off the car's dome light, letting it fall on the back seat, and pried the bulb out with a key. "What the hell are you doing?" screeched Bonnie. Putting a hand on her shoulder, he said, "I don't want the light to come on when I open the door. Stay put. I'll be right back." Cade got out and went to the back of the car, shoved the trunk lid up while swearing at the little light that came on, and retrieved the .45. He then closed the trunk and pulled the .45 out of its holster as he walked back to the driver's door. He got back in the car, tossed the holster to Bonnie, stuck the .45 under his right thigh, and started the car. Bonnie stared big-eyed at first the holster, then the gun as he turned them around and headed them back the way they'd come.

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She looked wildly around and asked, "Wh ... Where are we going?" "He's ahead of us, waiting for us. He has a gun. We're going back around the curve we took to get here. We'll wait for him by the maintenance gate." Bonnie tried to sit up and peek over the dash. "But..." He spotted the base's maintenance gate and turned onto the drive leading up to it. In the dim residual light of the blue runway lamps, he could see that the service road entrances had been blocked with drums of sand. There was no way to park the Ford out of sight behind the trees. "Damn," said Cade. "Change of plans. I'll bump the gate enough for you to get through, then you get down in the ditch over there." Bonnie peered into the darkness and said, "_What_ ditch? I don't see any ditch!" "You'll find it, so walk, don't run." He pointed in the direction of the drainage trench on the other side of the fence. Angling the car against the bottom of the left side of the chain link gate, he inched it forward. "Okay, Bonnie. See if you can squeeze through. If things don't go well, get up the hill and walk back along the runway. The guys in the patrol jeep'll see you." When she didn't move immediately, he touched her shoulder again and said, "Go. Now." She was frightened and trembling slightly, but not in a state of panic. "Aren't you coming with me?" Ed shook his head and opened the car door as he said, "Nope. Get moving." Bonnie got out and he joined her at the front of the car to help her crawl through the gate. As soon as she stood on the other side of the fence, he got in the car and let it back up until it was barely touching the fence. He then reached into the car for the gun and holster. Stuffing the holster in his left coat pocket, he let the gun's safety off, then looked up to see Bonnie still standing by the fence. "Why did you do that?" she asked. "Now you can't get through if you need to." "Neither can he, but if he thinks we did, he may waste some time trying. Would you please get the hell out of here now, Bonnie?" "I just wanted to tell you that I'm not running. I'm going to wait in the ditch, like you said, but I'm not running, Ed. If anything happens to you, I want to be able to tell them what happened and who did it." "Thanks, but look around, Bonnie. It's dark. Real dark. You won't see a damned thing from up there in the ditch unless he's stupid enough to have his lights on. Quit talking and get moving." Cade headed for the trees nearest the drums on the driver's side of the car and got behind one. From that distance, he could barely see the Ford and the gate and he couldn't see Bonnie at all. The Opel couldn't wait all night for them so close to the main gate of the base. Sooner or later the guy would have to figure that they'd turned around, but after two attempts and two misses, if Cade were in his shoes, he'd be damned careful about following them back to the main road. A few minutes went by before Cade faintly heard a car engine approaching. He couldn't see the car, of course, but the low sound of the engine told him that it was moving slowly and heading his way on the road. Without using his lights, the guy must have been just about groping his way along in order to stay on the pavement. As if to confirm that thought, the sound of crunching gravel came to him through the darkness once from some distance away. Another minute or so passed before the engine noise stopped. The guy had found the entrance to the service road gate. A car door opened and closed quietly perhaps fifty feet away, but Cade saw nothing. The guy must have bollixed his car's dome light, too.

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The occasional snow-muffled crunch of gravel meant that the guy was staying to one side of the entrance road as he approached. It sounded as if he'd come up to the Ford on the passenger side. As a vague figure inched around the car, Cade crouched low and eased forward until he was behind the drums, then slipped the holster out of his pocket and flipped it over the fence. The holster landed with a hollow flopping noise maybe ten feet from the fence. The guy on the other side of the Ford crouched instantly and backed around the car, keeping his gun trained toward the sound. Once he was completely behind the rear bumper, Cade cocked the .45 to get his attention. The guy stiffened at the sound, then turned only his head to look in Cade's direction. "Hi," said Cade, aiming at him through the six-inch gap between two of the drums. "Put the gun on the ground, not on my car." When the guy didn't move for a couple of moments, Cade repeated the order in German. The guy still didn't move. Cade tried French. The guy didn't move and still held his gun pointed in the direction of the fence. Cade stepped out from behind the end barrel and circled to approach the guy from behind, keeping the .45 centered on his back. The guy watched him as long as he could without turning more than his head. "Hey," said Cade. "I said put the gun down. _Gun. Down. Now._" "Nicht sprecht Eng..." the guy started to say. In German, Cade said, "Crap. You're stalling. Put the gun down." The guy flatly stated, "Ich bin Polizi."-_'I am police.'_ "So put the gun down, then prove it." The guy had put both of his hands on the trunk of the Ford. He shoved himself back, fell flat, and whipped his gun up to fire at Cade. Cade fired as he threw himself to the right, landed hard on the edge of the gravel, and rolled twice before propping the .45 up to again aim at the guy behind the Ford. The guy lay sprawled and his gun was on the ground at last, a few feet from his head. Cade caught his breath as he rose to his feet and cautiously approached the man on the ground. Pulling one of his paper towel 'handkerchiefs' out of his back pocket, Cade picked up the man's gun before moving closer to check him for signs of life. He was breathing, but he didn't sound too good. Cade stuffed the extra gun in his coat pocket. "Bonnie! Come on down to the gate!" he yelled. Cade got in his car, turned on the lights and engine, and again used it to push the gate open and got out. Bonnie came running down to the gate and squeezed herself through, then started to open the passenger door. "Just wait a minute," said Cade. "Can you drive a stick?" "What? No. Only an automatic. Why?" "Go see if his Opel is an automatic. See if the keys are in it. You're going for help." "But what if it isn't an automatic?" "Then you'll figure it out or go for help in first gear. Go check while I look for keys." Cade left the car running with the lights on as Bonnie stumbled away through the darkness. Grabbing the guy's arms, Cade dragged him several yards further back, then turned the car around so the headlights fell on him and illuminated the drive all the way back to the road. The Opel and Bonnie were now visible. Bonnie called, "Yes! It's an automatic! I need the keys!" Cade placed the .45's muzzle against the man's middle in an unbloodied area and checked his pockets. His right pocket rattled, so Cade fished out the keys and stood up, then backed away from the man on the ground. Bonnie came running up and reached for the keys. "I don't know if he's faking or not," said Cade, "But it looks bad enough. Make sure the gate guard sends an ambulance with the AP's."

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"Okay!" Bonnie took the keys and ran. Cade sat on the fender of his car and kept his eyes on his prisoner as he heard the Opel start, then heard screaming tires as Bonnie quickly turned the car around and headed for the base. Within ten minutes, five jeeps carrying ten AP's noisily arrived just ahead of the ambulance. Cade laid both of the guns on the ground next to the car and put his empty hands up as they approached. Two of the AP's immobilized his arms while another one patted him for other weapons and yet another one started toward the guns. Before Cade could say anything, a man barked, "Harris! You keep your gawddamned hands offa them guns! Nobody touches anything until the Lieutenant or me says so! This area is secure! Tell them medics to get in here!" The NCO, a sergeant, stepped up to Cade and asked, "The woman said you was a civilian. That right?" "I was and I still is a civilian," said Cade. "You from Alabama?" "Mississippi," said the NCO. "You got a good ear, but a smart mouth. Now show me some ID and tell me what happened." Cade looked at the AP on his right, who loosened his grip on Cade's arm as he fished out his wallet and ID card. "Got a tape recorder with you, Sergeant?" The NCO's gaze sharpened. "No, I ain't got no damned tape recorder with me." "Then I'll wait. I have to call my office, too. The .45 is mine. So is this Ford. The Walther PPK and the blue Opel belong to him. Can somebody get my holster? It's on the other side of the gate." The NCO just glared at Cade as he took the ID card. After another moment, he held the card near the headlight and examined both sides of it critically, as if hoping to discover it was a forgery. Another AP jeep pulled in just as the ambulance left and an officer approached Cade. On his sleeve was a Duty Officer's armband. "Got the duty on a holiday weekend, huh?" asked Cade. "My sympathies. That happened to me a few times, too." "You," said Hall, recognizing Cade's voice. Cade shrugged as much as he was able in the grip of the two AP's and said, "Yup. Me. This whole mess tonight may be part of the same emergency, Lt. Hall." Hall asked, "Do all of your emergencies last this long?" "Well, I'm only allowed one a week, so I try to get all I can out of them." The AP holding Cade's left arm stifled a laugh. The NCO asked, "You know this guy, Lieutenant?" "Sort of, Sergeant Miller. Seal the area for the I-team and the German police. Let him go, men. Mr. Cade, you'll ride with me. Let's get the hell out of this cold." "Sir," said Sergeant Miller, "He just shot a man. I'm not sure this..." Lt. Hall rather abruptly said, "But I am. Let's go." Miller peered at Cade for a moment, then said, "Yes, sir." As he turned to walk away, Cade asked, "Uh ... My holster, Sergeant?" "What about your holster?" asked Lt. Hall. "It's still on the other side of the fence. Anybody got a key for the gate?" Hall looked at the NCO and said, "If you can't get it now, send somebody back for it. Let's go, people. It's too damned cold out here." -------*Chapter Nine* By the time they got to Lt. Hall's office, an Air Force bird Colonel was waiting for them. He met them at the door and took Cade's arm, separating him from the others and leading him into Hall's office. As soon as he'd shut the door behind them, he said, "I'm Colonel Parks. We have about fifteen minutes until the German cops arrive. You're to say

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nothing to them about anything until your boss gets here, and he's on his way. Do you understand?" "Sure. Relax, Colonel. Things'll be fine." The Colonel's angry voice was piercing. "You shot a foreign national on base property and endangered one of my people tonight, mister. You don't tell me to relax." "I shot a man who was trying to shoot me. He did the endangering. All I did was take the lady to dinner." Cade opened the door and walked out. A quick look around the anteroom discovered the coffee pot. He grabbed one of the white glass cups and filled it, then looked around again. The Colonel signalled Lt. Hall into the office. Sgt. Miller stood not far away, watching Cade closely. "Where's the woman who was with me?" asked Cade. "Sgt. Wier?" "She's somewhere else," said Miller. "And _you_ don't need to know where she is unless one of them officers says you do." Cade stepped close to Miller and whispered, "Save the macho crap for someone it'll impress, Miller." Miller glaringly stepped back a pace and stiffly said, "I can't tell you where she is." Cade nodded and walked to the door of Lt. Hall's office. The muted voices from the other side of the door stopped when he tapped on the doorframe. "Who's there?" "Cade. Where's Sgt. Wier?" Hall came to the door and opened it. "She's at the womens' facility next door." Cade nodded, then asked, "Am I under arrest?" "No. Not at the moment, but it wouldn't be wise to try to leave." "I'm not leaving. Is she under arrest?" "Uh, no, she isn't. Why would you think she was?" "Because she isn't here," said Cade. "The womens' facility is about the size of the bathroom in this office, and more than half of it is a jail cell. Why keep her there?" "Wait one," said Hall. He raised his voice and said, "Sgt. Miller, bring Sgt. Wier over here, please, so that Mr. Cade won't think that she's being mistreated in any way. Give her a coffee and make her comfortable." "Yes, sir," said Miller, pulling his coat on as he headed for the door. Hall asked, "Happy now, Mr. Cade? Sorry, but separation of participants is standard procedure." "Absolutely ecstatic, Lt. Hall. Thank you." Cade parked himself on the sofa chair in the anteroom to wait for Bonnie's appearance and John's arrival. Although Bonnie had only to walk from one building to the other, John arrived before her. He set his briefcase down and slipped out of his coat as he glanced at Cade, who raised his coffee cup in salute. John nodded and looked around, then asked, "Where's Col. Parks?" Cade pointed at Hall's office and said, "He isn't happy." "That's normal for him," said John, heading that way to knock on the door. As John entered the office, Bonnie entered the anteroom with Sgt. Miller. She stepped ahead of him and hugged Cade. "Ed! Are you all right?" As Bonnie's arms unwrapped from around Cade, one of her hands snagged on something and there was a slight ripping noise. They discovered that her wristwatch had caught in a small gash in the fabric on the left side of his coat. "Oh, my God..." said Bonnie. "Did that happen when he shot at you?" "Must have. I'm fine. Want a coffee?" "No, I want to know what's going on." Sgt. Miller said, "Hold it, people. If that hole in your coat happened

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out there, we need a picture of it. Just stay put a minute." Miller produced an instant-picture camera from a nearby desk and took a couple of shots of Cade's coat, then set the pictures on the desk to develop. Cade looked at Miller as he said, "Putting you in the womens' facility next door was just a mistake, Bonnie. They were just following separation procedure until they knew what was going on. Right, Sgt. Miller?" "We're still following procedure," said Miller. "We're just doing it over here, now." Miller said nothing else as he hung his coat on the rack by the door and then took the pictures to Lt. Hall's office. Bonnie looked confused. "Why? Are we under arrest?" her voice contained a tone of alarm. "No," said Cade. "We aren't under arrest. They just want to interview us separately about all this. We'll talk, then we'll walk. Don't worry." The desk clerk's radio said, "Base. West gate." The clerk pressed the 'send' key and said, "Go ahead, West gate." "Two German police cars are heading this way." "They're on the guest list, gate. Just pass 'em through." "Okay, base." A few minutes later, three German cops entered the office. One was Inspector Frederich Hart, also known as "Freddy" to Cade's organization. Cade smiled and gave him a slight wave of his coffee cup. Freddy nodded and looked at Bonnie. Bonnie had seen Ed's familiarity with the German cop and likewise gave him a small wave as she said, "Hi," in a voice that matched the wave. "Good evening," said Freddy. He glanced around at the AP's nearby and asked, "If someone will be good enough to take me to Col. Parks..?" The other two German cops took seats across from Bonnie and Cade as Sgt. Miller conducted Freddy to Lt. Hall's office. In German, Cade asked, "Would you like some coffee while we wait?" Both men showed mild surprise at being addressed in German, and both men nodded agreement, so Cade went to the pot and brought back two cups for them. Bonnie said, "Ed, you didn't ask if they'd like cream and sugar." One of the cops smiled and said, "Nein, danke." The other cop said, "A bit of sugar would be appreciated." Bonnie had been taken slightly aback by the man's response in English, but she rose from her seat on the couch and said, "I'll get it." She brought back two packets of sugar and a stirring stick and presented them to the cop, who thanked her and added, "We speak some English, which is why we are here, of course." Turning to Cade, the cop said, "Your accent is interesting. I can't seem to place it." "Texas and Virginia," said Cade. "I mean your German accent," said the cop. "Texas and Virginia," said Cade, with a shrug. "I see," said the cop with a nod. Fifteen minutes passed before Bonnie was called into Hall's office. An equal amount of time passed before she was let out and Cade was called in. He took the seat next to the desk and looked at John. "Tell them what happened," said John. "Start to finish from the time you first called me about the Opel." Cade nodded and began speaking to the tape recorder's microphone. He was concise, but thorough, and ended by asking if anyone had retrieved his holster. John opened his briefcase and pulled out a manila folder, then read off a serial number and said to Lt. Hall, "That's the number of the weapon we have on file." Hall referred to a form and said, "It's a match." Standing up, he said, "If nobody has any other questions at the moment, it's time to let the German police take over."

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Ed Cade didn't bother to ask where they'd taken his target. The guy would likely still be in either Ramstein's emergency room or Landstuhl's, and it didn't matter. John would send someone by to talk to him wherever he was. Inspector Hart also stood up. He said that the man who had been shot was well known to the police, that he -- Hart -- was generally satisfied that the shooting had been needful, that copies of all reports should suffice for the moment, and that he knew how to reach all concerned if there were any more questions. Turning to Cade, he said, "I'll expect you and Sgt. Wier to visit my office tomorrow morning, Mr. Cade." "I'll bring her with me," said Ed. Lt. Hall stared in astonishment. "That's it?" he asked. "_Drop by in the morning?_" Hart shrugged. "Can you show me an emergency, Lt. Hall? Can you show me any reason to detain these people?" Cade said, "Thank you. Sgt. Wier and I were on a date. Before it gets too late, I'd like to see if she wants to continue our evening out." Lt. Hall simply stared at him for a moment, then said, "You shot a man this evening, Mr. Cade. Doesn't that mean anything to you?" "What it may mean to me is my business. If we're truly finished here, I'd like to see if Bonnie still wants to go dancing." Lt. Hall's gaping mouth snapped shut and his stare became a glare. John rolled his eyes and said, "Ed, you'll be coming to my office tomorrow, too. Go see how Bonnie's doing. It will be another few minutes before you two can leave." Cade nodded and left the office, ignoring the glares of Hall and Parks. Freddy's expression was impassive as he reached for one of the folders on Hall's desk. As Cade approached Bonnie, she stood up and asked, "Well?" "We'll probably be let loose in a little while," he said. "We have to drop by Inspector Hart's office in K-town tomorrow morning, then we'll visit my boss." Bonnie's expression was incredulous. "They're letting us go tonight?" "Hart says there's no reason to hold us." Cade turned to Sgt. Miller and asked, "Did anyone pick up my holster?" Miller said, "Yeah, we found it. It's with the gun." "Cool. Thanks." Cade turned to Bonnie and glanced at the wall clock, then said, "I'm going to the _Treffpunkt_. Do you want to go back to the BAQ and be bored and restless or come with me and soak up some music and a few drinks?" After a moment of confused surprise, Bonnie said, "Uh, yeah, well, I guess I may as well go with you. There's no reason not to, now, is there?" "Nope. Not that I can think of." Lt. Hall poked his head out of his office and said, "Sgt. Miller, come in here, please." Miller was in Hall's office only a couple of moments before returning to his desk. He said something to the office clerk and then called Bonnie and Cade to join him. Miller said, "As soon as he's through typing, you'll sign some forms and be free to go. Cade, here's your duty weapon back, but don't load it in my office." He reached into the office safe and set Cade's .45 and holster on his desk, then placed the magazine next to the holster on the side away from the gun. Bonnie sat staring at the weapon as Cade picked it up and checked the chamber for brass. Seeing Cade check to see if there was a round in the pistol, Miller said, "You gotta be kidding. I had it out before we got back here. It's in the magazine." Cade nodded and set the gun back on the desk. Once the clerk had finished typing and all the requisite signatures had been obtained, Miller

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again checked with the men in Lt. Hall's office and returned to tell one of his AP's to run Cade and Sgt. Wier back out to Cade's car. Once Bonnie and Cade were in his car and he'd started it, the jeep drove away. Cade set the car heater to max and reached in the back seat. "Gee," said Cade, as he reinstalled the dome light bulb and cover. "_I guess I may as well go with you. No reason not to, now._" He grinned at her and added, "Such enthusiasm." As she watched Cade stash the .45 under his seat, Bonnie primly arranged her coat and said, "Well, I had to think about it, you know. This hasn't exactly been the kind of date I'm used to." Pulling the car onto the Einsiedlerhof road, Cade said, "Ah. Well, I guess not. Good point. Sorry 'bout that." She giggled softly and said, "Actually, it's been kind of exciting. I hope the rest of the evening won't be a let-down." Cade glanced at her and said, "Can't guarantee anything except music and booze, ma'am. Anything else will be up to you." "Oh-ho! Just what do you mean by 'anything else'?" "I guess that will depend on how you define 'exciting'. Let's just see how things go. Maybe you'll get lucky twice in one night; maybe not." Bonnie's hand reached to swat his shoulder lightly. "_What!?_" she exclaimed. "_Twice?_ Oh, gee! Did I miss something?" Cade smiled at her and said, "Get your mind out of the gutter, Sarge. I was referring to the fact that we survived our encounter with what's-his-face. There's always a touch of luck involved in such things, and it could have been his luck instead of ours." Bonnie seemed somber for a moment before she said, "I didn't see any luck tonight. He missed both times on the road because of you, not because of luck." Cade glanced at her, then said, "I have a hole in my coat, Bonnie. It was that close because he pulled a slick move and got a shot off at me. Trust me; there's always a touch of luck involved in getting through something like that." His words seemed to create the silence that accompanied them to the intersection where the camper still lay in the ditch on the far side. Bonnie gazed at it while the red light changed to green and Ed turned the car north toward Kaiserslautern. She said, "Somebody's gonna be pissed in the morning." "Not a doubt. The cops will get in touch with the owner, though. Insurance will probably cover it." "What about the guy you shot? Where's he?" "Flat on his back in a hospital, if he's still alive. He lost a lot of blood." Cade expected her next question to be similar to Hall's _'Doesn't that mean anything to you?'_, but Bonnie surprised him. "Good," she said, expecting her answer to startle Cade and watching for his reaction. He gave her a glance and said, "Thanks." His answer startled her. "For what?" she asked. "For not being one of those confused, timid souls who seem to think that regrets are always required after something like that." -------*Chapter Ten* The Treffpunkt disco was located on the top of one of the many hills of the region. It may not have been the largest of the hills, but it was the noisiest. The walls of the ruins of a historically unimportant -- relative to surrounding ruins, that is -- stone building had been restored only enough to conceal the construction of a new building within those walls and provide a sheltered courtyard. As they wound their way up the hillside to the crowded parking area, a young man in a windowed booth stood up to meet them at the entrance. He

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spotted the green US plates on the car and the Landstuhl base sticker on the front bumper and raised a hand to stop them. "Privat," he said. In German, Cade answered, "I know. I've been here several times. Take this ID card and call Wilhelm about me." The kid looked at the ID, then looked at Cade and Bonnie. "No," he said. "I think I've seen your name on the register before. Go ahead." Cade thanked him and drove into the parking area. Bonnie looked back and grunted in a ladylike manner. "He's on the phone. He's calling about us anyway." "They'd fire him if he didn't," said Cade. "If visitors turn around when he says the place is private, that's just fine. If they won't, he isn't there to argue. That's someone else's job, and whoever crashes the gate is met at the door." Bonnie looked at him and asked, "How did you get in the first time?" "As a guest. A Turkish guestworker in a borrowed car caused an accident in K-town some time ago. The owner's wife was in the other car, and her leg was broken. I helped out in general and testified in court for her when they couldn't find the Turk. He'd skipped the country and her insurance company tried to claim that it couldn't be proven that she wasn't at fault. I was her proof that she wasn't." As Ed parked the car, she asked, "Is Wilhelm her husband?" "Nope. He's the door guard." With a grin, he added, "And no matter how drunk you get, don't ever call him 'Willy', please. I'd like to be able to come back here." Bonnie grinned back. "I'll try to remember that." Once they were out of the car, the faint thump of the music from the club became more noticeable. At the club's doors, Wilhelm gave Ed a handshake and visibly noticed the rip in his coat, but he didn't attempt conversation above the noise. As they checked their coats, they saw that the place was packed. Ten minutes later they had drinks and a place to stand near the bar as they watched people churning away on the dance floor. It seemed unlikely to Cade that they'd be able to find tables or even seats before closing time. The light show was in high gear, synchronized with the music's strongest beats and notes, and the atmosphere in the club was one of high intensity. Bonnie leaned close to yell, "Is it always like this?" Cade nodded. Leaning close again, Bonnie yelled, "How long do you want to stay?" With a shrug, Ed yelled back, "We can leave whenever you want." Bonnie pointed at her whiskey sour and yelled, "When this is gone." Cade nodded again and sipped his own drink, a gin and bitter lemon. He wondered why, if Bonnie hadn't been interested in going to a disco, she hadn't simply suggested somewhere else or opted for the BAQ, after all. With a gesture at the dance floor and a questioning look, he asked her if she wanted to dance. She eyed the dance floor briefly and then shook her head tersely. After gazing into her drink for a moment, she quickly drained it and set the glass firmly on the bar, then turned to face him. Bonnie clearly wanted to leave. Cade shrugged and likewise tossed back his drink, then put his glass next to hers. She took his arm in hers and led the way to the doors. Wilhelm seemed mildly surprised that they were leaving so soon, but again said nothing as he nodded goodnight to them and held Bonnie's coat while she slipped it on and zipped it closed. Once they were outside and the door had closed behind them, Bonnie stepped to one side of the walkway and leaned against the building's wall. Ed followed her, but he let her have some space as he, too, leaned on the wall next to her. The hand that Bonnie raised to brush her hair out of her face was shaking. She noticed the tremor and gazed at her hand for a moment before

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looking at Cade. When he only shrugged and crossed one leg over the other, she looked at her hand again and tilted her head back to draw a deep breath. "It happens immediately for some people," said Cade. "For others, it's like things have to soak in for a while." Bonnie glanced at him without moving her head. "So when does it soak in for you? I don't see you shaking like a damned leaf, and you're the one who got shot at." He grinned at her and said, "Other times and places, I've done enough shaking to last a lifetime." He shifted to avoid a phone line running down the wall and added, "See if your knees are working." "My knees..?" As she glanced down at her knees, they wobblingly gave way. She quickly straightened them again and struggled to keep them straight. "Don't fight it," said Ed. "Stay up against the wall and move them, one at a time, until they seem to be working right again, then test your weight on them." "Damn it, if you hadn't said anything, they might not have done that." Cade grinned at her and said, "Yeah. Right. You'd have found out the first step you took, Bonnie. Why do you think it took so long to hit you?" "I don't know, but I'd almost bet that you think you do." "Nope. Like I said, it hits some people fast and hits others later. No idea why. Do you feel okay otherwise?" "I'm not going to be sick, if that's what you mean." "Yup. That's what I meant, ma'am. Glad to hear it. Let that drink soak in a few minutes and see if you feel better then." Wilhelm poked his head out and spotted them by the doors. He asked in German, "Do you need assistance?" Cade shook his head and said, "The lady just had a bad scare this evening. She'll be fine soon." "Ah. Would you mind if I asked her the same question?" "Not at all, Wilhelm." Wilhelm nodded and asked Bonnie, "Do you need assistance?" Bonnie tried to stand away from the wall, but her knees still didn't quite work right. She gave Wilhelm a small wave and a small, embarrassed smile and let herself sag back against the wall. "No, thank you, Wilhelm. I'll be okay in a little while." "You could recover inside, where it's warm." "No, the cold will help me get organized." Wilhelm nodded and said to call if they needed him, held a brief conversation in German with Cade, then ducked back inside the club. Bonnie looked at Ed and asked what he'd said to Wilhelm. "I told him that something in your past had caught up with you." Bonnie's jaw dropped and she exclaimed, "You what..?" "Yup. Told him you'd got religion all of a sudden and realized the errors of your ways. Told him it hit you like a ton of bricks, and that you were out here doing penance for all of your past misdeeds, and that..." "No you didn't," she interrupted. "You couldn't have crammed all that into that little bit of German." "Well, maybe not in those exact words..." "Maybe nothing _like_ those words at all, smartass." Cade shrugged. "Maybe not. Your knees working yet, ma'am?" Bonnie levered herself off the wall and flexed her legs. "Yeah. I think so." He thumbed at the doors. "Back inside or somewhere else?" "Somewhere else. This place would be fine if I were in a different mood, but I'm not. Where else is there to go?" Taking her arm to steady her as they stepped back onto the walkway, he said, "Anything open at this hour would be about the same. I guess I'll run you back to the base and head home, then." Bonnie seemed thoughtful as they walked to the car through the beginnings of another snowfall. He got the door for her, got in and started

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the car to put the heater to work, and then took a moment to knock snow off the windows. She watched him in the mirrors as he methodically worked his way around the car. As they were following the winding lane down the hillside, she continued observing him. He didn't seem particularly disappointed about leaving the club and his first thought had been to take her back to Ramstein. Did that mean he was writing her off? "Ed," she said. "Here." He raised a hand from the steering wheel to accompany his reply. "Don't be upset with me, okay? I'm just not used to ... Well, the kind of stuff that happened this evening." Cade glanced at her briefly, then returned his attention to the winding little road. "I thought you handled things well enough, Bonnie. A lot of women would have come apart at the seams. For that matter, so would a lot of men, and they wouldn't have waited over an hour to get a case of the shakes." They'd reached the main road at the bottom of the hill. She fiddled with the heater vents and opened her coat to let the warm air hit her directly. "You mean that?" she asked. Ed nodded and said, "As far as I'm concerned, you did just fine. What time do you want me to pick you up in the morning?" "Huh? Oh. When do we have to be there?" Cade grinned and said, "He said morning. That means between nine and noon, as I define mornings. We'll give 'em time to wake up and get organized. Us, too. Want to meet at the BAQ, then drop by the mess hall for breakfast?" "Uh, okay, if you want to. But how far do you have to come to pick me up, Ed? I can get a ride into town with the AP's for something like this." "No biggie," said Cade. "It's only ten miles to Ramstein base from my place. We could make the office visits and then spend the day wandering around, if you'd like. Ever shop in the C&A store in K-town?" "The what?" "I guess you could say it's the German equivalent of Sears. We can have lunch in the Schlossplatz, too." "The what?" He grinned at her. "Geez, lady. Don't you get out at all?" Bonnie shrugged. "Not much, I guess. Not like you, anyway. Would you like to hear another idea?" Cade thought she was going to suggest some other Saturday afternoon activity as he said, "Sure. There are lots of places to go around town after John lets us go." When she didn't answer immediately, he looked across at her. She was arranging her coat to funnel the warm air inside it. "Ed," she said pensively, "I think I'd rather go home with you." She'd managed to startle him, after all. He glanced at her again. She looked up from her efforts and said, "If there's a problem..?" Cade quickly interjected, "No. No problem. I just wasn't expecting that kind of suggestion." He smiled and said, "I thought you had somewhere else in mind for lunch or shopping or something like that." She smiled and shook her head. "I don't know anything about Kaiserslautern. I've only been to town once, and that was to pick up some personnel records. I would like to swing by the BAQ and pick up clothes for tomorrow, though." "No problem," he said with a grin. "But may I ask how you came to this decision? You don't seem the type to sleep over on the first date." Bonnie gave him a flat gaze. "I'm not. But this hasn't been a typical first date, has it? I don't want to be alone tonight, Ed. I'd like to leave it at that, if you don't mind." "Consider it left, then. Something else, Bonnie; if you decide that

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you'd rather sleep on the couch, that's okay, too. I don't like winning by default." Her confused "Huh?" was genuine. "What do you mean by that, Ed?" "I mean that a night with you would be a fine thing, but I don't need to get laid badly enough to take advantage of your emotional or mental state. Don't feel that you have to sleep with me to avoid being alone with what's in your head." "How the hell would you know what's in my head?" "How would it be much different from what would be in anyone's head? You've had a rough evening. Some of it will replay itself whether you want it to or not. If you need to talk, we'll talk. If you just need someone with you in order to sleep, that's fine, too. I'm just saying that..." Bonnie gave him a slightly frustrated look and interrupted with, "Well, maybe you're saying more than you need to, Ed. I like you, so if you don't mind, I'd like to sleep with you tonight. You don't have to worry about how I'm handling things, okay?" He glanced at her in the lights from the dash. "Yeah," he said. "Okay. You just keep in mind that I won't be too upset if you change your mind later. Good enough?" After a moment, she nodded and smiled at him, shaking her head. "Yeah. Sure. Good enough. Thanks for trying to be a nice guy, Ed." "All part of the service, lady. No extra charge. What do you mean, _'trying'?_" Bonnie grinned at him and shrugged. "You're kind of like my Dad's WW-2 buddy who stayed at the ranch for a while after Dad broke his leg in a fall. His name was Stone, and he kept to himself a lot, but he helped out around the place and seemed to get along with everybody. I found out later that he was really there to find out who had rigged Dad's accident. One of our hands, a guy named Sanchez, had been paid to cause the accident. Stone caught him sabotaging some equipment. I was a nosy fifteen-year-old. When I saw Stone sneaking around outside the house, I went from window to window to watch him." She paused and shuddered, then opened her coat to the heater vent and continued, "Stone caught Sanchez near the tractor. Sanchez did something real fast and Stone dropped to the ground, then lunged at Sanchez and took him down. I grabbed the shotgun and ran out there, but Stone was gone when I rounded the corner of the barn. I didn't see the knife sticking in the barn wall until I walked right into it and it cut my arm. Sanchez was dead then, I think, but I didn't go near him to find out. I ran back to the house to call the sheriff and heard men talking upstairs. I sneaked up the stairs, ready to shoot all the way, and found Stone talking to my Dad." Bonnie pulled her coat closed and turned on the seat to face Cade. "Stone found nearly $3000 on Sanchez and gave it to my Dad. My Dad asked if there'd be any problems and Stone said he'd make it look like a fall from the tractor, then call the cops. That's when I stepped up to the doorway and asked what the hell was going on." She laughed and rolled her eyes. "I was _so_ dumb. Stone had the shotgun before I realized my hands were empty. He gave it to Dad, then turned my arm to get a look at my cut. He sent me to the bathroom to wash out the cut and told Dad he'd be back in a few minutes to patch me up, then went downstairs. My Dad had a look at my cut, then handed me the shotgun and told me to put it away on the way to the bathroom." The Ramstein gate was just ahead and Cade slowed down for it as they both pulled out their ID's to show the guard. The guard glanced at both cards and waved them through. "Anyway," said Bonnie, "Stone made it look as if Sanchez had slipped while trying to do something to the tractor. The next day, Stone left the ranch for a while and came back with another $12,000 that he gave to Dad. He stayed with us until Dad was up and working again, then left us one morning. I've never seen him since."

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-------*Chapter Eleven* As they pulled up in front of the BAQ steps, Cade grinned and asked, "Well, are you going to tell me why I remind you of Stone?" Grinning back at him with a shrug and a tilt of her head, Bonnie said, "Nope." She got out of the car and hurried into the building. Cade parked the car and went in to see if they had any coffee. The desk clerk glanced up as he entered, then went back to her book when she saw him head for the coffee pot. In the vague, translucent reflection from the fishtank in the corner of the reception room, Cade saw Bonnie coming down the carpeted hall behind him. She spotted him, sitting on the couch and apparently watching the TV and sipping coffee, and very carefully and quietly set her small suitcase by the clerk's desk. Swearing the clerk to silence with a gesture, she tiptoed to within a few feet of the couch, stretching to reach for his shoulder as she prepared to surprise him. "Hi, Bonnie," said Cade, just before her hand could make contact. She jerked her hand back, almost losing her balance, and the clerk giggled. "_Dammit!_" snapped Bonnie. "How the _hell_ do you do that? I _know_ I didn't make any noise. I _know_ it!" As he turned slightly to grin up at her, she held up a damp finger and added, "And you didn't smell my perfume or anything, either. The vents blow toward the desk." "Yes, ma'am. You were very quiet and I didn't smell you sneaking up on me." "Well, then, how did you know I was there?" "Just did. And the fact that you want to know so badly makes me leery of telling you, lady. You ready?" "Now I'm not sure," she said, then, "Oh, hell. Yes, I'm ready. The clerk needs to know how to reach me, though." Cade stood and went to the desk with Bonnie, where he looked right at her and smiled as he said, "The name is Cade. Ed Cade." Bonnie giggled softly. "C-A-D-E?" the clerk asked, her eyes narrowing as she wondered what was so funny. "Yup," said Cade. "Address?" "Eighty-two Johannesgasse, K-Town," he said. "Second floor." "Apartment number?" When he said, "None. I have the whole floor," the clerk glanced up at him briefly before reading the next question. "Occupation?" "State Department." The clerk looked up again and said, "No, sir. It wants to know what you do. Who you work for is further down." "Put that down there, too, then. If they want you to know, they'll tell you. Their rules, not mine." The clerk looked at him somewhat sharply for a moment, sighed, then continued. "Work and home phones?" "Call Lt. Hall or Sgt. Miller, with the AP's. They'll know how to reach me." The clerk put the clipboard down with another sigh and rested her elbows on her desk and her chin on her knuckles as she looked up at him. "Why can't you can't just give me phone numbers? They could put the base on alert again and Sgt. Wier would have to get back here quick." "Then Hall or Miller can reach me or come and get her." The clerk gave him a hard look before tilting her head enough to read

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the next question. "Anticipated length of time off-base? Or should I put _'State Department'_ in that block, too, _sir?_" "One night," said Cade. "I'll have her back to you tomorrow." "Two nights," said Bonnie. "Back Sunday or Sunday night." Cade raised an eyebrow, as did the clerk, and both looked at Bonnie. "I changed my mind," she said, looking at Cade with a shrug. "So sue me." The clerk tapped her pen on the clipboard and said, "I'll put you down for two. Vehicle make, model, and license number?" "Oh, come on, Marcie," said Bonnie. "Nobody ever fills out the stuff under..." Marcie interrupted her by gazing steadily at Cade and again asking, "Vehicle make, model, and license number?" Ed asked, "Info to give the AP's if necessary, right?" Marcie smiled sweetly and said, "That's right, Mr. Cade." Cade smiled back at her and said, "Then you can run out in the snow and read the info right off my car or you can call the AP desk right now, Marcie. Ask them for the info they already have to fill in the rest of your form, because I'm not making a special trip out to the car just for a license number and we're leaving before you waste any more of our time." Bonnie quickly put her hands on Ed's chest and backed him a few feet away from the desk, then whispered buzzingly with Marcie for several moments. When she'd finished, Marcie stood up, gazed at Cade for a moment, then walked around her desk to face him briefly before she walked around behind him. "I don't see a cape, Sgt. Wier. No red boots, either." "I was _there,_ Marcie. Tom Greer was on duty at the AP shack tonight. Call and ask him what happened." Marcie walked back to her desk and picked up the clipboard. She gave Bonnie and Ed a bright, shiny expression and said, "Oh, I _will._ I _promise_ I will. But you haven't told me why I shouldn't make you take this form to the duty officer for a signature." Cade quietly said, "Maybe you _should_, Marcie." Marcie peered hard at him, her expression questioningly challenging. "The duty officer is Lt. Hall, Marcie," continued Cade. "One of the guys who wrote everything up earlier. I'm sure he'd be properly appreciative. He's had a full day and he's having a full night. You'd cap his evening perfectly with this kind of crap." Bonnie asked, "Would you two stop growling at each other?" and stepped between Cade and Marcie, glancing back and forth at each of them. "I just want to get going, Marcie. You don't have to like him in order to sign me out, do you?" Marcie leaned against her desk and crossed her arms, giving Cade another smile as she took the opportunity to back away with grace. "_Like_ him? No, I guess not. That won't happen, anyway." She gave them a dismissing wave and said, "Sure. Have a good time. See you later, Bonnie." Grabbing Cade's arm and her suitcase, Bonnie said, "Thanks, Marcie. Ed, let's go." She handed the suitcase to Cade and headed for the door. With quick strides where possible and mincing steps on the ice and snow, Bonnie silently led the way to the car through the parking lot. About halfway to the car, she glanced at Ed Cade and muttered, "Jeez. People either love you or hate you pretty much right away, don't they?" Cade shrugged. "Yeah, it seems that way, doesn't it?" "What did you say to her? While I was getting my stuff, I mean?" "Nothing. Maybe that's what was bugging her." "Nothing? Nothing at all?" "Nothing. Not one damned word. Promise. I got a coffee and sat down to wait for you. Nothing else." Ed opened the car door for her and put her bag on the back seat, then

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got in and started the car. In the rearview mirror, Marcie could be seen standing in the BAQ doorway, clipboard in hand. Just to be difficult, he decided to cross the parking lot obliquely to prevent her from getting a good look at his license plates. As he turned the car, Bonnie said, "Marcie's standing in the doorway. She's going to try to catch your plate number as you go by." They were nearly to the parking lot exit when he said, "Yup. Saw her." "Well, are you going to stop by the door?" "You want me to?" "Yeah, Ed. Let her get the plate number. I have to deal with her every day." Cade nodded. He stopped the car at the exit, then backed up and turned the rear of the car into the CO's slot, directly in front of the door. A little extra gas made the back tires hop the curb and he let the rear bumper gently kiss the second step leading up to the BAQ door. Bonnie whipped her head around to look out the rear window and asked, "What the hell are you doing!?" "Letting her get a look at the license number. Up close. Too bad the doors aren't at ground level." "What you're doing is _mooning_ her with the car, dammit!" "Yeah, that too, I guess," said Cade, putting the car in first gear. "Think she's seen enough? She ought to have the number by now." He didn't wait for her reply. Letting the car drift forward, he eased it off the sidewalk and headed them toward the exit again, pausing to let another car come into the lot. "Don't worry," he said. "She saw you looking frantic and mortified, so she knows it wasn't your idea." After a moment of glaring, Bonnie asked, "Why the hell did you do that?" Cade shrugged. "I don't like people who decide to hassle other people without good reason. I also don't like petty, bureaucratic tyrants. She was both." "What if she's petty enough to report that you backed your car onto the sidewalk?" "Well, in that case, there was a patch of ice near the curb. No biggie." Bonnie swept her hair back and sighed deeply. In a tired, irritated tone, she asked, "Didn't I say something about having to deal with her every day? Didn't I mention that? I'm pretty sure I mentioned that." "So deal with her. You outrank her and she didn't have to hassle us." Facing him, Bonnie said, "Well, maybe I don't _want_ to have to deal with her, Ed." Cade peered at her briefly in the semi-darkness and said, "Fine, then you won't have to." Instead of moving out of the lot, Cade turned the car around again and nosed it into the CO's parking slot. He left it running as he silently got out, took her suitcase from the back seat, put it down on the sidewalk, then came back to open her door. Bonnie looked up at him disbelievingly for a moment, then swung her legs out and stood up. He closed the car door and turned to get her suitcase. She walked up behind him and asked, "So, this is it? We have a little disagreement about something and it's over?" Turning to face her as he picked up her suitcase, Cade said, "We can try again when we're in better moods, if you want. A bad mood is no way to begin anything." Her glare hadn't abated. She reached for the suitcase and said, "No, I don't think we'll be trying again, Ed. Give me my bag." He moved a pace backward and said, "Just to clarify things, I'll pick you up in the morning. Nine o'clock. We don't know how long this will take, so

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plan on lunch in town." "I'll get there on my own," she said. "Now give me my bag." "In a minute. Get _where_, exactly?" Bonnie glared at him and said, "The ... The German police station. The main one." Cade matched her gaze and said, "Well, that was vague enough. Bonnie, I told the second-highest German cop in the area that I'd _bring_ you. Beyond that, my offices want to see us, too. _Us_, not just me. Let's just do this and get it over with." Bonnie rolled her eyes and said, "Oh, all _right_, dammit, but you can bet that if I knew how to get there, I'd go by myself." Ed silently handed her the suitcase, then turned to walk to his car. Bonnie watched him get in and put it in reverse, then back out of the slot and head toward the exit. She turned to start up the steps, shaking her head in general disbelief, and then she saw Marcie, holding her clipboard and looking down at her from the doorway. Marcie didn't open the door for her, but she did back slightly away as Bonnie entered. Bonnie stopped to gaze at her for a moment. The smirk on Marcie's face made up Bonnie's mind for her. Marcie's name would be submitted for transfer to the least desirable posting available as soon as possible. Marcie saw the look of intent settle on Bonnie's face and realized that some kind of line had been crossed. Thinking that Bonnie might hit her, she backed away another few paces and started to say, "He wasn't...", but Bonnie interrupted her. In a quiet, cold tone, she said, "What he was or wasn't was _my_ business, not yours. Don't ever talk to me again unless it's in the line of duty, Marcie." "But, I was only..." With a condescending smile and the same cold tone, Bonnie said, "You were _what?_ Only doing your job, maybe a little _too_ well? Airman, this is official. I'm a Sergeant, and I just gave you a direct order. If necessary, by God, I'll do it again in front of witnesses tomorrow. If you don't like it, you can take it up the ladder, but you'll follow my order until someone bigger than me says different. Do you understand, or do you need a few extra duties to help you understand?" "I ... Yes, I understand, _Sergeant_ Wier." "Good. Excellent. Now let me see you sign me back in and get back to your desk. Since I'm going to be around tonight, anyway, I'll come back and help you find things to do out here after I've put this stuff away. You need to be too busy to have time to screw around with people and the Air Force may as well get some real work out of you." With that, Bonnie watched as Marcie signed her back into the BAQ. She then shifted her suitcase to her other hand headed down the hall to her room. At the base's west gate, the same guard who'd waved Cade in waved him out, seeming slightly confused as he realized that Cade was alone in the car. -------*Chapter Twelve* At eight in the morning Cade stopped at the AP offices and had the desk clerk call the BAQ to make sure that Bonnie was up and moving, then he left his car in the AP lot and headed to the nearby dining hall to grab a quick breakfast. When he returned to the AP office, Bonnie was waiting for him. She wore jeans, cowboy boots, and a flannel shirt and had a denim, drawstring-top bag with her. She looked up from her magazine as he entered, but said nothing as she sipped her coffee. Cade went to Sgt. Miller's desk and asked if the AP's had anything that needed to be delivered to the Kaiserslautern cops. Miller hesitated, then pulled two manila envelopes from his desk drawer. "Yeah. One is your case. The other has to do with something else," said Miller.

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He wet-sealed and taped each envelope shut, then signed his name across the edge of the tape before handing them to Cade. "Since you're going that way, anyway," said Miller, "Sure. Thanks. Tell them to call me when they get this stuff." "Will do." Turning to Bonnie, Cade asked, "Ready, Sgt. Wier?" She stood up and slipped into her coat. "Just waiting for you. Let's go." At the car, she didn't wait for him to open her door. As they passed the maintenance gate where the shooting had occurred, she looked at the spot, but then kept her nose buried in her magazine and said nothing until they reached the Einsiedlerhof intersection, where she looked up again. As they waited at the light, Bonnie said, "The trailer's gone." "Yup. It was in the dealer's lot up the hill. The back end was wrecked." She nodded and returned to her reading until they reached the stop and go of in-town traffic. Putting the magazine in the denim bag, she spent the remainder of the trip to the police station gazing at passing scenery. Other than answering police questions, Bonnie maintained her general silence until they left the police station and headed back to the car. "Where to now?" she asked. "My offices," said Cade. "Sixteen blocks north. Wanna walk?" That earned him a grumpy glance and a shake of her head. "Tell you what, then," he said, "It's only a little after ten. If John doesn't keep us too long, we'll skip lunch and I'll run you straight back to base." Bonnie stopped walking and looked at him. "You're really in a hurry to get rid of me, aren't you?" Cade shrugged. "I've had more enthusiastic company. Let's just get this over with and get on with our lives, okay?" After a moment, Bonnie said, "Yeah, sure," and they continued toward the car. Like towns in America, towns in Germany festooned their streets with Christmas ornamentation for a month or so prior to Christmas. Bonnie obviously saw a few such ornaments that didn't make much sense to her, so Cade explained a few of them without being asked. Bonnie nodded now and then, but otherwise remained silent. At one of the newer glass and steel buildings in town he nosed the car into an underground garage entrance and stopped at the checkpoint booth just inside. A guard checked his ID and Bonnie's, asked where they were going in the building, and then passed them into the parking areas. "Don't they know you?" asked Bonnie. "That particular guard doesn't," said Ed, "But it wouldn't matter. I don't work in this building and they're supposed to ask." "I thought you said these were your offices." "They're my agency's offices. I've been here maybe eight times in two years." Cade parked the car and slipped the .45 into its holster. Elevator service from the garage level stopped at the lobby and required changing elevators on weekends. This funneled foot traffic past the guards at the security desk. Their ID's were checked again and one of the guards called someone about Cade's gun before they were passed to board an elevator to go to the third floor. A woman named Gloria Trayner met them at the elevators and escorted them to John's office. Ed had met her several times before, and on those occasions she'd been friendly, but this time she was all business, tersely greeting them and leading them briskly down the hall. Over her shoulder she said, "Sorry to rush you, but I've got a lot on my plate this morning. Linda's on her way in with Debra McAlister. They've been at the morgue." Tapping on John's door and receiving an answer, she poked her head in

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and announced them, then held the door open for them and closed it behind them. After greeting them and introducing himself, John appeared thoughtful for a moment, then said, "Good news and bad news, Ed. I'm allowing Sgt. Wier to hear this because it'll involve her. Quickly put, the guy you shot belongs to a crime syndicate and they weren't too happy to learn that he'd been moonlighting. They'd have probably shot him themselves, but you beat them to it. Because he's in a hospital on a US base, under guard, they can't reach him too easily, and they're afraid he'll talk in exchange for immunity and relocation. That's someone else's immediate problem, not ours, but it ties in with something else." John suspended talking while Gloria brought in four coffees and a tray of condiments and snacks. To Ed and Bonnie's surprise, she didn't take a seat, instead heading for the door. Before leaving, Gloria said, "Downstairs just called. She's on her way up." John nodded and said, "Bring her right in, please." Reaching for one of the coffees, he said, "Dig in, people. My other guest will arrive momentarily." As they prepped their coffees and nibbled snacks, the door opened again and in walked Debra McAlister. Cade was startled to see her, but Bonnie's mouth fell open in surprise before her eyes narrowed slightly. Debra's tall frame was encased perfectly in a dark blue skirt and jacket ensemble that made her look as if she were on her way to a business meeting that might become an evening outing. Cade decided to pretend that he didn't know about her daughter. "Hi, Debra," he said. "Wow. You look delicious in that outfit." Bonnie's eyes narrowed further briefly as she glanced at him. Debra's gaze seemed somewhat distant before she turned to focus on him. The left side of her face was swollen and her makeup only attempted to conceal the bruising caused by Steele's fist. "I'm supposed to," Debra said rather distractedly. "That's why I wore it." She'd obviously been crying hard and had stopped only recently, and Ed wondered why she'd felt impelled to dress so stunningly for a visit to John's office. John reassumed control of the meeting at that point. "Have a seat, Ms. McAlister. Debra. That extra coffee is yours. The other young lady is Sgt. Bonnie Wier. She's in the Air Force and was with Ed last night when it happened." Debra nodded to Bonnie as she reached for the coffee and said, "It must have been terrifying for you, Sgt. Wier." "Uh, yes. It was," said Bonnie, her eyes fixed on Debra as she sat down by the desk. "Well, you probably couldn't have been in better company for something like that," said Debra. "I've already had the pleasure of Ed's intercession on my behalf." Apparently Bonnie couldn't help saying, "Well, if you'll pardon my saying so, it looks as if he was a little late stepping in." "He was," said Debra, "But it wasn't his fault. It was mine. All mine." Bonnie sat very still for a moment, then said, "A lot of women come to believe that being battered is their fault..." Debra's eyes flashed in surprise, then she managed a short laugh. "Uh, no, not this time, Sgt. Wier. It wasn't a domestic matter. I guarantee you that I'm fully responsible for what happened. I did something totally stupid yesterday." Bonnie didn't seem convinced, but John said, "Discuss it later, ladies. We're here because we have something else to talk about at the moment. The drug hounds want what's in our prisoner's head and seem willing to cut whatever kind of deal is necessary to get it. His own people want him because

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his crime syndicate is known to have ties to the Red Guard and other terrorist organizations. We don't think they're above quietly taking hostages to arrange a trade if they can't get someone into the hospital to kill him, so we're moving him to a more secure medical facility." After a sip of coffee, John said, "State and the DEA think that three people are at highest risk as potential hostages. You are those people. I disagree, of course, because it really wouldn't matter who the hell got snatched for a quiet exchange. They could grab any American for the trade." He sipped again, then continued, "I had a feeling something like this might happen, so I brought Ms. McAlister in late last night, as soon as we discovered who and what our prisoner was. I also suggested that we stash all three of you in a safe house and wait for the next move, but some people above me seem to think you're all more useful as bait." As Bonnie stood up, she exclaimed, "Bait for terrorists? _Me?_ I don't _think_ so!" "You were there last night, Sgt. Wier. You were with Ed when it happened. They have no way of knowing that you were just a passenger, nor would they care." "Well, then, put me on a plane back to the States! I know you can do that!" "Ordinarily, I probably could. At the moment, I probably can't." In a rather strident voice, Bonnie yelled, "Do you really mean you _won't?_" John raised a hand shook his head. "No, I mean _can't_. It isn't my decision any more. I can only work around it." Ed Cade reached to touch Bonnie's arm. She'd been fully focused on John, so she flinched mightily and her attempt to step back caused her to plummet back into her chair, nearly tipping it backward. Cade grabbed the edge and prevented her fall. "Bonnie," he said, "Take a good look at Debra. She's the real bait." Without looking away from Bonnie, he asked, "Right, Debra?" Bonnie's gaze fixed on Debra and Cade's followed. Debra sipped her coffee, then lowered the cup with a nod. "John called me last night about the situation," she said. "Ed was to be the bait. John offered to put me on a plane while he still could and call it an admin error." Bonnie's eyes fixed on John and she asked in a low tone, "How come you didn't offer me a ride out, too? Because I'm just a sergeant, not a civilian?" John looked at her for a moment, then said, "Actually, I tried to do just that last night, Bonnie. You had a reservation on a MAC flight until six this morning. It was cancelled and I was told not to try that again." "_By who?"_ Bonnie asked sharply. "Whom," said Debra. When Bonnie glanced at her, she said, "'Whom', not 'who'." "Do you really think I give a damn, lady?" snapped Bonnie. "Enough," said John. "I'd prefer that Ed be the bait, but we have to accept that all of you are candidates, even though Debra would probably be their first choice due to her public job and her involvement. For that reason, I'm putting Bonnie in the hands of Air Force security and I'm moving Debra to one of our safehouses. Ed, your job is to stick close to Debra. If they try anything, I want you there." Bonnie's tone was incredulous as she said, "First you call us bait, then you say you're going to hide us. Why doesn't that make any sense?" "Because there's more to it than that," said Cade. "You'll be out of reach. We won't be." Turning to John, he asked, "Is Carter downstairs today?" "See him before you go. Bonnie, you'll be leaving with the AP's in a few minutes. They won't be taking you back to Ramstein, and I can't say where they're taking you, so don't ask. Just know that I'm doing all I can to keep you out of things."

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He tapped a buzzer on his phone and Gloria answered. John asked, "Is Colonel Parks ready to take Sgt. Wier?" From somewhere in the anteroom, the Colonel's voice replied, "We're ready." "Okay," said John. "Come and get her." Debra asked, "A colonel? _I_ can order colonels around, John. What's this guy going to do when someone from State tells him to take her back to Ramstein?" "Nothing," said John. "Nobody from State or any other office will be able to find him in order to tell him anything once they leave here." Colonel Parks entered the office in a business suit, accompanied by a woman who was also dressed in civilian attire. "Sgt. Wier," said Parks, "You're to go with this woman for a change of clothes and hair color, then she'll bring you back to us and we'll leave. Save your questions for later, please. There'll be plenty of time." Bonnie stood up and glanced back at Cade, who simply nodded. After a moment's gaze at John, she turned to Parks and said, "Yes, sir," before walking out the door. The woman glanced at Parks, then followed Bonnie. Parks looked at Cade and said, "Don't worry, we'll take good care of her, Mr. Cade," before he, also, left the room, closing the door behind him. When Cade looked back toward John and Debra, Debra was looking at him oddly, with one eyebrow raised. "Next on the agenda," said John, "Is outfitting Ed. I'll call Carter and let him know you're on the way down. Take Debra with you." Cade looked up in surprise and said, "Uh, are you sure..?" John nodded. "She was here half an hour before you, signing updated SA's and generally being briefed on what she could and couldn't talk about." Quoting from the Security Act form, Debra gave them a small smile as she finished with, "...Which all just means, as always, that I can't _say_ anything _about_ anything that I haven't _officially_ seen to _anyone, anywhere, ever_." Cade said, "Yeah, that about covers it. Okay, then, let's go see Carter." In the elevator, Debra asked, "That girl ... Is she your girlfriend? Colonel Parks seemed rather concerned that you'd be concerned about her." With a wry smile, Cade punched the elevator's B3 button and said, "He knew we'd been on a date last night. It was our first date and will probably be our last. It ended poorly, given the events of the evening." "Ah," she said with a knowing nod. "Understandable." It was a moderately awkward moment. Cade asked her if she could handle a gun. "A gun? You mean like a handgun?" "Yup, that's what I mean," he said, pulling the .45 out of his back-of-the-belt holster. "Something like this, but more your size." Debra shied slightly as he brought the gun around and held it in the flat of his hand to show her, but she stabilized quickly. "Nothing like that," she said. "My brother let me shoot his little revolver, though." Ed put the .45 back in its holster and said, "We'll find you something you can handle and spend some time on the range before we leave." "Before ... You mean there's a shooting range in this building?" Cade nodded as the doors opened. Carter met them at the elevator. He was an affable man in his forties who seemed most impressed with Debra. After an introduction, he led them to a locked room. They followed him into the gloom as he reached for a light switch. Debra gasped audibly as the lights came on and revealed walls and shelves full of various types of firearms. "So," said Carter. "What's first on your list?" "Ammo," said Cade. "Got anything more effective than hollowpoint .45 slugs?"

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"Not in a pistol round. You want to check out a .45?" Cade shook his head as he showed Carter his .45 and said, "Nope. Got one. How about a box of ACP rounds for the range and a couple of extra magazines of hollowpoints for the road, then?" Carter dropped the magazine out of the gun and into his hand examined it, then went to a drawer and retrieved two more like it with their belt cases. He put the gun and magazines on a table and then went to a nearby drawer for ammunition. "Here's a box of plain-old stuff for the range and a box of hollowpoints. You can load your own magazines while I talk to this lovely lady." Turning to Debra, he asked, "Lovely lady, what kind of gun do you think you'd like? I have a fine little .25..." Before Debra could answer, Cade said, "Try the lovely lady on a .38 Special first. She said she's handled her brother's revolver before. If she actually has to shoot anyone, I want her shooting something that'll do more than piss him off." -------*Chapter Thirteen* Carter led Debra to a wall display and handed her one of the guns from it as Cade began loading magazines for use on the range. She tried the grips of perhaps half a dozen of them before Carter suggested that she try her luck with one in particular to see how she liked it. Bringing the gun to Ed, she asked, "What do you think?" It was a six-shot Colt snub-nose with a blued finish and wooden grips. The gun couldn't have weighed two pounds. He hefted it and pulled the hammer back. The action was stiff, but that could be a good thing for someone unfamiliar with weapons. He nodded and handed it back to her. "She's all yours, Carter. Show her how to use it. I'm going to go kill some paper." Scooping up his .45, the ammo boxes, and the extra magazines, Cade headed for the door. Debra glanced from Carter to Cade and rather sharply asked, "Don't you want to watch to see how well I do with it?" Cade turned in the doorway and said, "Nope. I don't need to watch you learn how to use a gun. Carter will let me know if you pass." At booth number four, he set everything on the low, padded countertop and reached for the Lysol under the counter, then sprayed some on the earphone-style hearing protectors. When he reached for a paper towel to wipe them, he caught a glimpse of Carter and Debra heading for a booth on the other end of the line. Her return look told him she felt somewhat alone. Carter didn't count; he was someone she'd just met. Cade nodded to her and turned back to his counter to load his weapon with -- as Carter had called them, "plain olds" -then put on the earphones. His first shot at the fifty-yard, man-shaped target didn't feel right, but he chalked that up to unfamiliarity with the weapon and fired again. Picking up the binoculars, he saw that both rounds were barely in the black on the target's left side. Mentally adjusting his aim, he fired twice more and checked his hits. This time the holes appeared closer to the white circle in the center of the silhouette. His next two rounds were to the right of the circle. _Damn. No two guns alike, and all that. Focus..._ _Boom_, and the last round from the seven-shot clip finally hit inside the damned ring. Cade examined the gun critically. _Take any ten like it to a range. They'd all look exactly alike and they'd all shoot a tiny bit differently. Good thing his first real target while using it had been close and holding relatively still._ He dropped the clip and shoved in the next one, then concentrated on the silhouette's head. Being able to hit a smaller target at that distance

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raised the odds of hitting a larger target at closer range in a field situation. This time he simply aimed and fired until the magazine was empty, then put the gun down and reeled in the target. Four hits in the head, counting one that only grazed the right edge of the picture. Oh, well. Any hit from a .45 is meaningful. He patched the holes with black dot labels and sent the target back out, then reloaded the empty magazines. Fourteen rounds later he again reeled in the target. Two shots had missed the black silhouette by inches. The rest had all hit some part of it. Good enough for that distance. After reloading, he sent the target to half the distance and practiced spot-shooting. When all rounds from two clips had hit in the black, he put up a new target and worked on getting the weapon out of its holster and on target as quickly as possible. Being used to a smaller gun in a belly holster, drawing the .45 from the region of the small of his back and bringing it around his body within the confines of the booth proved to be a chore at first. Cade wanted to keep the motion tight and develop his speed, but as he brought his speed up, he found himself almost slinging the gun into position. Not good. Too tight a grip and a tendency to yank the trigger. After a while, he realized that he'd reached his immediate maximum of speed and efficiency and decided to take a break. He put the gun on the counter, set aside enough rounds of the new hollowpoint ammo for after-practice reloading, and walked down to Debra's booth. "...And if you're going to shoot at a guy that size, shoot twice," Carter was saying. "On my command, put two quick rounds in each of the close targets. _Fire!_" Cade watched her quickly slam each twenty-yard target twice and tilt the gun toward the ceiling. All of her hits were in the black. Carter glanced up and nodded. Debra noticed the motion and set the gun on the counter before turning around and shifting her ear protectors to her neck. "You were watching?" she asked him. "Good hits, all of them. Ready for a break?" Debra looked at Carter, who shrugged. They left the earphones at the booth and headed to the office. "Her brother taught her enough when she was a kid," said Carter. "All I had to do was bring it back for her in a larger caliber and she got fairly good real fast." Debra was silent and seemed thoughtful as they walked. Cade caught her glancing down at her hand flexing her fingers, but it didn't seem to be a motion intended to loosen or relax. Her hand closed into a fist. Coffee, a couple of donuts, and some time sitting down, then back to the range. Cade put his hollowpoint-filled magazine in the .45 to see if shooting them would feel any different and noticed no change in either handling or results. He fired off all but the rounds he'd set aside, put them in one of the empty boxes with the magazines, and trashed the other empty box on the way to the cleaning tables at Debra's end of the line. Strip-cleaning the .45 and the magazines while Carter showed Debra how to clean her revolver, Cade then reloaded the magazines and put one in the .45. Debra looked startled when he opened his belt, but relaxed when she saw him slide the magazine cases onto the belt as per instructions and check their fit. Cade decided that he could comfortably wear one extra clip in the back, but not both, so he tried them on the front and rear left side. Better. Easier to reach, too. "Do I have to wear mine in the back like that, too?" asked Debra. She looked uncomfortable with the idea. Cade lifted the corner of his field jacket and said, "A coat like mine covers it. What you usually wear wouldn't. Carter, did you show her how to

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shoot through a purse?" "Hell, no. I don't even know where I'd find a purse around here." "Let's rig up something and fake it, then. Old ammo boxes or some packing material; anything to cover the gun and her hand so she has to shoot from instinct. From the hip, at close targets. The kind of targets we'd likely encounter." After rooting around a bit, they came up with some cardboard and cut it to fit the circumstances. At twenty feet or less, Debra didn't miss much when she missed at all. She seemed to have a natural ability to point and put a bullet wherever she was looking. Carter was flatly amazed and said so. In fact, he said so often enough that Debra began to blush a bit and told him to stop talking about it. Each of them found a suitable shoulder holster rig for their weapons and Debra was also issued a belly holster for her .38 -- as Carter said -- on general principles, in case she ever wore a pair of jeans with a belt. She looked it over critically and declared that it faced the wrong way, mimicking hooking it onto a belt. "Uh, well, it goes _inside_ the pants," said Carter. "On the other side of the buckle, ma'am." "Inside? That sounds uncomfortable enough, and it won't get much use with me," said Debra. "I haven't worn anything but skirts for years. Do I really need it?" "Take it," said Cade. "You never know how things will go. It's time to see about homing devices, Carter." Like a salesman, Carter said, "Well, you're certainly in luck today, sir! I've got maybe six of the new ones left." Carter went to a drawer and came back with a small box. Each microtransmitter was about the size of quarter and twice as thick. Carter deftly slipped one into a plastic holder and stuck it on the side of the metal desk. "Magnetic," he said. "The antenna is in the holder and it stretches out about a foot. Inserting the transmitter into the holder activates it. Range is about five miles in the country. There are holders that look like lighters, cigarette cases, and jewelry, too, but for the most part, they look like cheap junk to me. Want to see some anyway?" His enthusiasm made Debra giggle slightly as she nodded. Carter opened the drawer to show them a range of personal items that had been modified to support the transmitters. Cade chose a good quality coat-pocket wallet. Debra chose a piece of jewelry -- a silvertone brooch -- that was shaped as a stylized seashell. She turned the brooch over in her hand. "It does look junky," she said. "Anyone seeing it would probably figure that's the reason I'm keeping it inside a pocket. If anyone asks, I'll just tell them that Cade gave it to me and that I didn't want to hurt his feelings by not taking it. All I have to do is put the disk in and pull the wire out?" "That's it," said Carter. "Can't wear it that way, but you'll figure out something." Ed took two more of the transmitters with the plastic holders and pocketed them. Carter raised an eyebrow in a questioning look, but said nothing. At the end of their visit with Carter, Debra signed for the .38 and found room for it and eighteen extra rounds in a small paper bag in her purse. Ed signed for his ammo and both had to sign yet again on a separate form for the shoulder holsters. Debra seemed thoughtful as they entered the elevator to go back up to John's floor. "Something wasn't said this morning, Ed. Two somethings, really." Cade looked at her and waited for her to continue, which she did. "The first unsaid something has to do with our being bait. We aren't bait. We're just the likeliest people to be grabbed, and if they can't find us, they'll just grab somebody else, right? So what's the point of all this if

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our side doesn't want to trade?" "They'll trade," said Cade. "They just want some time to pry some info out of the prisoner first. They'll stall as long as possible, then do the trade." Debra looked skeptical. "And if hostages are taken, who's in charge of deciding when to trade? Will they wait until they begin receiving fingers and ears?" Cade shrugged. "Couldn't say. Hope not. As far as I'm concerned, I'd prefer that the guy I shot died before any of this goes any further. Then there'd be no reason to take hostages or try to trade people." Nodding slightly, Debra said, "That would suit me fine, too." A few moments passed in silence before Debra said, "Here's the other unsaid something, Ed. They found my daughter. Sandy's dead. But you already knew that this morning, didn't you?" As the doors opened, Cade said, "I knew about it before you showed up this morning," and led the way out of the elevator. Debra stared after him for a moment, then followed. She caught up to him and grabbed his arm lightly. He turned to face her. "You could have said something," she said. "You could have said _something_..." Cade put a hand to her cheek and softly said, "I'm sorry, Debra. I really am, but I'm not very good with platitudes, so I don't use them at all." When he said nothing else, Debra's lips stiffened and she turned to continue her trek to John's office. Ed watched her march down the hall and didn't try to catch up with her. She'd only get as far as Gloria's desk, anyway. Debra entered John's office a dozen paces ahead of him and veered left, out of his line of sight, without a word to Gloria, who looked at Ed questioningly as he entered the anteroom. He gave her a slight, _'no comment'_ shake of his head as he approached her desk and glanced at Debra, who sat on the couch, gazing at the coffee table almost sullenly. Nodding toward John's door, Gloria said, "Give him a few minutes. He's on the phone. How did Ms. McAlister do downstairs?" "She did great. Carter gave her a .38 and some ammo and called her _'lovely lady'_ instead of _'dummy'_, if that tells you anything." "Oh, it does, indeed. He called me 'dummy' for a whole day, as I recall. She must have really impressed him." One of the lights on her phone went off and she added, "Okay, he's off the phone. I'll go see if he's ready for company." Ed waited by the desk as she tapped the intercom. John's voice said, "Send them in, Gloria. More coffee, too, please." Gloria turned to Ed with a smile and said, "That's me. GS-11 Step'nfetchit. Would you believe that some administrative assistants actually have to know how to type?" She sat down at her desk and opened one of the side drawers. "Well, damn," said Cade. "Really? Must be hell for them, huh?" "So I've heard," said Gloria, feeding a multi-part form into her IBM Selectric. "Wouldn't know. I was hired for my looks." Gloria's fingers flew furiously as she began filling out the subject section of the form. She was nearly twice as fast a typist as Cade, and he could do forty-five words per minute or thereabouts, thanks to a tenth-grade elective class that had seemed better than some of the alternatives that had been offered. Debra was on her feet. She approached with only a glance at Cade as he opened the door for her and then followed her into John's office. In his usual style, John simply assumed that he had their attention and began speaking. "Serve yourselves and get comfortable. We're waiting for a return call that will tell me where you're going and how we're going to handle things, but count on this, people; no matter what, you're both under orders to return in

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one piece. Got that?" "Yassah, boss," said Ed. "One piece. Got it. Any reason to leave the area, or do we head for the Kaiserstrasse house?" "Looks like Kaiserstrasse, so far. The bad guys may already know about it, too, which would make things easier for the 'crats who want to make a deal with them." "The 'crats?" asked Debra. "Bureaucrats," said John. "The damned dummies who don't seem to realize that this whole setup isn't necessary to either side." "Then why are we doing it?" Tossing his pen on his desk, John said, "Because they think they can get something useful from an unconscious guy on life support. Who knows? Maybe they could, but not for a few days, yet. If he lives that long." Debra's voice was cool as she said, "You don't seem to have much faith in your superiors." John laughed. "They outrank me, but only as politicians. That only means they know how to curry political favor with the current administration. It doesn't mean they know spit about running an op." "An op? As in 'operation'?" "As in. They've already blown any respect I might have had for them by calling you three participants _'bait'_ and blocking my efforts to send you to safety without notifying me. I may have to play it their way in general, but before I give up op control and send people into a situation without all the support I can manage, they'll have to put someone else behind this goddamned desk." Gloria had entered with coffee and snacks. She grinned at John and said, "They could do that, but then they'd need a new admin assistant, too. I worked for a politician once. That won't happen again. No offense, Ms. McAlister." Debra shook her head. "No offense taken, Gloria. I agree with John about who should be in charge of something like this. John, what if the other side doesn't want to play the game? What if they just say they'll start shooting people at random until we hand over their man?" John shook his head. "They have their fingers in many pies, Debra. They know that we'd start quietly severing those fingers somewhere around their shoulders if they step outside the usual rules of the game, and this office isn't bound by police procedures." Debra's eyes narrowed a bit at John's statement. "Are you saying that you'll just go hunting?" she asked. "No arrests, no trials?" John's gaze matched hers and he let a moment of silence stretch a bit before he answered her in a quiet tone of chastising annoyance. "No, I _didn't_ exactly say that, ma'am. I simply said that we operate by other procedures, and you won't ever ask me or any of my people a question like that again. Understood?" For a couple of seconds, Debra just looked at him, then she said, "Fine." "Thank you," said John, rising from his chair. "You'll receive a more in-depth briefing and see some mug shots of people from the other side of this issue when you get back from lunch. See Gloria about it then. This meeting is adjourned." -------*Chapter Fourteen* As they waited for the elevator, Debra said, "Touchy, wasn't he?" "Yup," said Cade. "A word of advice, Debra. Around here, we _infer_ a lot. Some of the things we have to do are strictly off the record. Another thing; John almost lost his son, so he can share your loss of a child. That's partly why DEA or some other outfit isn't handling this situation." Debra gave him a wry look and asked, "Just that? It wouldn't also have anything to do with your having shot that man or your encounter with Thomas

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Steele, would it?" The elevator doors opened and they entered before Ed replied, "You need to know something right now, Debra. My outfit wouldn't even be involved in what's expected to happen if John hadn't argued with probably half a dozen people to keep you under his umbrella. He really wants to help you." "But..." "No buts. Steele tried a little private-enterprise blackmail without knowing all the facts. He was busted for roughing you up and having drugs in his car. His pal, the guy I shot, was acting without orders, as far as anyone knows at the moment. Steele's just a nobody pusher at the bottom of his ladder, but the other guy could leak some serious info. I'm seen as just another kind of covert cop, of questionable value as a trade, but everybody seems to see you as a viable bargaining tool." The doors opened on the fourth floor and Ed led the way to the cafeteria. As they walked, Debra asked, "They'd think that you'd be considered expendable? Is that why they wouldn't bother with you?" "That's probably how they'd see me, yes." Debra didn't say anything more for a while as they chose from the rather limited weekend selection and took their trays to a table. She seemed thoughtful as she picked her way through a salisbury steak with green beans, finishing only half of the plate before pushing it away. When she looked up, Ed said, "Your figure is wonderful. Eat your lunch and don't worry about it." Debra shook her head and said, "Well, thanks for the kind words, but I don't seem to be as hungry as I thought." Cade nodded and continued slicing his steak, aware that Debra was watching him. Some moments passed before she quietly said, "It must be lovely not to feel anything about what happens to other people." Ed stopped slicing and sighed as he looked at her. "I have the standard-issue set of feelings, Debra. Lots of things reach me. You reached me, if that's what you're wondering, but I don't assign too much priority to things that I can't fix or control. Some stuff I just duck when it comes my way." He continued cutting his steak. Debra watched him for a moment, then put her hands together on the table and seemed lost in thought as she stared at them. Cade had nearly finished his meal when she spoke again. "I need to call her father. I tried to reach him last night and this morning and couldn't." "See Gloria about that when we get back. She can have someone track him down if necessary." She nodded. "Okay." There was another lengthy silence until Ed pushed his chair back and said, "May as well head back, then." When they returned to John's office, a man named Sammler was waiting for them. He introduced himself and took them to an adjoining office, where he conducted them through an hourlong slide show and the pages of a large photo album. "Obviously," he said for Debra's benefit, "We can't expect you to remember the faces and descriptions of all these people, but if you see one of them, he or she may seem familiar to you and set off your internal alarms." Debra gave him an incredulous look and said, "Are you kidding? We've just seen almost two hundred pictures. We'll be lucky if ten of them stick with us well enough to spot someone from this pile." Sammler smiled and said, "You'd be surprised at what people can remember, ma'am. That's why we give these little shows. Just take another good look at each one, then we'll move on." After another session with the pictures, they took a break for coffee. For the first time since lunch, Debra addressed Cade.

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"Why the hell are we doing this? So what if we do spot one of these people? Are we supposed to put up a fight or let ourselves be taken?" "We're still waiting for word on that," said Cade. "Someone has to make contact and begin negotiations concerning the guy in the hospital. Here in Germany, just like in the States, he can be held for investigation for seventy-two hours without charges being filed, so they'll lean on that trick first. If he wakes up, they'll probably offer him limited immunity in exchange for testimony and offer him attempted murder and other charges if he doesn't take their deal." Debra looked confused. "Say he takes the deal. What then?" "Then our side tries to keep him in one live piece until he goes to court, which could be a while. The other side will try to shut him up by leaning on his family and friends, if he has any. Our people seem to think that won't have much effect and that more extreme methods will come into play pretty much immediately." "But if -- as you said -- doing anything to us will start some kind of purge, why would they risk it?" Cade shrugged. "Could be that what this guy knows would be too damaging to top people. Could also be that our side is trying to spook their side into making a move that will guarantee the purge. That's what happened in Italy. A judge in one town was fed up with things and set up a play. The cops arrested a guy on suspicion only, kept him under wraps for a while, then leaked to the press that the guy had taken their deal. Someone tried to kill him and got caught, so they were able to slap real charges on someone and use them to open a brand new line of investigation. After his own people tried to hit him, the first guy started talking and took the deal after all. The judge managed to clean up the town within a couple of years and other cities and towns started doing the same. Then one day they started kidnapping and killing judges. In some places, that just made everybody more determined to get the bad guys. In other places, the investigations seemed to stop cold and not start up again." For a long few moments, Debra was silent, then she asked, "So what about us? What are we supposed to do if they try to take us?" Cade shook his head, grinned, and said, "Well, gee, lady ... I guess we ought to shoot at them, don't you think? They are the bad guys, after all." Sammler snickered and received a glare from Debra. He assumed an expression of innocence and pretended to busy himself with the projector. "I _mean_," she said, "That I'm getting conflicting signals here. First I'm blocked from leaving the area by my own government, but then I'm issued a gun by the same government." "No mystery to it," said Ed. "The 'crats are setting you up as bait, but you'd play hell finding anyone to acknowledge having done it. Everybody will just swear that they didn't know why they were being ordered to keep you in-country and point at someone else, who will say the same thing. Everybody will agree that the whole thing was the result of an unfortunate miscommunication or something and have their secretaries draft apologetic letters for the public files." Debra stood and paced briefly, then said, "I can't believe that, Ed. I can't believe that our government would allow a US citizen to be used in this..." Sammler's short bark of laughter interrupted her and she shot a glare at him. "Sorry," he said with a grin. "You caught me off guard, there. Go ahead, please." "No, don't go ahead," said Ed. "The fact is, Debra, that this sort of thing happens all the time in ways that go unreported. Whistleblowers are set up so they can be forced out. Plant drugs on someone's kid and bust him with a threat of prison in a foreign country. The problem goes away instantly. This is different, but much the same. You're being dangled as bait. As soon as someone tries to take the bait, someone else has a plausible excuse to retaliate."

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"_Tries_ to take the bait? What if they succeed?" "Then you become a martyr of sorts for having provided an opening, and with much wringing of hands and wailing and gnashing of teeth, the 'crats will wave the flags of righteous outrage and send vast herds of cops after the bad guys." Debra shook her head furiously and shouted, "No! No, no, no! They can't do this to me! It's illegal! It's immoral! _We_ don't do things like this!" Gloria entered the room and said, "Yes, _we_ do, and please keep the noise down in here. Ed, John was just given a _'hands off'_ order. He wants to see you. Now." Debra stared at her, then at Cade, and asked, "What the hell does that mean?" Cade stood up with a sigh and said, "It probably means that I'm still on leave whether I like it or not. Let's go." In John's office, he didn't even wait until they were seated to begin speaking. "I've been _ordered_," he said, "To disengage my offices from this situation, and this situation officially doesn't exist and won't officially exist unless someone tries something. Ed, you're still on leave..." Cade glanced at Debra and said, "Told you, didn't I?" "..._But,_" said John, "I'd _unofficially_ appreciate it if you'd continue assisting Ms. McAlister." "Sure," said Ed with a wry grin. "No problem. I can go to Monaco some other year." "Why?" asked Debra. "If they can order you to stand down, you're part of the machine, John. Why are you going against orders?" "I'm not. When you two leave these offices, I _officially_ become thoroughly ignorant. If Ed's on leave, his whereabouts are none of my business unless there's trouble. If there's trouble involving one of my people, I'll be able to _officially_ get us back in the game at that time." Turning to Ed, he said, "And if there isn't any trouble, have a good vacation and we'll call you when it's time to come back to work." Debra said, "That flimsy piece of planning doesn't answer my question, John. I want to know _why_ you're doing this." John sat very still for a few moments, then stood up and asked Ed to give him some time alone with Debra. Ed nodded, got up, and headed for the door as John reached for his wallet. Gloria seemed mildly surprised to see Cade come out alone and close the door behind him. "She asked why," said Ed. "By now, she's looking at a picture of his son." Gloria nodded. Ed took a seat and picked up a magazine. "Let me know if you need anything," said Gloria. He shook his head. "I know where the coffee is and you're busy. You know, if you were _my_ secretary, I'd overpay you and have you just sit there and decorate my office all day. You wouldn't have to pound a typewriter or haul coffee or anything." Gloria grinned and said, "Well, then, please do call me when you have an office of your own. By then I may have had enough of this zoo. How's she holding up?" "No idea, really. She seems together enough, but that may only be because she isn't quite hysterical about all this crap." "Carter really passed her with the .38?" "He really did, Gloria, and it wasn't because of her looks. She was hitting her targets. I think he was impressed." Gloria laughed. "I _know_ he was impressed. I just wasn't sure whether it was because of her face, her other anatomy, or her ability with a gun." "Probably all three." Over the next half hour or so, Cade and Gloria chatted as she worked and he scanned magazines. When the door to John's office opened, Debra came out alone. She seemed slightly disoriented and she'd been crying. Without a

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word, she walked out of the office and down the hall. Cade saw her enter the ladies' room. John called, "Ed, come in here, will you?" As he entered the office, Ed could see that John, too, had shed some tears. A picture of his son was on the corner of the desk. Cade picked it up and handed it to John, who nodded thanks and gazed at it for a moment before putting it in his wallet. "Well, now she knows why," sighed John. Ed made no reply to that as he took a seat by the desk. John hitched forward to put his wallet back and then sipped his coffee with slightly shaky hands. "Ed, I want you to stick to her like a wet shirt. Take her somewhere for a while, if you think you can get past the watchers. Somewhere hard to find. Find a way to keep her clear of all this. I'm giving you five thousand from petty cash. If you need more later, let me know without using the usual drops." He tapped his phone intercom and said, "Gloria." Gloria replied, "Speaking." "See that Ed gets five grand expense money before he leaves, please. Pull it from petty cash, not the agency accounts." "Will do. Anything else?" "Nope. Thanks, Gloria. You take good care of us around here." "I surely do, don't I? Write that down and put a copy in my file so I have something to show you at promotion time. Bye for now." John grinned as he tapped the _off_ button. "Ed, that woman passed through four other offices in one year before she got here. They didn't want her. You know why?" "Because she has too strong a sense of humor and a personality?" "Damned right, and a spine, too. She ran this place for a week while I was in the hospital in June, and she didn't call me for anything less than a command decision." Cade thought a moment. "Linda wasn't here?" "She was in Nairobi to make a deal with Solutions for info on Idi Amin." "Amin? I thought he was in Uganda." "He is. Kenya and Uganda share a border. About Debra, Ed ... You're going to be together for a while. Do you think you can bend a little and let her borrow a shoulder if she needs one?" Ed sighed and said, "Maybe after we're settled somewhere, John. As I see it, she can grieve later, when it's safe to do so and won't distract us from things like survival, and that's not meant as macho crap. You've issued her a gun and me, and you're circumventing authority to accomplish that much. You're worried about us." John nodded slightly and said, "Yeah, I'm worried. Just try to take it easy with her and be understanding if she needs that shoulder, okay?" "Yeah. Okay. I'll try. It isn't really my best talent, but I'll see what I can do. John, everything about you is telling me that there's something you haven't told me. What is it?" -------*Chapter Fifteen* After a moment of silence, John reached in his shirt pocket for a pack of cigarettes and said, "Karl Teffler. What do you know about him?" "I've seen his picture. Five-ten or so, blonde hair, blue eyes. Everybody's looking for him because he has ties to the Red Guard and others." As he lit his cigarette, John said, "They think he's been involved in some kidnappings, too. There's a good chance he'll get into this." "I thought he was only into political stuff, John. What's going to bring him down here to Podunksville, Germany?" John sighed and said, "The guy you shot is also named Teffler. A cousin from Darmstadt. I just found out an hour ago."

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"Well, damn," Cade said in a quiet tone. He stood up and went to the coffee urn for a refill. "Is the whole family into this kind of crap? How big a chance are we talking about, here, John? He prefers to work with a team, doesn't he?" "He does. Three, sometimes four in the group altogether, as far as we know. I tried to get a copy of the agency's file on him. Refused. Then I said I'd be willing to go over there for a look at it, but I was told that it was temporarily unavailable; that someone had pulled it for study, but I don't quite believe that." Ed shook his head. "Nope. Anyone big enough to pull that file would also rate a copy of it. Do we have anything in-house on him?" "No. He's not one of our usual concerns. I've called a friend who may be able to pull something up through the wire services. Ten year old pictures and some news clippings may be all we get, but that's better than nothing. She can't get the stuff until Monday, though, so how do we get it to you?" "Someone will call your private office line and ask for Steve at extension 1820. That number is the address of a restaurant on Ludwigstrasse." "Got it. Male or female caller?" "Don't know yet. If you don't have the stuff when you get the call, just say that Steve isn't in the office. If you do have the stuff, suggest another extension number that will be a time to meet at the restaurant. Do you think the file stuff will fit inside a Stars and Stripes newspaper?" "The essentials would. What contact number will you use?" "Things should add up to sixty." John nodded and repeated, "Sixty. Good enough, then. We can play everything else by ear. On another note ... I didn't tell Debra about Teffler. Expect trouble with her as she works through everything that's happened -- and is happening -- to her. She may become less cooperative as depression, anger, and skepticism set in over the next couple of days. It might be good to save the Teffler info as a means of reinforcing her willingness to keep her cool and stay out of sight." John stubbed his cigarette out in the big glass ashtray on his desk and slid a set of car keys across the desk to Cade. "That's about it. I'll run an ad in the London Times when it's safe to come back. _'Dragonfly, please call home'_ or something like that. Use your Ford to go pack for the trip, then come back here and get the blue BMW in slot 22. The registration is in the glove box. You ready to get underway?" Cade shrugged and said, "Guess so," as he stood up. John also stood up, and after a quick handshake he headed for the door. Gloria heard the door open behind her and wordlessly held up an envelope while taking notes in the midst of a phone call. John took the envelope and glanced inside it, then handed it to Ed as Debra approached them. "What now?" she asked. "Now we hit the road," said Cade, "But first, I need to call my landlady before she leaves to do her shopping and you need to call your office. You're taking some time off, beginning immediately." "I can't swing more than a week's leave without giving more notice than this." John said, "Tell them a week and we'll fix things later if the situation calls for more." Debra faced him with a droll expression and crossed her arms before she asked, "Rules, John. Rules. Just how do you think you'll _fix_ something like that? How are you going to get the director to go along with it?" John gave Cade an _'I told you so'_ look and said, "Because everybody has something to hide, Debra. Everydamnedbody on the face of this Earth over the age of twelve has a secret of some sort, and if they work for the government, some government agency probably already knows what that secret is." Debra rankled at that. "You'd threaten somebody with blackmail?" With a tone of finality, John said, "To keep you two out of harm's way,

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yes. Now, people, if there's nothing else, it's my turn to go to lunch." With a look of consternation on her face, Debra watched John leave the office. When she turned to Ed, he opened the envelope enough to show her the money inside, then put it in his coat pocket. Gloria turned her desk phone around. Ed used the phone first to tell his landlady that he might be out of town for a week or more and that she should use the perishable items in his fridge before they spoiled. That comment got him an odd look from Debra, which pulled a giggle from Gloria. Mama Gestner said, "Ach. I knew it. You remember what I said, Herr Cade. Be very careful. You are not ready for a family." "Yeah, I promise, Mama Gestner. I'll be careful." "Don't disappoint me, Herr Cade. Is there anything else?" "No, Mama Gestner. Gloria will get the rent to you if I'm not back by then." As he hung up the phone, Gloria giggled again and said, "Yes, Mama Gestner. No, Mama Gestner. I _promise_, Mama Gestner." Debra snickered and stood grinning at him. Cade pointed a finger at Gloria. "She thinks I'm going somewhere with _you_. My instructions are to avoid knocking you up because I'm not ready for a family. In her opinion, of course." Gloria laughed and said, "She doesn't know?" "Nope. Never had reason to tell her, and I doubt she'd approve, anyway." Debra asked, "Tell her what? Approve of what?" Gloria shook her head and said, "If I were a man and I'd had a vasectomy, I damned sure wouldn't keep it a secret in a place where there's a military base on every other hilltop and every one of them has a barracks full of single women." For a moment, Debra stared at Cade and said nothing, then, "I didn't believe you before, Ed. You really did that to yourself?" Cade sighed and said, "Well, no, actually. I'm not into self-surgery, ma'am. I let a doctor do it." Gloria's short laugh gained her a sharp glance from Debra. "You don't think that was a rather extreme thing to do, Ed?" "Not when compared to the alternative. Now, make your call and let's go, Debra. We still have to pack." As she reached for the phone, Debra asked, "Where are we going?" All she received as an answer was a flat stare and silence. Gloria gave her an incredulous look and said, "Well, now, knowing Ed, I'd say you'll be going somewhere safe. Probably even someplace comfortable." Then, with a small grin, she said, "You're kinda new at this, so I'll give you a tip. Don't ask questions like that while you're holding a telephone just before going into hiding." Debra's involuntary glance at the phone turned into a scowl as she punched the numbers. Someone answered on the first ring. Cade parked against the corner of Gloria's desk to listen to Debra's side of the ensuing conversation. "Mrs. Costen? This is Debra McAlister," said Debra. "Is Stewart there? I need to talk to him." After almost two minutes, she said, "Hello, Stewart. Yes, I'm fine, but I need some time off." Looking at Ed, she said, "About a week, unless something else happens. Listen, Stewart ... A woman named Linda will be by to see you on Monday. She's acting on my behalf concerning ... Uhm, concerning Sandy. Yes, they found her." Stewart's enthusiastic outburst was audible to everyone in the room as Debra held the phone away from her ear. Her hands trembled and tears were welling in her eyes. "That's great, Deb! How is she? _Where_ is she?" Debra seemed not to know what to do with the phone. She simply stared

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at the receiver for a couple of moments, then handed it to Gloria and rushed out of the office. Gloria wasted no time handing the phone to Cade as she quickly rose to follow Debra. Stewart asked, "Deb? Deb, are you still there?" Cade sighed and said, "Mr. Costen, this is Ed Cade. Debra's daughter is dead. She was found in Amsterdam." "Oh, my God..." mumbled Costen "Cade? She mentioned you. You're the guy ... Where's Debra?" "Probably in the ladies' room. She had to stop talking. About Linda..." Stewart interrupted, "The woman Deb's sending by? What about her?" "She has full authority to act on Debra's behalf and has papers to prove it. Sandy will remain at the Landstuhl morgue until Debra returns." Costen sounded incredulous. "Returns from _where?_ Why is she going anywhere? How can she leave with her daughter..." Ed broke into Costen's tirade with, "Just a minute, please. I'll put my boss on the phone. Hang on, Mr. Costen." With his hand gripping the receiver to cover the mouthpiece, he tapped on John's door and received a "Yes?" before he opened it. "John, I don't know how this phone system works and I don't want to lose the call by trying to transfer it to your office. He's Debra's boss, I think. Stewart Costen." John picked up his receiver and punched a button, then put his hand over the mouthpiece and quietly said, "Okay, you can hang it up. I've got him." Cade heard, "Hello, Mr. Costen," as he closed the door. He hung up the phone and sighed once before looking around for his coffee cup. It was still in John's office. Ed went to the corner alcove, stepped behind the folding screen that hid the coffee pot, and poured some in a new cup. Ten minutes or so passed until Gloria returned alone. Her eyes showed that she'd been crying and her hands shook a bit as she sat down. "What did you do with Mr. Costen, Ed?" "He was getting tense, so I handed him off to John. How's Debra?" With a sharp look, Gloria asked, "How do you _think_ she is?" then she shook her head, rested her face in her palms, and said softly, "Ah, hell. I didn't mean to snap at you. She's putting herself back together. Give her a few minutes." "No hurry," said Cade. After a pause, he added, "I have to keep myself at a distance, Gloria. You know that. Don't fault me because I can." Gloria nodded tersely without uncovering her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I know. A job to do and all that. Don't mind me." Cade walked over to pull a couple of fingers away from her right eye and looked into it as he said, "But I do mind you, Gloria. You're one of the very few people who really matter to me." He let the fingers go, but they didn't move back to their former eye-covering position. Gloria moved her face upward to look at him as her fingertips covered her mouth, then took her hands away from her face altogether and sat back in her chair. "You really mean that, Ed? Do you have any idea how surprising that is to me?" Cade gave her a blank look and a shrug. "Guess not. Why does it surprise you?" She shook her head again. "It just does. You barely know me. You've stopped to chat a few times and breezed past me other times. You've never even made a serious pass at me in almost two years. I thought we were just friendly acquaintances who happen to work for the same agency." "We are. We do. But why shouldn't what you think of me matter to me? A woman like you..." "Wait, Ed. Hold it. Stop. What exactly do you mean by, _'a woman like me'_?" Ed sat down in the chair by the desk and said, "You're sharp, Gloria.

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You're good looking and you're smart enough to run this office alone while John was hospitalized, as well as acting as your own secretary and assistant in the process. You're a woman who can command and receive respect from most of the brass-hatted jerks you have to deal with in this job, too. You can figure out when to stand firm and when to bend a bit in order to keep people cooperative. John trusts you and thinks the world of you, and he's no dummy about people. Need more?" Gloria simply stared at him as she said, "Uh, no. I think I've got the picture." Cade smiled at her, then picked up his cup and went to the couch. Gloria was still staring at him as he sat down, but once he was seated, she busied herself with papers on her desk. Her blush was visible from her hairline to her collar. At that moment, Debra walked back into the office. She looked from Gloria to Ed and back again as her stride faltered and she stopped a few feet from the desk. "Did I just barely miss something?" Ed said, "I just told her what I thought of her." Debra's expression became one of concern. Her low tone was menacing. "What did he say to you, Gloria? There's a limit to how much _crap_..." Gloria giggled and waved her hands frantically. "_No!_ No. It wasn't like that." When Debra glanced at Cade, he said, "Yeah, it coulda been worse, I guess." That made Gloria giggle again. Her blush returned to her face and shoulders and she put her hands to her face as she nodded. "Oh, no. Don't say anymore, please. I'm about to break out laughing." Debra seemed to relax somewhat as she stepped closer. She looked down at Gloria for a moment, then at Ed. "It was complimentary," said Cade. "I can guess," said Debra, with a glance at Gloria's chest. Gloria gave a short bark of laughter. "No, I don't think you can, Debra. It certainly _wasn't_ what I was expecting to hear, I can tell you that." She got up, stepped around her desk, said, "Will you excuse me for a minute?" and walked quickly to the door. Debra gave Ed a puzzled look. He attempted an expression of innocence that caused her to sigh in exasperation, then she turned to follow Gloria. "No, don't go with her," said Ed, moving to accompany her. "She'll be fine, but we have to get going. First your place, then mine. It's time to pack. Bring your skis if you have any." "I don't ski." "Ah, too bad. Well, maybe you'll learn how this week." -------*Chapter Sixteen* It took Debra less than an hour to pack. He suggested that she wear somewhat tougher clothing for travelling and she changed into slacks and a blouse and her hiking shoes. As Cade loaded her bags into the car, she sat in the passenger seat, thoughtfully staring at the house. As he started the car he said, "You aren't leaving forever, you know." Debra McAlister straightened in her seat and said, "Yes, I am. When we get back here, I'm taking a room at a hotel until I can get another place. I won't be back inside this house any longer than it takes to box everything up and send it home." "You sure that's necessary? Housing like this can be hard to find. You could be in that hotel for a few months until somebody rotates back to the States." She didn't answer. When he glanced over at her, Debra gave him a determined gaze and shook her head slightly. "No," she said. "Without Sandy ... Well, it's just too big, now."

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A few minutes later he parked the Ford in the lot across the street from his own home and took a minute to look around, but there were no unusual people or cars in the vicinity. Even the two MP's seemed to be missing, which Ed took as a bad sign. They'd thought he was worth watching before, even though Steele had been arrested. Those MP's, or others like them, would have had no reason to forget about him unless someone had told them to do so. If they'd decided to use more circumspect methods and personnel, there had to be a reason. If they'd been pulled and actually weren't following him anymore, the same reason might apply. "Are we going to get out of the car?" asked Debra. He nodded, but didn't immediately reach for the door handle as he looked around. "I was just noticing that I didn't have my usual MP tail, miLady. I think that means that the powers that be are already keeping their distance." Debra gave him a quizzical look and asked, "Which means...?" "It means that the hunt is on, that's all. You set your trap's bait and then you get far enough away or well enough hidden that the prey doesn't spot you." "They're probably just watching from a distance, then, ready to move in if there's trouble." "Ah ... Yeah. Something like that." "You don't seem to have much faith, Ed." "You got it. If people in ski masks try to snatch us in the open, sure they'll move. It would be a public event, and they'd be on record as observers. But if we find ourselves being confronted by fairly normal-looking people who aren't on the watch lists, the watchers may not realize right away that something's happening." As he opened the door, he said, "And all of that assumes that we aren't actually supposed to be taken. If you want to pry open a box of guaranteed cooperation for an all-out investigative binge, you need leverage. Hostages and martyrs make good leverage. So does lots of strident media coverage." Debra got out and stood by the car. "Don't use the word 'martyr', please. Most of the people who have earned that title are dead." "You can't ignore the possibility. Hostages produce strong but cautious cooperation. Martyrs produce immediate, all-out cooperation." She shook her head as she closed the car door. "Yes, I _can_ ignore that possibility. I have a hard enough time believing that we could be used that way, and being a hostage would be bad enough." He led the way across the street. Debra looked up at an odd sound and saw a Siamese cat plastering itself to the window and yowling as they approached the door. "That's Bugglebeast," said Ed. Debra giggled. "_Who_-beast?" "Bugglebeast. You'll meet him." Once they were inside, he opened Frau Gestner's hallway door slightly. Bugglebeast zipped out as soon as the opening was barely wide enough and stood at Ed's feet, sounding off as Siamese cats do. Ed reached down to pick him up. Bugglebeast draped himself over Ed's shoulder and yelled at Debra. "Pet the poor little kitty and maybe he'll shut up," said Cade. "He's lying to us, anyway. He isn't starving and Mama Gestner hasn't left him all alone for a week." Debra giggled again as she reached up to ruffle Bugglebeast's ears. He didn't stop sounding off, but the tone of it became more conversational than strident. "Okay," said Ed, "All better now, or enough so that we can go upstairs." Once they were inside his apartment, he disengaged Bugglebeast and set

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him on one of the dining chairs, then put some coffee on. "Why are you doing that?" asked Debra. "I thought we were in kind of a hurry." "Only a moderate hurry. What we don't drink, Frau Gestner will." After putting the coffee on, he packed two suitcases and set them by the door, then took a mug of coffee to the couch and spent some time with Bugglebeast. Debra watched, mostly, but Bugglebeast would periodically walk across the coffee table to get some attention from her, as well. "Must be nice," said Debra. "To have such an uncomplicated life, I mean." "Who? Me or Bugglebeast?" "I was referring to the cat, but if you really didn't know, maybe I was being too specific. Compared to mine, your life doesn't seem too complicated, either." Ed smiled. "There have been a few complications now and then. I haven't managed to get by scot-free." "Oh? How so?" "The usual stuff. For instance, like yours, my first marriage didn't work out, either. That sort of thing seems to be pretty common these days." She nodded somberly. "Very common. You skipped a lot of other things, though. No kids, for example. If ever you want complications..." To try to head off her mood, he laughed and said, "Too late for that and I'm not about to adopt any. I'm too selfish, ma'am." "You do well enough with cats, apparently." "Always have. They seem to know an easy mark when they see one. Well, he's had his visit. Time to put him back in his Mama's kitchen and hit the road." Debra picked up their coffee cups to take them to the kitchen and said, "I was kind of wondering why we've stayed here so long, Ed." "Garmisch isn't going to disappear." His response made her stop and turn to look at him. He smiled and continued through the doorway with Bugglebeast. After a moment, Debra continued to the sink to wash the cups and turn off the coffee pot. When Cade returned, he picked up his two suitcases and they headed to the car. Rather than set the cases in the snow, he let Debra get the keys from his coat pocket. As he waited for her to open the trunk, he looked around again. Still no MP's and no other signs of being observed. "Are we really going to Garmisch?" she asked. "Got a better idea? Oh, how about grabbing that map bag, there? Open it and see if there's still a paperback book inside." As she reached for the black map bag on her side of the trunk, Ed opened a suitcase and retrieved a pair of green license plates, which he slipped into the map bag as soon as Debra had opened it. Debra's glance into the suitcase spotted a pair of white, oval tourist plates, as well. Pulling the paperback out of the map bag, he showed it to her with a grin and said, "Heinlein. I like some of this guy's stuff." He then put the book back in the bag. Debra eyed the green license plates next to it without comment until he'd zipped the bag shut. "Now," said Cade, shutting the trunk lid, "That should be about everything. We'll go fill up the tank at the office garage, see what John wanted us to do upstairs before we leave, and then hit the road." Debra looked at him oddly as she got in the car, but she took the cue without asking what John might have wanted them to do. When they arrived at the office building, he again drove into the underground garage and parked the Ford next to the blue BMW in slot 22. As he transferred luggage from the Ford to the BMW, an OD green Army van rolled in and parked behind them. What followed was a silent exchange of hand signals between Cade and the van driver, after which Ed handed the van driver the BMW keys and led Debra to the windowless van's side door. The driver opened the rear doors and unloaded two big boxes each of paper towels

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and toilet tissue, then shut the doors. Putting a finger to her lips and one to his own, Cade shook his head slightly and held out a hand to help her step aboard the van. She gave him a quick _'what the hell's going on?'_ look, but took his hand stepped into the van. The driver immediately put the van in gear and headed for the garage exit. Ed pulled Debra to the far back of the van to hunker behind the remaining large boxes. Several minutes passed before the driver spoke. "Okay. We're out of town." "Thanks, Vinnie," said Cade, as he helped Debra slither back around the boxes to the middle of the van. "We can talk now, Debra, but don't use the seats." "Okay," said Debra, sitting on one of the blankets on the floor. "What the hell's going on, Ed? I thought we were going to see John before we left." "Just adding a layer of smoke," he said. "Vinnie delivers for the commissary system. John asked him to pick us up. Gloria will drive the BMW to Miesenbach and pick up another car for us. We'll be meeting her in a little while." Shifting her butt with discomfort, Debra asked, "Isn't all this a bit much?" "If we thought so, we wouldn't be doing it, would we?" Her look displayed her doubt, but she said nothing about it. Instead, she asked, "Then what?" "Tell you later. Vinnie doesn't need to know that," said Cade. "Sorry, Vinnie." "No sweat, Sarge," said Vinnie. "Nobody tells me anything, anyway. That's the biz." "Sarge?" asked Debra. "It was another place and time," said Cade. "Sure as hell was," said Vinnie. "And it was nothing like Germany, I can tell you. I got another stop to make on the way, Sarge. The Kindsbach Cave." "No problem, Vinnie." "The what?" asked Debra. "It's an underground facility between Vogelweh and Landstuhl," said Vinnie. "They watch for, uh, unauthorized air traffic and like that." Debra looked at Ed questioningly. "Missiles," said Ed. "They watch for anything that doesn't belong in the sky." The van slowed, then turned off the highway. Debra peeked over the front seats and saw a massive entrance to what looked like an underground bunker. Concrete barricades stood in staggered columns between them and the huge steel doors. "We won't be going in," said Vinnie. "I just drop the stuff at the gate. Stay down or we'll have to think up some reason for me having two civilians in my van." He stopped the van and got out, yelling a greeting to the guards. Ed and Debra heard the rear doors open and the scuffle and thump of boxes being unloaded, then Vinnie got back in the van and headed them back toward the highway. "That was all there was to it," said Vinnie. "I just set the stuff on the sidewalk for 'em. Unless it's raining, of course. Then I back up to the doors so the roof covers us." Several minutes later the van headed up a steep hill. "Next stop, Landstuhl," said Vinnie, looking back at them in the rearview mirror. "I'm supposed to let you out behind the hospital. Guess you probably want me to slow down or even stop for that, huh, Sarge?" "Might be nice," said Cade with a grin. "Yes," said Debra. "It would." Vinnie backed up to the hospital's loading dock and hopped out of the

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van with his clipboard at the ready. After looking around as if for someone to receive supplies, he shrugged and opened the back doors of the van. Stacking boxes according to contents, he formed a low wall three boxes tall on the exposed side of the loading dock. "Okay, all set," he muttered. Cade and McAlister crouchingly left the van and scurried into the building, getting well beyond the door and to one side of it before standing up. Vinnie stood on the dock, scribbling something on his clipboard for a moment, then closed the van doors and also headed inside the building. "Over here," said a familiar voice. "I'm on the phone." They turned to see Gloria standing by the door to an office and moved to join her. "Okay," said Gloria. "Yeah, it's all set. Gotta go. See you later." She hung up the phone and called Vinnie to join them as she pulled a hundred-dollar bill out of her jacket pocket. "Thanks, Vinnie. Here's something for helping out." Vinnie glanced at Cade in what seemed to be genuine startlement. "Ma'am, I just did it to help out. I don't need no money for it." Gloria said, "Vinnie, take the money. We know why you did it and we're grateful for the help, but you took a chance and we'd have had to find another way without you." "But..." "No buts, Vinnie," she said, stuffing the bill in his shirt pocket. "You just brought your wife over here, so your money has to be tight. Have a dinner and a night out on us. A favor for a favor, okay?" Vinnie seemed speechless for a moment, then nodded and said, "Yeah. Okay. You're right, ma'am, the money is tight right now. Thanks." They shook hands, then Vinnie left the room with another look at Cade, who grinned and gave Vinnie a sloppy salute. -------*Chapter Seventeen* Gloria closed the door, then walked back to the desk and sat down, gesturing Debra and Cade to the other chairs nearby. "Make yourselves comfortable," she said. "I took the weekend off. Signed out Friday at five-twenty, according to the office log." Debra seemed slightly confused. "I thought we were on our way to Garmisch." "You were," said Gloria. "You may still be, but you're staying here on base tonight and maybe tomorrow. We want to see if word of your present location gets out. If it does, there are only a few people who could know you're here, so capping a leak will be that much easier." "You think someone in your organization...?" "It never hurts to try to be sure, does it? A couple of governments are interested in using you to draw out some baddies. Those protecting you are also in government service. I don't know about you, but I don't trust government employees any farther than I can throw one. Except maybe John and Ed, of course. In this matter, at this moment." With a grin at Cade, Gloria added, "At least, while I can see him." Cade grinned back and said, "Oh, gosh, thanks so much, ma'am. That's quite a departure from your usual skepticism. I feel positively flattered. I think. Sort of." Gloria laughed and said, "As you should. Anyway, you'll check into the BOQ as Bob and Carol Wilson. If all goes well, you'll move on in a day or so." In the staging area beyond the office, the loading dock door closed with a rumbling of rollers and a loud bang that made Debra almost jump to her feet. She composed herself with a tinge of embarrassment, then stared at Gloria briefly before quietly asking, "How might things not go well, Gloria?" Gloria gave her a flat gaze for a moment, then rather patronizingly said, "Oh. Well. If anyone shows up around here looking for you, for instance."

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Ed said, "I think she was trying to find out how bad you think..." Debra hadn't taken Gloria's tone well. She put a hand on Cade's arm to quiet him and addressed Gloria in a similarly condescending tone. "Oh, let's look just a little bit beyond that, Gloria. We're on a US base here, yet you're concerned enough that something might happen that you felt the need to be here, isn't that right? Wouldn't that seem to mean that you think things could become more severe than someone simply dropping by, asking about us?" Before Gloria could answer, Debra continued with saccharine sweetness, "By the way, you didn't just drive right through the front gate, did you? I was last seen in your offices, so someone with half a brain might realize that following you might lead them to me. It's just a thought, you know." The two women glared at each other for some moments before Ed said, "Well, damn. If you ladies are gonna start swingin' at each other, let me clear some of the furniture and my own little self out of the way first, okay?" In an ominous tone, Gloria said, "Stuff your cute little country-boy comments, Ed. If she really wants to know how bad things can get, I'll damned well tell her just to head off any more inane questions like her last one." To Debra, she said, "Karl Teffler and his group wouldn't give a rat's ass about this being a US base, McAlister. They'd cough up some revolutionary rhetoric, declare themselves heroes of the oppressed masses, and drag your ass away. The people who want to let you be taken as an excuse to react would gleefully add an invasion of a US base to their list of reasons to act against the bad guys. They'd love it, probably. It would guarantee them support for a virtual carte blanche to turn the dogs loose." "But..." "But nothing, Debra. This isn't about runaway daughters or small-time drug dealers any more, and this base is just a hospital complex with a small complement of MP's to keep the peace. If it became known that you were here, they'd be told to detain you for questioning in the ongoing drug-and-murder case involving your own daughter. Because you're a civilian and the case is civilian, they'd eventually have to hand you over to German cops for a trip to Kaiserslautern. Chances are real damned good that you and the cops wouldn't make it to K-town, Debra." Gloria then turned to Cade and said, "I can only stick around until Monday morning at the latest without inciting suspicion. After that, you're pretty much on your own. You were signed into the BOQ as husband wife with a phony appointment in radiology on Tuesday afternoon. That's all the time I could swing for you on short notice." Cade nodded. "What about wheels?" Gloria shoved a light blue string-bound folder across the desk. It had the words _'Zuricher Versicherung'_ on the cover. Inside were automobile insurance and registration forms, a receipt for the Canadian PX tax-exemption processing fee, a receipt for a car purchase, a set of keys, and a cassette tape in a translucent plastic case. "That's your Tchaikovsky tape, Ed. Sorry I kept it so long. I kind of forgot about it until the copy I ordered arrived yesterday, but as it happens, you'll have use for it. On the way down here I bought a beige, five-year-old Mercedes 220SB and a year's worth of insurance in your name. The place is called World Motors. We own about half of it by investment. The owner is..." "Jake Hardin," said Cade. "I've run into him around Ramstein. He wanted me to trade my Ford in on a newer Volvo." Gloria smiled and nodded. "Sounds about right. He retired here and opened the car lot a few years ago. We bankrolled some of it to help him get started and we keep him on tap. He thinks that your Ford died while I was using it and that you'll be arriving on this afternoon's MAC flight." "Uh, huh. Is he bringing the car up here?" "That's the plan. I'll take him back to his office, but before I do, check the car over. It should have a full tank when it gets here, too."

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"How did he get the registration and plates on a Saturday, Gloria?" Gloria grinned and pulled another paper from the folder. "He didn't. You'll be driving on his plates until you reregister the car. This is a letter of permission." In quiet surprise, Ed said, "Jesus H. Frog, Gloria! I can't believe Hardin sold you his own car. He always said that one was his baby." She laughed and said, "Yeah, so he said. He bitched and moaned and charged way too much, but now it's your baby. Look, Ed, don't put too much into this, okay? You needed a car that wasn't attached to any of us. Hardin had one." Cade looked over the paperwork, then put it all back in the folder and looked at Gloria as he asked, "Do I have to give it up later?" Gloria shook her head. "Nope. John may make you pay back the petty cash fund, though, if you keep it." Debra leaned forward and incredulously asked, "Did I just hear you people correctly? _You_ bought _him_ a car with agency funds? A Mercedes, of all things, that he may _not_ have to pay for?" After a glance at Debra, Gloria asked Ed, "Tell me again why we're covering her ass, will you?" Cade tried to look confused and said, "Uh, well, I'm suddenly not sure, ma'am. She's kinda cute, but if she's gonna make a big stink about my new car, I can drop her off at the police station on the way home." Gloria gave Ed a curt nod and a smile. "Just make sure Stewart gets his gun back if you dump her, okay?" Ed nodded. "No sweat." Debra stared at Cade for a second before she repeated, "_No sweat?_" After looking back at her stolidly for a moment, Cade said, "What business is it of yours how she bought my car? Your main concern should be staying alive, not how we spend captured money." "Captured? Captured how?" Gloria rapped the desk to get their attention. Her tone was sharp. "Captured from Communist couriers, for example. It saves us from having to beg for enough official funding to get the job done. Mind your own damned business, McAlister. The car is part of the plan to keep you alive. That's all you need to know, and you should probably keep in mind that John, Ed, and I could all wind up in deep shit for helping you at all." In an equally sharp tone Debra asked, "Then why the hell are you doing it? What's in it for you?" For a few long few moments, Gloria simply sat behind the desk, staring at Debra, then she said, "What the hell. These aren't state secrets, are they? John showed you some pictures of his son, Debra. _That's_ why he's doing it. He feels some of your loss. That and the fact that he thinks that the rest of what's happening to you shouldn't be happening to you. I'm in this because John and Ed are in it. I can't stop John. He's my boss. I can't stop Ed, either, because he's working with John. Our idea to just ship you somewhere safe got squashed, so that puts me in the position of having to either turn my back on this whole mess or support my friends." Rising to her feet, Gloria added, "_That's_ why I'm in this, Debra, so please don't even think of giving me any more shit. Not about anything. I won't abandon Ed and John, but I'll sure as hell find a way to pull them both out of this if anything goes wrong because of you, and if you do anything stupid that gets any of my people killed, I'll hunt you down myself." Turning to Ed, she said, "Back in a while," before she marched out of the office. Debra watched her leave with wide eyes that eventually found their way to Cade. As Debra opened her mouth to speak, Cade raised a hand quietly said, "Think before you speak, Debra." Debra's mouth closed and her eyes narrowed, then she said, "I was only going to say that I didn't mean to piss her off like that." Cade nodded slightly, but said nothing more than, "Uh, huh."

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"Really," said Debra. "I just wanted a little clarification. That's all. She didn't have to threaten me." "Threat?" asked Ed. "I didn't hear a threat. Gloria doesn't threaten, Debra. She promises. She disappeared for a few days last year. During that time, someone who tried to fish some extra money out of the East Germans by ratting on one of her extraction teams drowned in a canal." "Are you saying that she killed..?" Ed shook his head as he said, "I wasn't there, ma'am. I can't and wouldn't say who did what to whom. All I'm saying now is that Gloria can be rather unforgiving, and having said that, I think I'm going to see about finding some coffee. We're in a supply dock. There has to be a coffee pot around here somewhere." After a moment of staring at him, Debra nodded. "Uh, yes. There's one out front, but it's empty. I saw it on the way in. She said that tape was Tchaikovsky." Glancing at the tape as if to verify matters, Ed said, "No change. Still is." "Cute," said Debra. "_You_ listen to classical music?" Cade sighed at her tone and said, "Yeah. Some. The stuff I like, anyway, and this is one of the pieces I like." Debra gave him an odd look and asked, "May I see that tape? I'm getting curious about something, Ed." Ed slid it across the desk to her. "Sure. About what?" She stopped the tape at the edge of the desk and picked it up, then looked up at Cade. "You, that's what," she said. "Got any more little surprises for me?" Ed grinned and said, "Can't say until I know more about what surprises you." Debra grinned back at him and then read the tape's label aloud. "_Tchaikovsky, Violin Concerto in D, Opus 35._ I know that piece. It's intricate and it's paced rather quickly." She glanced up at Cade as if expecting a response, so he shrugged and said, "Yeah, it moves right along." "That's all you can say about it? _'It moves right along'_?" Getting to his feet, Cade shrugged again and said, "If you want sparkling commentary, read the back of the tape box, ma'am. From me, you get _'I liked it enough to buy it'_." Debra laughed shortly and slid the tape back to him before collecting her purse and standing up. "I see. Any sparkling comments about the artist, then?" Sliding the tape into the folder with the car tags and papers, Cade said, "Sure. She's a helluva fiddler and she looks real good on the label. Let's go see if we have a car yet. If not, I'll make the coffee myself." Laughing again, Debra said, "You're hooked on that stuff, aren't you?" "And you aren't? I saw your office pot at eight in the morning, remember? It was already less than half full." -------*Chapter Eighteen* As Ed and Debra walked out of the office and into the loading area they heard a car pulling up to the building near the big loading door, then heard someone get out of the car and walk up the steps outside. When the footsteps stopped too soon, Gloria peeked out a window. "It's Hardin," she said. "He's staring at the Mercedes. I think he wasn't kidding about that car being his baby." Glancing back at them, she said, "Disappear, people." As Ed started to steer Debra back into the office, she asked, "Why..?" "He thinks I'm on a MAC flight that hasn't arrived yet, remember? Go." Once Debra was through the door, Ed closed and locked it and turned the lights off. They heard Gloria open the other door for Jake Hardin and a brief conversation that was followed by the rattle of keys, then they heard the

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other door close. After a few moments, Ed parted the office blinds and saw nobody in the loading bay. "They're gone," he said, unlocking and opening the office door. "Let's get over to the BOQ and get settled." "But our luggage..?" Urging her toward the outer doors, he said, "It's probably still in the BMW. Gloria will get it to us later." His lack of concern about their luggage earned him a sharp glance, but the glance faded to something undefinable as he opened the outer door and she got a look at the Mercedes Gloria had bought. She stopped in the doorway. After a moment, Debra said, "It has _tailfins,_ Ed." "So? They aren't big ones." "But I thought ... This is ... This is an _old_ car, Ed." He grinned and said, "Yup. A 1966 Mercedes 220SB. It has four doors, four cylinders, four gears, and a trunk the size of a small cave." As they walked down the steps, she asked, "But aren't we trying to be inconspicuous? What happened to being inconspicuous?" Opening the car door for her, Cade said, "They're all over the place, Debra. Most aren't in this condition, but there are plenty of them running around. This one used to be a taxicab. Hardin told me about it. Hell, he told everybody about it, I think. He dropped in a new engine and fixed it up a few years ago. He was going to give it to his wife, but when they split up, he kept it." "He has a car lot, right? How come he didn't sell it?" Ed shrugged. "He never said. What do you think of it?" Debra ran her hand over the seat and said, "It seems like a nice old car, I guess. It's clean, anyway. What's that button on the gearshift?" "Overdrive. The engine's only about two liters or so, so the real power in a car like this is in the transmission. In low gears, it runs like a bunny around town. Get on the autobahn and hit the overdrive, and you can scoot along at about one-eighty without straining the engine too much." Ed was reaching to start the car when her finger poked his shoulder hard. He turned to look at her. "You-will-_not_," she said, "Repeat: You will _not_ be driving that fast with me in this antique." "It's an antique in perfect working order. Better than most new cars." The finger poked hard into his shoulder again and Debra said, "You will _not_..." Cade sighed and said, "Yeah, yeah. Heard you the first time. Those marks on the speedometer are kilometers -- not miles -- per hour, you know." After a moment, Debra said, "That's over a hundred and still too damned fast." A tap of the key brought the engine to life, and a few minutes later they were parked in the side lot by the BOQ. As they walked to the entrance, Debra asked if it wouldn't look a little funny to be checking in without luggage. "Nope. Happens all the time here. Patients' families arrive, but their luggage doesn't always arrive with them. Same for some of the patients who fly in." In their room some ten minutes later, Debra seemed somewhat discomfited about something. She roamed around the room briefly, then pulled the chair from under the hotel-style writing desk and sat down. Ed sat on the edge of one of the twin beds and asked, "Something on your mind?" Debra looked at the beds without comment for a moment, then said, "For some reason, it never occurred to me that we'd be sharing a room." When Cade didn't reply immediately, she looked in his direction. He slipped his shoes off and stretched out, then reached for the television schedule on the night table. "One channel," he said, scanning the chart. "You have your choice of

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carefully filtered and edited news, old sitcom reruns, and not-quite-so-old reruns, courtesy of the Armed Forces Radio and Television Service." Looking up at her, he said, "If it will make you feel better, we can take separate showers. The stall looked kind of small, anyway, and nobody said anything about guarding you _that_ closely, miLady. Wouldn't want to get soap on my gun." She blinked at him, then snickered, then giggled. "I can't believe you said that. Hell, I can't believe you said it with a straight face." "It's part of the training. Very intense. For a while, I said everything with a straight face. Couldn't help it." She snickered again, then asked, "Well, what now? Do we just sit here and wait for our luggage?" "Yeah. Give Gloria time to drop Hardin someplace and get back here, then we see if she's got anything else on her mind while we get our stuff out of the BMW. After that, we can see about dinner at the O-club." Debra looked at her watch. "How long do you think she'll be?" "Not very. World Motors is just outside the Ramstein west gate. Chances are that if he isn't there, he lives in Ramstein town. She knows he has our toothbrushes." Cade put his arms behind his head and closed his eyes, occasionally opening them slightly to see what Debra was up to as she paced the room. Following her progress around the room, he noted yet again that she was a tall, good-looking blonde. After reading the TV chart, Debra parted the curtains to peek out the window, then turned on the TV and watched it for maybe ten minutes before she got up and turned it off. There was a Landstuhl hospital phone directory in the night stand drawer that kept her busy for another five minutes or so. Every time a car pulled into the lot, she strode quickly to the window to see if the new arrival was Gloria. The fourth time a car door sounded outside was the charm. "She's here," said Debra. "Finally. But that's not the blue BMW." "Check your watch, lady. For you, _finally_ amounts to about twenty minutes. You need to learn how to relax." "Like you, you mean? You certainly seemed relaxed enough." Cade grinned. "You were doing all the work. I was supervising." Standing by the door, Debra said, "I see." At Gloria's knock, Debra quickly opened the door. Gloria saw Ed on the bed and noted Debra's tense state. "Is something going on?" she asked. "Did I miss anything?" "Only Debra pacing like a caged panther," said Ed. "She was interesting to watch, though. Major case of the fidgets, there." She tossed her keys at him and said, "Well, grab your stuff out of my Audi. I have to get going." Swinging his feet off the bed and putting on his shoes, Ed said, "I'll move the bags to the Mercedes for now. We can get what we need as we need it. Know of any reason why we shouldn't show ourselves at the O-club or anywhere else around here?" Gloria shook her head. "Only the usual; someone might see you. On the other hand, they don't have room service here, do they? Just try to limit your exposure." After Ed had transferred the luggage from the Audi to the Mercedes and brought in only the two smaller bags that contained their toiletries and essentials, Gloria promised to check in with them on Sunday and headed back to her car. Debra immediately swung her small suitcase onto a bed and opened it. "Changing for dinner?" asked Ed. Debra ignored the question and asked one of her own as she rooted through the suitcase. "Is the Post Exchange still open?" "Don't know. What do you need?" She muttered something and rather roughly closed the suitcase.

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"Something to read would be a good start. I'd thought I'd packed a book." "We'll find you something," said Cade. "Let's check the PX, then see about dinner." While walking along the narrow road that led around the open field between the BOQ and the hospital complex, it occurred to Cade that there appeared to be no way to get from one side of the base to the other unseen. Entering the building near the helicopter pad, they passed through the cafeteria and into the main hospital complex. Cade pointed to a schedule on the wall that advertised the latest movie at the base theater, but Debra took one look at the movies, shook her head, and made a thumbs-down gesture. Proceeding along the secondary hallway into the main hallway, Ed led the way into another secondary hallway on the other side. "How do you know where the PX is?" asked Debra. "Used to work here as an EMT." Debra touched his arm and asked, "What if we run into someone you used to know? Isn't that one of the things we're supposed to avoid?" Ed glanced at her and said, "It won't matter. We aren't staying long. After tonight we're going to hit the road, so don't unpack." Glancing both ways along the corridor, Debra stepped in front of him and stopped their forward progress. The look on her face wasn't a happy one. Cade stepped around her and took her elbow to get her moving again, saying, "C'mon. Walk while you talk. The PX may not be closed yet, and we've already come this far." "I want to know what's going on, Ed." "So do I, but not badly enough to stay here long enough to find out. I've been wondering why we were brought here, Debra. Things don't feel right." Debra's tone was sharp. "You'll have to explain that a little better, Ed." "Simple. All that noise about avoiding exposure doesn't match up with being here at Landstuhl. The Mercedes doesn't add up, either. It stays here when we leave." "Gloria said..." "I was there. I heard her. I'm not buying this setup, Debra, because that's exactly what it feels like to me. A setup." She stopped them again and stared at him. "You think John and Gloria would do something like that? After all they've gone through to get us here?" He got them moving again and said, "A couple of hours on a range to keep us busy. You were issued a used gun. No telling where it came from or under what circumstances it came to be in agency possession, and I doubt if there's a record of that gun in the inventory. Another hour or so of chat in John's office, a ride in a van, and suddenly the BMW is history and we're in a Mercedes. That's the part that I'm trying to figure out at the moment." He glanced at her as they approached the PX doors and asked, "What is it about that Mercedes? There would have been other cars on that lot, Debra. Some would be _'im auftrag'_ -- which means _'on consignment'_ -- from GI's. They'd have valid plates and registrations, if not current insurance. Speaking of insurance, why'd she buy it for a whole year? She only needed enough to give us time to get through this and me time to sell my Ford and swap my insurance over to the Mercedes. A few months, at most, and the minimum is three months. That would have done it." The sign on the PX door told him that they'd have an hour to shop. He pulled her to one side of the hall for a few more words. "When we get back to the room, we'll repack in our brand new luggage from the PX. Tomorrow morning we'll get a ride to the bahnhof, where we'll catch a train back to Kaiserslautern and maybe get a room at a guesthaus on Marktstrasse." Debra looked at him incredulously. "Isn't the idea to get me _away_ from K-town? Why the _hell_ would you want to go back?" "Because someone wants us away from K-town, Debra. They want us on the

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road in a car that they've picked out for us, which means it can probably be tracked. They want to tell us when to leave Landstuhl. Tuesday afternoon. Why? If the idea is to spirit you away, I could manage that without all this extra assistance..." Interrupting him with an upraised hand, Debra gazed intently into his eyes and asked, "Are you sure you aren't just being paranoid, Ed? Think about it. John. Gloria. Your own people. Why?" There's something about eyes. Cade felt a strong pull as he looked into Debra's. She was an attractive woman, sure, but there was something else in those intense blue depths that seemed to reach into him and connect firmly. He wondered if she'd felt the same linking sensation, then admitted to himself that it could have been no more than his own response to her attractiveness. He pretended to be momentarily distracted and looked toward the PX doors to break her spell, then looked back at Debra. "Why, indeed?" he asked. "If I knew that, things would add up a little better, wouldn't they? _'Eternal vigilance and constant mobility are the passwords of survival.'_ Know who said that?" "Probably somebody as paranoid as you are. Would John still be at the office? Can you call him?" "Che Guevara said it, but he probably wasn't the first. I don't know if John would still be there and I don't want to call anybody just yet, Debra. Not until we're far enough out of reach to have a running start if we need one. If I'm just being paranoid, no harm done. C'mon, let's do some shopping." The PX had Samsonite three-piece luggage sets and a small bookrack. Cade suggested that they both pick up a few books to tide them over. He also bought a sewing kit, a small flashlight with extra batteries, and a Swiss Army knife. A couple of GI's were also in the PX. Both were one-stripe PFC's. Cade approached them and asked if they had time to make ten bucks each. One of the guys rather warily asked what they'd have to do. "Not much. I just bought this fabulous blonde some new luggage," said Ed. "All you have to do is take these suitcases up to the BOQ in about an hour. Bring them to the back door with the old Mercedes next to it and save going around the building. I'll meet you there." "That's it? Why an hour?" "It's dinner time," said Cade, nodding toward Debra. "If I don't feed her she gets mean." After a glance at his friend, who nodded, and _'the fabulous blonde'_, who smiled, the guy said, "Yeah. Okay. Cool." As an afterthought, he added, "Sir," just in case he was dealing with an officer in civvies. -------*Chapter Nineteen* Cade and Debra had a quick meal in the cafeteria at the end of the wing by the hospital's helipad, then climbed back up the hill to the BOQ. When he saw the two GI's approaching, he went to the BOQ's rear hall door and waved them in to set the luggage down in the hallway. As he paid them, he said, "Thanks, guys. I didn't really want to haul six suitcases up that hill, not even empty suitcases. They've got me scheduled for tests on Tuesday. I'm kind of hoping things will come back negative." One of the guys said, "Yeah, well, thanks, mister. Good luck," then nudged the other guy to get him moving. He had his money and didn't want to hear about anybody's illness. The other guy took the hint and they left fairly quickly. After the enlisted men had left them, Ed and Debra took the new bags into their room and transferred their things into them. When they'd finished, Ed carefully examined the items in his shaving kit and asked for a look through Debra's toiletry items. "Why?" asked Debra. Holding his cassette tape up to the light for a look inside it, he said, "Gloria had our luggage for a while. I want to see if anybody's bugged

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us. Got anything in cans, like hair spray?" A quick tour of her personal care products turned up nothing. Ed then turned to her old luggage and began prowling his fingers over the seams and joints. Finding nothing, he checked the handles and bottoms, and it was in the bottom of her small suitcase that he found the antenna wire beneath the fabric. He used his knife to make a small slit along the wire and pulled it into view. Debra gasped in surprise as Ed followed the wire to a small, circular indentation in the plastic bottom of the case. He slit the fabric enough to reveal one of the coin-sized transmitter. "Can they hear us?" asked Debra. "This just puts out a tracking signal. It doesn't matter if the others are bugged, too. One is confirmation enough and they stay here when we leave." Her bags were the kind that fit inside each other when not in use, so he put the two smaller ones inside the biggest one and zipped it shut. His own bags weren't the kind that stacked inside each other, but with a little extra effort, he managed to cram one inside the other and get it closed. He put the luggage in the Mercedes, then took his map bag from the car. Finding no transmitter in his map bag, he put the car keys under the floor mat and headed back to the room. Cade spent the early evening studying maps of Germany and various towns as he let a plan of sorts gel in his mind. Around eight he put his maps away and took a shower, then stretched out on the twin bed farthest from the TV to read a while. "You look as if you've decided something," said Debra. "Only that things still don't feel right at all, Debra. I'll call someone in the morning and see what I can turn up." She nodded and watched the AFRTS news, then took a shower and dried her hair with a blow drier. Her robe rose a bit each time she reached above her head with the drier, exposing her thigh. Nice. Very nice. Cade watched her for a while, wondering what lay beneath her blue terrycloth robe, until she noticed his gaze and pulled her bedsheets up to her waist. Flicking the drier off, she said, "It isn't nice to stare at people." "Sorry. Sort of. You're a beautiful woman. It's hard not to stare." She met his gaze for a moment, then flicked the drier back on. Sunday morning they went to breakfast in the main mess hall as would have been expected of an outpatient and his wife. He saw only one person he knew -- Spec. 5 Melissa Connors -- and she was leaving as they entered, but an idea came to him. Cade and Debra spent the morning wandering around the base. The base bottle shop was closed, but the clerk in the BOQ called a friend who sold Cade a fifth of gin, some bitter lemon mixer, and a jar of instant coffee, all of which he installed in his luggage. Debra didn't ask him about the gin, but she gave him a dubious look. At the noon meal, Cade looked for Connors but didn't see her come in or go out. At the Emergency Room's front desk he asked the duty nurse if he could use the phone. She lifted it from the desk to the countertop. "This line can't get off base," said the nurse. "Doesn't need to," said Cade. "Thanks." He dialed 7220, the number for the WAC company, and asked for Conners. The woman who answered said that Connors had just come back from somewhere and sent someone upstairs to look for her. A few minutes later, Conners was on the line. "Hi, 'Lissa. It's Ed Cade." After a moment of silence, Melissa's voice was rather cool as she said, "I saw you going into the mess hall this morning. I've been expecting you to call for months, Cade. I thought you'd been transferred or died or something." "_Or something_ would definitely cover it. What's on your agenda today, 'Lissa? I need a small favor." Another moment of silence ensued, then she softly asked, "So it's

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finally payback time, huh? What kind of favor are we talking about, Cade?" "Nothing drastic enough to call _'payback'_, 'Lissa. I just need a ride to K-town. That's all. You still have the old Chevy?" "Yeah, I still have it. A ride to where in K-town? I just came back from there, Cade. You couldn't think of anyone else to call? Where's _your_ car?" Cade sighed and said, "You're too damned suspicious, 'Lissa. All I need is a ride. _Really._ I'm with a lady who's in some trouble and we're stuck up here at the emergency room on a weekend. We just need a ride into town. Will you help us out?" Yet another silent moment went by before she said in a slightly warmer tone, "A lady in distress, huh? Do you ever meet any other kind? Okay, as long as it's just a ride somewhere, I guess I can handle it. Cindy said you were calling from the ER. You want me to meet you there?" "Yeah, that's where we'll be. Thanks, 'Lissa. Tell you what; we haven't had dinner yet. Want to join us at the O-club and get fed for helping us out?" "I'm enlisted, Cade. I can't go to the O-club." "You can if you're someone's guest in civvies. Or would you rather stop at a restaurant on the way?" "Yeah, a restaurant would be better for me. I wouldn't feel right at the O-club. Too many people know me here. I'd feel like they were staring at me." Cade said, "A restaurant it is, then. How soon should we be ready to go?" "Give me time to get dressed and get over there. About fifteen." "Make it half an hour, okay? Bye for now. Thanks again, 'Lissa." Melissa's tone was droll as she said, "Yeah. Sure. Bye. Hey, wait a minute, Cade. You didn't tell her anything about me, did you?" "Not a thing, ma'am. I figure nobody needs to know a damn thing about you unless _you_ tell them. Those were your exact words, as I seem to recall." "You recall pretty good, Cade. I'll saddle up and get over there, then. See you in half an hour or so." "We'll be near the door. Thanks again. Bye." As he hung up the phone, her words seemed to stick in his mind. _'Saddle up'_ was the kind of term that men used far more often than women. He figured that Lissa's 'secret' was a rather open one around the barracks, at least. He'd been at the Treffpunkt Club in Kaiserslautern one night when a fight broke out in the parking lot just before closing time. Two women -- one a blonde German and the other a brunette American -- had been duking it out, but it hadn't been the usual hissing and scratching and hair pulling of a womens' scuffle. They'd been slugging and kicking in a real effort to put each other down for the count. A third woman sort of orbited the altercation, trying in both English and German to end the matter before the cops arrived. She didn't succeed. The cops arrived in three cars and broke up the fight, separating the combatants and questioning all concerned, but it seemed to Cade that the American girl wasn't receiving enough attention compared to the others. He stepped up to one of the cops and showed his agency ID. "Good evening," Cade said in German. "What was the big fight about? Drugs?" "No, sir. No drugs." He made a wry face and laughingly said, "They were fighting over a woman." "Ah. Well, men do that all the time, don't they? Anybody hurt?" "The American Army-girl has a small cut on her cheek, but that has been tended." A glance at the cop's clipboard told Cade that the _'American Army-girl's'_ name was Conners, Melissa D., and that she was a Spec.5. The ID had been issued at Landstuhl. "Good that nobody was seriously hurt. Excuse me for noticing, but you

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seem to be more concerned with those other two ladies' versions of what happened than with what the American woman might have to say. Is there a reason for this?" The German cop lost his friendly demeanor instantly and eyed Cade tensely for a moment, then said, "We simply haven't had a chance to speak with her. Why are you involving yourself in this matter?" "I have some friends in the Landstuhl JAG office who are always interested to know how US military personnel are treated by local civil authorities. You've spent nearly fifteen minutes taking notes with these two, but you've only taken the American girl's ID and left her in the back of your car." The cop's expression became even more dour as he said, "As I said, we haven't gotten to her yet. None of us speaks English well enough to properly deal with her." "I speak English fairly well. German, too, as you've probably noticed. Would you like some help that might afford this woman the same opportunities as the others?" "We can handle matters well enough. She will be questioned at our offices." As the cop was speaking, the two German women were allowed by the other cops to go to their cars and leave the parking lot. Cade asked, "Would that be before or after she's booked for assault and turned over to the MP's? The other two are leaving. I think you intended to hang the whole mess on the American just to avoid the paperwork. I saw some of the fight. That German girl was hardly a victim. She's got some damned good moves. Maybe even some training." The cop eyed him again and said, "Sir, just how involved do you wish to become? We could arrest you, as well, if you wish." Ed held out his wallet and said, "Maybe you'd like a closer look at my ID? Maybe it would even be a very _good_ idea to take another look? If Frederich finds me in his jail in the morning, he's going to want to personally speak to the man who brought me in, and it won't be a pleasant talk about how well you do your job." The cop took the proffered wallet and called another cop to come have a look at it. The other cop studied it briefly, then handed it back. "A very nice picture," he said to Cade in English. To the other cop, he said in German, "Explain, please." "He says he knows Frederich. He..." Interrupting in an irritated tone, the second cop said, "A lot of people know Frederich. What does he want? Why is he talking to you?" In German, Cade said, "_He_ wants _you_ to let the American girl go the same way you let the two German girls go. He thinks her arrest is unfair and unnecessary." The second cop's eyes widened slightly, then narrowed considerably. "Your German is very good. For an American. Why should we let her go?" "Because before she could be court-martialed as the only person charged in an embarrassing three-way altercation among lesbians, this case would become a publicized issue of unfair treatment that would require official attention at both US and German command levels. I would say that it will probably appear in the newspapers, as well. Frederich wouldn't like that, but he'd make you like it _much_ less." The cop smiled. "You might find it difficult to convince the lady to cooperate. Such a case would be very -- personally _and_ publicly -embarrassing for her." Cade smiled and said, "Anyone who would matter to her would know what happened and why if you caused her to be charged with assault and discharged from the service. The big issue would be unfair treatment of American military people in Germany, not unfair treatment of lesbians. I would like to offer you an opportunity to avoid all that. If you feel that you just can't possibly let her go as you did the German girls, turn her over to me."

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"To _you?_" asked the first cop. "Show us a _police_ ID, and maybe we'd consider..." "No," said the second cop. "He's right. This matter is trivial and Frederich dislikes unflattering publicity. All we need is a proper name in the report and we can be rid of the entire matter." Turning to Ed, he asked, "You will provide us that name, yes?" "That I will," said Cade. "Give me a few minutes to talk to her in your car so she won't give us any difficulties." The cop nodded tersely and opened the car door for Cade, who slid in next to the woman. She recoiled mightily against the opposite door of the car and rubbed her palms on her slacks nervously as she eyed him. "Quick and simple, Spec.5 Conners," said Ed, using her name and rank to let her know that he knew who she was. "Are you too drunk to understand what I'm saying?" "I'm not drunk," said the woman. "What are they going to do? Who are you?" "I'm a guy who can get you out of here without an arrest record, so I need you to cooperate with me a little. Where's your car?" "I ... My Chevy's in the shop. I came here with someone else tonight." "Was she the girl you were fighting about? Those two split a few minutes ago." The woman glowered, looking out the window. "Figures. The little bitch went back to her. Why do you give a damn what happens to me?" "Not just you. It happens all the time to Americans. If they bust Germans, they have to run them through their legal system with all the attendant paperwork and legal expenses. If they lay things on the GI's, the GI's are dealt with by the US militaries and sent home. Less for German cops and courts to do. Much cheaper, too." "That's not what I asked, _sir_. I asked why you're doing this for me." She gave him a saccharin smile and brightly said, "I'm a _dyke,_ you know. I'm one of those women who like women, just in case you hadn't quite figured that out." Ed sighed and said, "Be difficult and you'll be a dyke who's going to sleep in a cell tonight. Tomorrow they'll hand you over to the MP's. A week from now you'll get yanked out of another cell, issued a bad discharge, and be put on a plane. Shut up and cooperate and I'll get you back to your barracks without a fuss. Decide _now,_ lady." "That depends on what _'cooperate'_ means to you, whothehellever you are." Gazing hard at her for a moment, Ed said, "Well, actually, _no,_ it _doesn't_. Right now, you either get busted and booted out of the service or you ride with me. When I get out of this car, you're either with me or you aren't." He reached for the door handle. There wasn't one, of course, so he tapped on the window. The cop approached the car. Without turning to look at her, Cade said, "Now or not at all. Yes or no. You're the only one with anything to lose tonight, lady." The cop opened the door and Ed started to slide out of the car. He felt a motion on the seat behind him, but didn't turn to look. "Okay," said Conners. "Okay. I'm coming with you." -------*Chapter Twenty* Ed had signed the cop's form and been given Conners' ID card. He put it in his shirt pocket and shook hands in a rather formal manner with the cops, then headed for his car with Conners following a few feet behind him. Unlocking the door for her, he opened it and gestured her into the car with a flourish. She stared at him rather drolly for a moment, then got in. As he walked around his car, Ed could see the German cops having a word with the club manager. When he got in and reached to put the key in the ignition, he saw Conners glaring at him.

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"What's the matter, Connors? You think I'm going to try something?" "You're a man, aren't you? Hell, yes, I think you'll try something." "Well, I won't, so lose the attitude. Where to? The Landstuhl WAC shack? As long as I let you out on a US base, the Germans can't bitch about anything. If that's not where you belong, you can get another ride there; one you're more comfortable with." After another moment of silent glaring, she arranged herself more comfortably on the seat, tucking a leg under herself so she could sit facing him. "Yeah. The WAC shack," she said. "They wouldn't have handed me over to you if you weren't a cop, so what kind of cop are you?" He put the Ford in gear and got them moving past the police cars, then out the gate. As they started the long drive down the hill, he handed Conners her ID card. "I'm Ed Cade," he said. "And I'm not a cop. I just thought that what they were doing to you was unfair, so I stepped in." "Bullshit. They wouldn't have handed me over to you if you weren't a cop." Cade glanced at her. "You'll believe what you want, but I'm not a cop. And you can drop the bitch act, lady. Not all men are assholes." He saw her glaringly stifle some kind of reply before changing position to face front and lapsing into silence. At the bottom of the hill, she looked at him again. "I hope you don't expect witty conversation." Ed shook his head. "Nope. I can see that you'd have trouble coming up with any of that. If you can't think of anything good to say, just try being quiet." They were nearing the Landstuhl city limits before she spoke again. "You aren't going to turn me in for being a lesbian?" "I'm not even going to blackmail you about it, ma'am. The way I see it, we have something in common. We both like women. Nothing wrong with that, is there?" He flashed her a grin with the statement, but her face remained impassive. "Damn," muttered Cade. "No wonder the Army doesn't like lesbians. They've got no sense of humor _at all_." After a moment, she said, "Maybe I didn't think it was all that funny." "Oh, well. Too damned bad. I thought it was funny, and entertaining you isn't really my responsibility. In fact, talking you out of police custody and taking you home tonight don't really qualify as my responsibilities, either, but guess what..? Here you are. What do they call you? 'Lissa?" "My friends call me that. You can call me Specialist Conners." "Right. 'Lissa it is, 'cause you're being just a little slow to figure things out tonight and I don't want to wait while you catch up. 'Lissa, here's some plain talk. The fact is that I don't give a damn about your being a lesbian. Another fact is that I don't think that sleeping with women has any affect on someone's ability to do a job for the Army. If it did, a lot of _men_ would be in trouble, wouldn't they? You won't get knocked up, either, right? Yet another fact is that you should accept some things and people as what they appear to be unless they're proven to be something else." He glanced at her and added, "You'd like to be accepted for what you are, wouldn't you? No strings, no hassles, no bullshit? Well, so would I, so I'd appreciate it if you'd just get off my ass while I help you out tonight." Conners gazed at him somewhat darkly for a moment, then turned to face front again. She remained silent as they drove up the hill to Landstuhl base, showed their ID's to get through the gate, and turned left by the hospital entrance to head toward the WAC company's building. As they pulled up in front of the WAC company's doors, a woman who was walking from her car waved and greeted Cade. "Hi, Joanie," he called back. "Just getting in? What _will_ the

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neighbors think?" "To hell with the neighbors," she said, approaching Cade's car. "Been out partying, Cade? Who's that with you? _Oh, my God ... Lissa?_" Lissa had an _'oh, my God'_ look on her face, too, but it was more of sufferance than surprise. She started to open the car door. "Yup," said Ed, "I've been out sampling the sins of the world. Funny how anything that's entertaining is called a sin, isn't it? Lissa got stranded at the Treffpunkt Club, so I gave her a ride home. She's still trying to decide how to thank me, I think." Joanie snickered and said, "I'll just bet she is. Gun or knife? Knife or gun?" Conners stopped her move to get out and slumped in the seat, peering across at Joanie for a moment with a kind of _'please don't be a jerk'_ expression. She then switched her gaze to Cade. "Thanks," she said. "It would have been a long walk." With a smile, Cade said, "No sweat, Lissa. Remember me fondly, okay?" Joanie snickered again, but stifled it quickly when Ed and Conners looked her way. Leaning to stage-whisper to Lissa, Ed said, "I think she _knows_." Joanie let out a short laugh and a giggle. Lissa rolled her eyes and gave Ed a look of vast sufferance as she responded, "No _shit_, Sherlock." She then got out of the car, closed the door, and stood by the car rather stiffly for a moment, as if something more needed said, but settled for, "Well, uh, thanks again. See you." "See you," said Cade. "Remember; no bullshit. You don't have to look over your shoulder, Lissa." Ed and Joanie watched her turn and head for the building. Joanie shook her head slightly and leaned on the door's windowsill. "Nothing else, Ed? Just a ride?" "I didn't try to put the make on her, if that's what you mean. I did get her away from the German cops. They were going to hang an assault charge on her and let the two German girls go. I didn't think that was right, so I stepped in." "Does she know what you do?" "No. No need to tell her, either. It would just make her nervous about her future." Joanie looked him in the eye. "Does she have a future, Cade?" Cade shrugged. "I won't tell on her. I don't give a damn who she sleeps with. I'm not sure she believed me about that, though." "I think I do. I'll talk to her later. Nice to see you again, Ed." "You too, Joanie. Still with the guy from ward six?" "Nope. He couldn't walk on water, after all." "Frustrating, isn't it? Do you know why I never asked you out, ma'am?" Joanie cracked a smile and said, "No. You gonna tell me you can walk on water?" "Sure," said Cade. "But I couldn't see asking you out while you had that ugly, hairy lump hanging on your arm." "You mean Tom, I take it." "Oh, yeah ... That was his name. Couldn't quite remember..." "Crap. What about now that I've removed that lump?" "You're on. When and where?" "How about here, Friday night? I have the weekend off. Let's go somewhere I haven't been and act like tourists." "You got it," said Cade. "You can let me know where I'm taking you when you figure it out." Debra McAlister called him from the ER lounge doorway, breaking his momentary reverie. "Ed, what's the matter?" "Nothing. I was just remembering something. I've arranged a ride to K-town with a friend, Debra."

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"Is that safe? I mean, won't someone know who you know here?" "I don't think they'll know this one. She's not exactly a bosom buddy, Debra. I only met her once. Gave her a ride home from a club. She thought this was _'payback'_." Debra gave him a wry look and said, "That must have been an unusual ride, then. Do you try to pick up women at clubs very often?" "Nope. Actually picked this one up in a parking lot." "Oh, I _see._ Very classy, is she?" Ed pretended to have to think about that, then said, "She has a Chevy and she's willing to haul us to K-town, so she's classy enough." She grinned and said, "It will be interesting to see an example of your taste in women." He grinned back and said, "Go look in a mirror if you want to see what appeals to me. I have a feeling that Lissa won't be what you're expecting." The sound of a car outside made him look back toward the doors. "In fact, I'll let you draw your own conclusions. She just pulled in out front. Grab a couple of suitcases." Cade led the way toward the bronze Chevy Impala as Lissa got out and spotted the suitcases. She reached back into the car for the keys and walked around to open the trunk as Ed and Debra neared the car. Lissa was wearing fairly new blue jeans and a blouse that almost made her look feminine beneath her Army issue field jacket. On her feet were brown cowboy boots. Heading off introductions with a brusque manner, Lissa said, "You didn't say you had a lot of stuff with you, or I would have cleaned out the trunk. Hope you can cram it all in the car." "We'll manage," said Ed. "Lissa, this is Debra. Vice, meet versa." With a small salute from the rear of the car, Lissa said, "Yeah. Hi, Debra. Cade, what's up? How come you didn't call a cab or get a ride from the motor pool?" "We'd rather not be seen sneaking off together, ma'am." Both women stared at him for a moment, then both women started to speak at the same time. Lissa gestured for Debra to go ahead. "Lissa, please don't get the wrong idea. He worded that very badly. We're just going into Kaiserslautern..." "You sound like a schoolteacher," said Lissa. "Is that what you do? Teach school?" "Uh, no, but sometimes it feels that way around the office. I, uhm ... I kind of work in an office." "You don't sound too sure of that." "She _runs_ the office," Ed said, hammering one of the smaller suitcases to make it fit into the trunk. "Bigwig. VIP. Can't be seen with the likes of me." Lissa crossed her arms and leaned on the car. "Uh, huh. And _she_ doesn't have a car, either? What's wrong with this picture, I wonder?" Ed gave her a grin and said, "Nothing's wrong with the picture. We're sneaking off together, like I told you. Can't use our cars 'cause they might be spotted." Lissa turned her gaze on Debra. With a small, knowing smile, she asked, "Married, huh? Getting a little on the side with ol' Cade, here?" Debra's expression morphed into anger instantly. Ed held up a hand to put her on hold and stepped between the women. "No. That's not what's going on, Lissa, but ask yourself this: how much does anyone really need to know about someone else's business? I mean, _really_ need to know, you know what I mean?" Lissa pretended to think about that for a moment, then looked at Debra again and rather offhandedly said, "Yeah. Okay, Cade. Sorry, Deb. That time of the month or something. Are we ready to go yet?" "No. Got two bags that won't go in back here. I'll put 'em in the back on the passenger side while you hold the seat for Debra."

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Lissa wheeled and strode around the front of the car to the driver's door. Debra was still so tense she hadn't moved. Ed spoke in a quiet tone. "Be outraged later, Debra. Just get in the car and let's get out of here, okay?" Without a word, Debra marched around the back of the car and climbed in as Lissa held the seat forward for her. Ed saw Lissa's eyes carefully track Debra's progress as she got into the car, then her gaze switched to him. She wiggled her eyebrows and nodded approvingly. Ed sighed and finished jamming the suitcases in on his side, then got in the front passenger seat. -------*Chapter Twenty-one* As Lissa headed them toward the front gate, he asked, "Anybody want to pick a restaurant, or would the one at the castle do?" "Never had anything more than a beer there," said Lissa. "Is it any good?" "I've eaten there," said Debra. "It'll do fine." Lissa turned them onto the Schlosstrasse intersection at the bottom of the hill. She glanced in the rearview at Debra for a long moment, then glanced at Ed. "The lady doesn't have last name, huh?" "Not at the moment," said Cade. "Some people are looking for her." "Uh, huh. Well, then, how much trouble can I get into by helping you out, Cade?" He grinned at her. "None, unless someone finds out that you gave us a ride or thinks you may have some idea where to find us. You won't, by the way." "Uh, huh," she said again. "And just what kind of trouble is she in, Cade? How bad is it?" Ed turned in his seat to face her. "How much do you really want to know, Lissa? It's bad enough that we _can't_ use our own cars, base transportation, or call a cab. I figure that we only have until tomorrow morning before someone notices we're missing." He didn't add, _'Or that someone may be watching us right now and reporting our every move.'_ Lissa chuckled and said, "Whoo. That's bad, all right. Hey, Cade, you ever been in a car with a woman who wasn't in some kind of trouble?" He grinned and said, "My mother. She mostly stayed out of trouble, I think." Debra sat forward to say, "Ed, I'd rather not get anyone else involved in this. Why don't I just give Lissa twenty dollars or so for the ride? We don't need to let her be seen having dinner with us. I think it's too risky." Lissa glanced at Debra in the mirror again, but said nothing. She switched her gaze to Ed. He said, "It's your call, Lissa. If someone's watching, it's probably already too late. If not, we have time for dinner. Either way, you can just tell the truth if anyone asks. We needed a ride into town, so I called you. Later, you'll drop us off in K-town and it won't matter if you tell someone where we got out." Lissa was silent for some moments as she took another look at each of them. She gestured ahead at the restaurant's parking lot. "In that case," she said with a grin, "Since we're already here, I'll order something expensive and she can still give me the twenty bucks when we get wherever you're going. Howzat, Cade?" She parked the car in the second row from the building and turned it off. "Suits me," said Ed. Debra's concern was unabated. "I think you should tell her who might be looking for us before you let her say yes to this, Ed." He nodded. "Okay. Lissa, have you ever heard of Karl Teffler?" Lissa thought for a moment, then said, "Terrorist. A honcho in the Red

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Guard, or something like that. Likes to blow things up, right?" "That's him and that's who," said Ed. Turning to look at Debra, then at Cade, Lissa excitedly whispered, "_No shit!?_ For real, Cade?" "For real." "What did Miss Creampuff, here, do to piss _him_ off?" Debra shook her head and nodded toward Cade. "Not me," she said. "Him. He shot Teffler's cousin just outside Ramstein." Lissa's incredulous expression turned from Debra to Cade. "I heard about some guy getting shot..! You people are puttin' me on, right?" "Nope," said Cade. "Still want to risk that dinner?" "Uh ... Yeah. Yeah, sure I do. We're already here. If _you_ shot his cousin, why is he after _her?_" As he opened the car door, Ed said, "That's where it gets a little complicated. I'll tell you some of it over dinner." He saw the angular dent in the back of the seat where his gun had pressed against it and he saw Lissa's eyes notice the oblong rectangular dent. She glanced up at him in a questioning manner, but said nothing as she opened her own door and got out to hold the seat forward to let Debra out of the car. Service, as always, was excellent. The owner's wife had seen them coming and met them near the door, greeting Cade and the women in English, then guided them to a table by a window that overlooked the steep hillside leading down to the town of Landstuhl. Lissa was plainly baffled by the menu, so Cade had translated for her until she'd made her selections. Debra had watched them discuss the possibilities, sipping her wine and only commenting when asked for her opinion on a food choice. As the owner's wife left with their orders, Lissa leaned across the table, glancing to see that the woman was out of earshot, and said, "So, why's Teffler after her? Why isn't he after you, instead?" "He probably is after me," said Cade. "But he thinks he needs someone to trade for his cousin, and that _wouldn't_ be me. The cousin's still alive, as far as I know, but they're afraid he might talk too much. Debra's daughter was involved in some stuff that turned mean and led to the current situation, and now some people think that Debra's the most likely candidate for a kidnapping attempt." "_Some people?_ You mean the cops, right? Why aren't they doing something? Why the hell is she running around with you instead of in protective custody somewhere? And where's the daughter? Wouldn't they be after her, too?" Debra answered Lissa in a quiet, flat tone. "No, they wouldn't," she said. "My daughter was the first casualty from all this ... this..." Ed reached for her hand squeezed it lightly. Lissa's expression had changed to one of concern, but she sat perfectly still and quiet as Debra took a deep breath and raised her eyes to meet Lissa's. In the same tone as before, Debra said, "My daughter's dead, Lissa. That's how all this ... this... _crap_... started." Although she said nothing, Lissa had an abashed, _'Oh, jeez'_ look on her face when she glanced at me. Debra seemed to consider her words for a moment, then quietly amended herself with, "No. No, that's not quite true. She was only missing when I went to face a man who had something to do with her disappearance. He was arrested. _That's_ when it really started. I guess I started all of this." Lissa just stared at her for a moment, then looked at Ed and asked, "Maybe I should just shut up, huh? I don't need to know anything if it's going to upset her..." "No," said Debra in a near-whisper. "I'll be all right. Ed can answer

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your questions, though. I don't seem to be up to it at the moment." Lissa looked at Cade for a moment, then shook her head. "Later, maybe," she said. "If you want to make an informed decision," said Ed, "Later will be too late. Short version: She confronted the guy and he hit her. I got there too late to stop that, but the cop who followed me there arrested Steele..." "_Steele?_ Steele, the pusher?" "That's the one. Later, I was on a date when a car tried to run us off the road near the Ramstein west gate. I wound up having to shoot the guy. He's in a hospital and his bosses want him out of police custody. They think Debra would be good for trading, and I can't trust my own people because it seems that the politicians want to use her as an excuse to go hunting. That's kind of where things stand at the moment." "Jeeezuuusss," muttered Lissa. "Hey, you told me you aren't a cop." "I'm not," said Cade. "But..." Debra glanced up and said, "No, Lissa, he isn't a cop." "Then how is it he carries a gun and shoots people and isn't in jail?" Cade said, "He just does and he just isn't, okay?" Lissa sat back in her chair and gazed first at Debra, then at Ed. "No, it isn't okay 'cause you're using me and my car and if something happens ... What are you, Cade? How is it you can shoot people and not go directly to jail? That dent in the seat when you got out ... It came from a gun, didn't it?" He nodded. "It did. You look as if I ought to ask you again how you feel about having dinner with us, Lissa." "Uh, yeah, well..." "Tell you what, ma'am. If anyone asks why you gave us a ride, just tell 'em that I had a gun and told you to drive. They'll believe you." Lissa gave him a flat gaze and said, "Yeah, I can see how they might. So all this is for real and the situation's really that bad?" Debra let out an involuntary snicker. "Oh, _hell,_ Lissa, it's probably getting worse even as we speak, the way things have been going." When Lissa looked back at Ed, he nodded. "Could be. Unless the guy dies and makes the trade unnecessary, that is. Even then, Teffler and his friends would probably still be looking for me." "Probably?" asked Lissa. "Why wouldn't they be? You shot his cousin, didn't you?" "Cousins aren't always very close." "I wouldn't count on that." "I won't, but let's say the guy I shot dies. That would let Debra off the hook and my outfit can jump back into things." Debra said, "I thought you said you couldn't trust your outfit?" "The way things are, no. If you're no longer an issue, yes. Enough, anyway." Lissa shook her head. "You know, I just don't understand that one damned little bit, Cade. If you can't trust them with her, why could you trust them without her?" He shrugged. "Different situation. Different goals. Our food's coming. Let's put this on hold for a while, okay?" Halfway through the meal, Cade asked, "Lissa, you work on base, so you could walk to work for a while. How about selling me your car?" Lissa stopped chewing and looked at him for a moment, then asked, "How much?" "Five hundred." She shook her head. "Nope. Got almost twice that much in it just from trying to keep it alive this year. Some of the parts had to come all the way from the States." "A thousand, then," said Ed. "But there's a catch." Lissa gave him a fisheye look and said, "Which is..?"

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Cade put his fork down and reached for his notebook. "You won't really be selling it. You'll give me a letter of permission to use it on your tags and insurance, and you'll get the car back later." After eating a few more bites, Lissa asked, "When would I get the money?" "As soon as you sign a letter of permission." Nodding slightly, Lissa asked, "Sounds okay, but how much trouble can I get into?" Cade shrugged. "No more than if you lent it to someone on base." A few more thoughtful moments passed, then Lissa said, "Let me see the thousand let me see what you're gonna put in that letter before I sign it." Some minutes later, Cade had written a general letter of permission on a page of his notebook, leaving blank spots for details about the car. He then pulled the envelope containing five thousand from his coat pocket and opened it in his lap, under the table, and removed ten hundred dollar bills, which he placed on top of the letter. Cade put the envelope back in his pocket as Lissa counted the money, then reached for his pen. She took one last hard look at him before she signed the note. "You can drop me near the train station," said Lissa. "I'll get a ride back up the hill from there." "Could you do us one last favor?" asked Cade. "I'd rather drop you off at the bahnhof in either Zweibrucken or Pirmasens. It would save us from going back around Landstuhl hill and we kind of need to put some distance between us and this area." Lissa looked at Ed Cade, then at Debra, then at Cade again. She seemed to ponder his suggestion hard for some long moments, then she shook her head. "No," she said. "Sorry, Cade, but I don't think I want to do that. I have the money and you have the car and permission to use it. Don't worry about me. I'll get a cab from here." Lissa's abrupt balking at further cooperation made Debra look at her curiously, but neither woman said anything. When Debra looked at Ed, he shrugged and went back to eating his dinner. While Debra seemed to pick at her food, Lissa inhaled hers as if she hadn't eaten for a week. When she finished, she glanced at her watch, feigned surprise, and said that she had to be back at the barracks for CQ duty that evening. She then excused herself to use the restaurant phone to call a cab. Debra watched her head for the front of the restaurant, and when Lissa was out of earshot, she asked, "Why do you think she's in such a big hurry to get back to base?" "She isn't. She's in a hurry to get away from us, now that she's got the money." "What was that about Zweibrucken and Pirmasens? Aren't we going through Kaiserslautern to take the autobahn south?" Cade shook his head. "No. We're not going south at all." Debra blinked at him and said, "Oh. Well, where _are_ we going?" "Trier. There's a Chinese restaurant there where we can buy some papers, not that it will do us a hell of a lot of good if the word's out to watch for you." Debra sat back and seemed about to get miffed as she asked, "For me? What about you? What are you getting at, Cade?" -------*Chapter Twenty-two* Ed poured wine for them and said, "You aren't a plain Jane, Debra. You're too damned good looking. Most border guards are men. Tell them to be on the lookout for a tall, sharp blonde and they'll get a laugh out of the idea that anyone would think they'd have to tell them to do that in the first place. Meanwhile, the picture that will go with the order will be posted on their bulletin boards and your face will become permanently etched in their skulls, just like a favorite pinup."

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Debra gave him a narrow gaze and asked, "Is this some sort of line?" Cade matched her gaze and said, "They took Bonnie away for a dye job. Why not you, too? Not that changing your hair would help much. You have a face men won't forget, and the guys in the border booths are probably bright enough to realize that you might not still be a blonde when you get there." "You sound as if you think your own people wanted us to get caught, Ed." "Don't know. I don't think John wants us caught, but all I know for sure is that he told me not to let us get caught. Not by anybody." A revelation of sorts hit Debra. "Ed, how will we know when this is over? You can't call in without being traced. How long will we have to keep running?" Before Cade could answer, Lissa returned to the table. "My cab will be here in a few minutes," she said, parting two keys from her key ring and setting them on the table. "Is there anything else we need to do or talk about before I go?" "Guess not," said Cade. "I have the keys, the car, and the note. Thanks for helping us out, Lissa." Lissa patted her pocket and said, "Oh, no. Thank _you_. I'm gonna buy a decent car with this." "Don't buy it until we get the Chevy back to you, okay? People will ask questions." "Anyone who knows me will ask questions anyway, Cade. I was always messing with that car or trying to keep it running. What do I tell them?" "You lent the car to a friend, Lissa. That's all they need to know. When you get it back, you can sell it and get something else." She nodded once, then reached in her pocket and pulled out two books of PX-issue gasoline coupons. "Here," she said, "You might as well have these to go with the car. It's only got about a quarter of a tank in it right now." Cade said, "Thanks. Glad to have them. Is there anything about the car that I should watch for? Problems?" "It overheats sometimes," said Lissa. "Runs low on water. I never could find the leak." Nodding, Cade said, "Good enough. We'll toss a few jugs in the back, just in case." Spotting a taxi pulling into the restaurant parking lot, he added, "I think your ride's here. Thanks again, Lissa." Lissa glanced at Debra, then back at Cade, and said, "Good luck. Bye," then she turned and headed for the front door. When Cade picked up his wine glass, Debra said, "Back to my question, Ed. How will we know when this is over?" "John will place a London Times _'personals'_ ad, Debra. _'Dragonfly, please call home',_ or something to that effect. It will run for about a week. You about ready to get underway?" Debra sighed and said, "No, not really, but I guess we can't stay here forever, either." When he paid for their meal, Cade asked for change of a fifty-mark bill in five-mark coins. Both Deb and the cashier thought his request was odd, but the cashier broke open a new roll of coins to accommodate him. A few minutes later they were approaching the car in the gathering darkness of evening. Cade started the Chevy and quickly checked its lights and signals, then put a finger to the treads of all four tires. The tires were worn, but still had tread enough. Descending the hill from the castle restaurant was a more than adequate test of the brakes, and the straightaway into town let him check the steering. The heater, the radio, and even the dash clock worked. Things could have been worse. As they passed the Esso station near the turnoff to Ramstein, Debra asked if perhaps they shouldn't get gas before leaving the area. Cade replied that since Landstuhl had no PX gas station, the Esso would be Lissa's nearest local source where she could use her gas coupons. If questioned, they'd probably remember something like the car of a regular customer being driven by

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strangers. "So?" asked Debra. "It isn't as if we'd tell them where we're going." "If we were running on fumes I'd have to do it now, but a quarter-tank will get us well out of the area, Deb. We'll get the gas somewhere else." Falling snow and someone else's minor accident that temporarily blocked the road slowed their progress through the mountains, adding almost half an hour to their trip before they reached the town of Birkenfeld. Debra peered out the windows at their surroundings as they entered the town and asked, "How's the gas holding out?" "We're down to an eighth of a tank," said Cade. "Watch for a gas station." Giving him a skeptical look, Debra said, "This is rural Germany, Ed. They roll up the sidewalks at about seven." Rattling the five-mark coins in his jacket pocket, Cade said, "We're looking for well-lit, modern-looking gas pumps with big pictures of coins on or near them." With a slightly amazed expression, Deb was asking, "You think they'll have those way out here?" just as they rounded a bend and a BP station came into view. Two brightly-lit pumps under an awning of their own beckoned to them. "Yeah," said Cade. "I think they might have those, even way out here." Deb gave him a droll look that became a small grin as they pulled into the station. She said, "Yeah, well, maybe they do, then." Mostly because of a bitingly cold wind, Cade decided that they could make do with thirty liters -- roughly eight gallons. When the pump stopped, he quickly hung up the gas nozzle, lifted the car's hood, checked the oil and water, slammed the hood down, and hopped back into the car. "You should work on a pit crew," said a grinning Debra. "That was fast." "We'll try real hard to avoid this in the future," said Cade, as he started the car and held his hands in front of the heater vents. "I can't feel my fingers." Driving conditions didn't get worse, but they didn't improve, either. It was after nine when they passed the ancient Roman arch in downtown Trier. Cade stopped at the Bundespost office and went inside to use a pay phone. The man who answered asked Cade a few questions, then told him to come to the restaurant, even though it was closed. Ten minutes later Cade and Debra were seated at a table. A teenaged waitress brought them jasmine tea without being asked and then asked Cade in German if they'd like to see a menu. "Thank you very much," said Cade, smiling at the young woman. "But this fine tea is more than enough and I'm sure that your cooks would like to go home. We both apologize for having to burden you with our problems at this hour." The woman smiled and said, "You are much more polite than most Germans and you have an unusual accent." She switched to English and asked, "You are American?" Cade nodded and grinned at her. "That's very perceptive of you. Most Germans think I'm from Munich or Stuttgart." She bowed slightly at his acknowledgement and said, "My father will arrive shortly. Please let me know if you'd like anything while you wait." "Thank you. Would you be Mei?" The girl hid her surprise well as she coolly asked, "How do you know my name?" Cade grinned again and said, "Nothing spooky about it miLady. You were the girl who waited in the car when I met your father near the covered wooden bridge in Lucerne. The driver said your name when he told you to behave and be quiet." Her gaze narrowed as she asked, "You speak Chinese, as well?" Shaking his head, Cade said, "No, unfortunately not. I could see that you were upset about something. The driver turned quickly and said something

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sharply to you, then said a lot of other stuff. I simply assumed that what he'd said first was your name, to get your attention. That's pretty universal." She nodded. "I was much younger then, and often difficult." "Two years isn't very long. You've become a beautiful young woman, but I'll bet that you still let people know in no uncertain terms when something displeases you." Debra chuckled and said, "He thinks he knows everything, Mei." A man's voice from the kitchen doorway said, "He's certainly correct about my daughter, madam. This is her public face. She is a young dragon with everyone else." Cade and Debra stood as the man approached. "Hello, Wing," said Cade. "Sorry to show up so late." Wing shook his head dismissively as he extended his hand. "It's good to see you again, Ed. Introduce me to your lovely friend, then let's have some tea and talk." Over a pot of tea, Cade outlined their situation to an extent that surprised Debra, omitting only her daughter's involvement and death. Seeing her expression, Wing said, "Mr. Cade took it upon himself to help me and my daughter leave Eastern Europe, Ms. McAlister. He was under no orders to do so and in fact eventually placed himself at considerable personal and professional risk by assisting me. If I may now assist him, I will be more than happy to do so." Debra nodded and said, "Sorry. It just seemed to me that he was being more candid than absolutely necessary. If I may ask, how did you end up in Germany in the first place?" Wing looked at Cade, who shrugged, and then he said to Debra, "I was trained in four languages, Ms. McAlister. French, English, Russian, and German. As a Chinese intelligence operative, I worked in Western Europe for over a decade, organizing and hosting embassy affairs such as banquets and parties. My wife was also an intelligence operative. When she died while we were stationed in Berlin, it was decided that I no longer -- as Americans say -- _'fit the bill'_, and would be replaced." "Or issued a new wife," said Cade. "That was the other option, as I recall." Wing smiled slightly and said, "Yes. That was my other option; to accept a new wife chosen by the State. The woman suggested for the role was hard as steel and totally unsuitable for hostess duties. She scared my daughter simply by entering the room." He sipped his tea and continued, "One morning my daughter and I went to the market to buy special items for that evening's formal meal and we managed to elude our guard with the help of a local restaurant worker. I then tried to contact several embassies to arrange asylum, but none of them deemed me important enough to be worth a possible international incident. East Berlin has only a very tiny oriental population, Ms. McAlister. It was only a matter of time before we'd have been discovered and retrieved." Debra watched him take another sip of tea. Wing seemed to enjoy her fidgeting as she waited for more of the story. Lowering his cup, Wing smilingly said, "Then Ed appeared and had me arrested." "He _what?_" Ed said, "I had him arrested as Henry Wu, a DAC employee who wasn't allowed to travel to the East without going through lots of security hoops. I took Wu's passport with me into West Berlin, where we added a daughter to the passport, then I arrested Wing and Mei and shipped them back to West Germany under guard. The next day, Wu reported his passport stolen and was issued a new one." Wing said, "Just so. Mr. Wu will always have my blessings and my thanks for his cooperation." Cade said, "Wu's family escaped a Japanese labor camp during WW-II. He

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was more than sympathetic." Debra asked, "But how did you get involved, Ed? If all the agencies turned him down..." Ed said, "John asked me to look into the matter in about the same way he asked me to look into your situation, Debra. It was unofficial until I had Wing arrested as Wu and shipped to the West, but after that the US and others couldn't ignore Wing's request for asylum. It wouldn't look good in the papers. They decided to claim credit for helping, after all, mostly in order to avoid explaining why Wing and his daughter hadn't been important enough to help in the first place." "And now," said Wing, "It is my pleasure to return the favor in whatever way I can. You need passports and papers. I'll assume that you will also need a place to stay tonight, since you can't use your current passports at hotels. My daughter will take you to our home and we will see about your papers tomorrow." And so it was. After some more conversation and tea, Ed parked the Chevy behind the restaurant, pulled a couple of suitcases out of it, and then Mei took them to Wing's house. The outside of the small home was pure European contemporary design, but the inside bore strong touches of Wing's Chinese heritage. Mei led them to a bedroom and asked if they had everything they'd need. Ed put down the suitcases and said, "Yes, thanks. We should be fine with what's in these two bags." Mei then showed them the hall bathroom and the kitchen and told them again to let her know if they needed anything, to which Debra replied, "No, thanks. You and your father have really been most helpful already, Mei." As Mei led them into the living room, she said, "In that case, I'll get a few things from my room so that I need not bother you later." Cade said, "Take your time, Mei. My father used to use my room as a guest room, too. I know about sleeping on the couch." Debra said, "Ed could sleep on the couch, Mei." Mei smiled and said, "He is your guardian. His place is by your side. A night on the sofa is not an inconvenience," then headed for her room. -------*Chapter Twenty-three* Debra looked at Cade and asked, "Did you know that your friend Wing would put us in the same room?" "Nope. Does it matter?" She gave him a sharp look and said, "Yes, it matters. Of course it matters." With a grin, Cade asked, "Why? You think I'm going to try something here that I wouldn't have tried at the BOQ?" "The BOQ had twin beds." "Oh. Of course. Now I see. Yeah, twin beds are a real deterrent to passion, aren't they? Tell you what, McAlister; things are as they are until this mess is over. I think you're a great-looking woman, but I also think I can probably contain myself from pouncing on you if you can keep your hands to yourself. I'll even sleep in my underwear, just to ease your mind. Good enough?" Her sharp look became a glare, then became a wry grin. "I'll just pretend you're my ex," she said. "Toward the end, I couldn't stand him." "That might work," said Cade. "One thing, though. If you have to get up to go to the bathroom or something, _don't_ sneak around the room to avoid waking me. No tip-toeing. Just walk normally, okay?" "Why?" Cade gave her a moderately exasperated look and said, "Well, damn, lady, why do you think? Because you'll _wake me up_, that's why. I'll come up fast and I'll have a helluva time getting back to sleep, so _don't_ sneak around the room."

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Mei returned with a small basket of personal items and a dress on a hanger. She set the basket on the coffee table, then hung the dress on the backside of one of the two folding partitions that decorated the room. She then went to the hall closet and brought out a pillow and other bedding and began preparing the couch. Debra helped her tuck in the sheets as Cade went to get a few things from his bag for a trip to the bathroom. A shower and a shave later, he put his pants back on for the return trip to the bedroom. Mei smiled and waved at him from the couch, where she was reading. He smiled and waved back. When he tried the bedroom door, it was locked. "Just a minute," called Debra. "Did you leave me any hot water?" "Nope," said Cade. "Sorry." A moment later Debra unlocked the door and opened it. She was wearing a blue terrycloth robe that almost reached the floor and held a small bag of toiletries. "Were you serious?" she asked. "There's a continuous-flow heater on the wall," said Cade. "When you finish using the hot water, turn it off." "Show me." Cade led her to the bathroom and pointed out the water heater on the bathroom wall. "Turn the knob all the way to the left," said Cade. "Just _please_ dry your little self before you reach for it. I don't want to have to explain why I came back alone." As Debra gave him a droll look, they heard Mei's giggle. Cade left Debra to her own devices and went back to the bedroom, where he tossed his pants on the nearby chair. He then took his paperback from his suitcase and claimed the right-hand side of the bed by putting the holstered .45 under the pillow and climbed under the covers. Some twelve or so pages of science fiction later, Debra came into the bedroom with a towel around her hair. When she saw him reading, she said, "Good. It won't bother you to have the light on for a while." "Leave it on all night, if it'll make you feel better." "That's not what I meant, Cade. I need to comb out my hair and let it dry. I hate sleeping on cold, wet hair." Cade nodded as he turned a page. "Yeah. Same with Anne. She hated hair dryers. Said they wrecked her hair. I'd brush her dry, and by the time I finished, she was ready to nod off. Sometimes she even dozed off while I was brushing." Debra paused in unwrapping her hair to say, "You sound as if you really enjoyed brushing her hair. Who was Anne?" Without looking up, Cade said, "I liked doing anything for Anne. She was one of my teachers. She bought a farm several months after her husband died. I helped her fix the place up that summer." With a grin, Debra said, "It sounds as if you did a lot more than help her around the farm, Ed." Looking up from his book with a direct, humorless gaze at Debra, Cade said, "It was my privilege to try to be whatever she needed, Debra. She's a great lady who went through some hard times." Seeing that Cade was quite serious, Debra quickly nodded and said, "I just meant that ... No, I guess I didn't mean anything at all. Sorry." Cade realized that his answer and demeanor had disturbed her. He shook his head slightly and said, "No, don't apologize. I opened that door, not you. Everybody has a first love, Debra, but Anne had ten years on me and I was only seventeen then. We couldn't have gone much beyond that summer, but I'll always be grateful for our time together." "You thought a great deal of her, didn't you?" "Yup," said Cade, focusing on his book again. "Still do. I guess she became my yardstick, where women are concerned." Debra rubbed her hair vigorously with her towel as she walked to the dresser, then she draped the towel over one of the suitcases and picked up her

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comb. She ran it through her hair a few times as she looked at herself in the mirror, then stopped combing and simply stared at her reflection for several moments without moving. Then she turned to look at Cade. When Debra turned to face him, but didn't move or say anything right away, Cade looked up and asked, "Yes?" Debra looked at the comb in her hand, then tentatively extended it to Cade. "Uhm ... Would you like to comb my hair, Ed? The way you combed hers?" Cade looked up at her for a couple of moments before he set his book down and reached for the comb, then swung his legs over the side of the bed and pulled the chair up close between them. He shoved his pants off the chair and tapped the chair seat with the comb, saying, "At your service, milady." Debra's eyes couldn't help passing over Cade's body as she moved to the chair. He saw the faint redness creeping up her neck as she sat down. "You're only wearing briefs," she said. "If you weren't here, I wouldn't wear that much under a feather comforter. They can get too warm for me. The comforters, I mean, not the briefs." She chuckled nervously and said, "I knew what you meant. Uhm ... Maybe this isn't such a good idea, Ed." He reached around her to hold the comb where she could see it and said, "If you have doubts about having your hair combed, I'll go back to my book." "Not ... I mean ... I mean ... Sleeping in the same bed." Cade started combing and said, "So keep the sheet between us. You can sleep under it and I can sleep over it. Stop worrying. This is supposed to relax you." She gave a nervous chuckle again and said, "That's what I'm afraid of. You..." Again Cade reached to hold the comb in front of her. With a sigh for emphasis, he said, "No games, please. I've never yet taken anything from a woman that wasn't freely offered to me, Debra. Here's your comb. I have a book." Debra sat rather stiffly in the chair, her hands in her lap. For several moments, she said nothing and made no move to take the comb. Cade leaned to place it in her lap, glancing up at her face as he did so. As their eyes met, he saw tears coursing down her cheeks. Cade set the comb down in her lap, lifted one of her trembling hands to his lips for a kiss, softly said, "Sorry," and picked up the comb again. Looking around, he saw no tissues, so he reached for his pants and pulled one of his paper-towel handkerchiefs from the back pocket. When he handed it to her, she took it with an almost inaudible "thank you". He noted that, as upset as she seemed, she still had presence of mind enough to verify that the hanky hadn't already been used before using it herself. He leaned close to her ear and whispered, "Would I do that to you, ma'am?" "Huh? Do what?" she asked. "Give you a _used_ hanky. Eeww. Yuck." She snickered and snuffled at the same time and said, "I don't know. Would you?" "Did I?" "Well, no," she mumbled. "Well, there you go, then. Now relax while I comb your hair for a while." As he began stroking the comb through her hair, she asked, "I thought you had a book?" "It'll be there later. Am I pulling too hard?" "No. That's fine. Why did you change your mind? Because I was crying?" Cade stopped and turned her head slightly so she could see his face as he leaned over. He said, "Hell, yes, because you were crying. It was all I

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could think to do that wouldn't have _you_ thinking that I was trying to grope you or something." As he resumed combing her hair, she asked, "You kissed my hand. Why?" "Oh, I've been wanting to do stuff like that since I first saw you, milady. It was all I could do to restrain myself." "Uh, huh. I'm serious. Why?" Cade sighed and said, "Well, it just seemed like the thing to do at the time, Debra. It felt right, you know? Not too much, not too little?" After a moment, she said, "No. I'm not sure I do know, Ed." As he worked through a slight tangle in her hair, he said, "Well, then, what should I have done? You didn't seem ready for a hug from a guy dressed only in his briefs. Kissing you anywhere else would probably have been kind of dangerous, right?" She giggled involuntarily. "Well, yes. Probably." "Well, then, it wasn't too much 'cause you didn't slap me. It said what I wanted to say. Good enough?" Debra turned slightly to see his face. "You couldn't just use words to say what you wanted to say?" Cade shrugged. "Couldn't think of any words that would work better." Many strokes of the comb later, she almost whisperingly asked, "Do you want to know why I was crying, Ed?" _'If she's embarrassed about it, I can probably guess',_ thought Cade. He stopped combing and rested the comb on her shoulder, then used his fingers to fluff her hair a bit and massage her scalp, which caused the comb to fall forward into her lap. As his fingers massaged the tight cords in her neck, he said, "If you want to tell me, Debra, I'll listen. You aren't completely dry yet. Hand me the comb?" Debra handed him the comb and Cade had used it for several moments before Debra said, "When I saw you -- when I sat down -- I had a ... a twinge, I guess you could call it. Of desire, Ed. After all that's happened ... Sandy ... I..." Her voice faltered and she sobbed softly into her hands. Cade said, "What you felt was normal, Debra. You've been hungry, thirsty, and tired since then, too. Needs are needs, no matter what the Victorians and prudes would like us to believe, and this world doesn't usually stop turning when someone gets off." "But..." She shook her head and let her face fall into her hands. "Debra, don't whipsaw yourself over it. You had an urge. It's just another kind of hunger pang, and they're gonna hit you now and then no matter what else is going on. Feed it or don't, whichever you think will make it go away." Debra turned in the chair to face him with a glare and cuttingly said, "Such _wisdom_ from someone who's never lost anyone." Cade handed her the comb and said, "If it's about _personal_ loss, Debra, the difference is that yours is gone. Mine's still here; just very much out of reach, and if I ever go back to Virginia, I may even see her with someone else. Won't that be fun? Which is really worse than the other?" He pulled his legs from around the chair and stretched them on the bed to ease their stiffness, then slipped under the comforter and picked up his book. "I'm sorry," he said, "This isn't a pissing contest to see who's lost the most. I'll shut up now." -------*Chapter Twenty-four* Debra had been unable to take her eyes off Cade as he had lifted his legs free of the chair and stretched them. The flushing sensation of desire came over her again, even in the midst of her anger, and the knowledge that she was blushing again made her even angrier. When Cade abruptly apologized and withdrew from the discussion, Debra felt a sudden, irrational urge to backhand-slap him and had actually lifted

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her arm as she leaned slightly forward. Without looking up from his book, Cade said, "_Don't_ do it, lady. I don't _hit_ women, but if _you_ hit _me,_ I'll turn you over my knee and tan your ass." He looked up into her livid face and said, "Believe it. Hitting isn't the answer. Besides, you aren't really pissed off at me. You're pissed at _yourself_ for feeling horny when you think you shouldn't." Her hand swept around in a wide arc that he caught fairly easily. "You can just tell me I'm wrong, Debra. _Don't_ hit me." She wrenched herself free of his grip and shoved the chair aside as she stood up. Her tugging on her robe's belt actually tightened the knot, which frustrated her even more as she struggled with it. By the time she was able to undo the knot and wrench the robe off, tears were running down her face and dripping onto her bare breasts. "No," she vehemently whispered through clenched teeth. "_No, you aren't wrong, damn you! Does that make you happy?_" Cade sat up, slipped off his briefs, and stood up to embrace her. For quite a while he simply held her as she sobbed and wrapped her arms somewhat too tightly around him. Her tears ran down his shoulders and back in tickling trails. When her sobbing subsided, he leaned to pluck her towel off the suitcase and used it to gently dab her face and eyes, then asked, "Are you feeling up to making a decision?" She looked at him blankly and asked, "What?" He stepped back a pace, dropped the towel on the bed, and watched her eyes scan him from head to toe, then he looked her over in the same manner. Tall, she was. Fit. Goddamned gorgeous. He wanted to taste every inch of her before... He shook his head slightly and smiled as he said, "A decision, Debra. I very much want to kiss and lick my way from your ankles up, so I'd _really_ like to know; was that just your anger talking, or do you still want me?" She had a quick envisionment of him kissing his way up her body and it caused her to shudder and blush again as she tingled all over. Debra reached for him and pulled Cade into a kiss that seemed to him to go on forever, but not quite long enough. "Yes," she said softly. "I still want you." He smiled at her as he picked her up and then put her down on the bed. After lingeringly kissing her again, he made a production of arranging her legs _just so_, stroking them lovingly as he worked. Then he descended on one of her ankles and kissed his way to her knee. To balance matters, he did the same to her other leg, then continued upward until there was blonde fuzz in his nose. He took a quick, startling lick of her there, then went back to the other knee and again worked his way upward. "The adoration of women comes easy to some men," said Cade. She chuckled just as he reached the apex of her legs and took another lick. Her chuckle turned into a gasp. "I think I'm probably one of them," he continued, in a matter-of-fact tone. "That's ... Entirely possible," she agreed, as he took another lick and lightly nibbled her inner thigh. Cade licked and nibbled some more as he stroked her legs. Now and then he'd take a taste of her, striking deep to rake her pleasure nubbin with his tongue. "This could take a while," he said. "If you get bored, there's a book." As soon as he'd said that, he again dove into her to find her nubbin with his tongue. She softly screeched, "I won't ... I _won't_ get bored!" He swiped his tongue through her bush again and asked, "You promise?" "_Yes! Yes, dammit! I promise!_" Some licking and stroking of her later, he asked, "Is there anything I could be doing for you that I'm not, ma'am?" Debra shook her head frantically and said, "No! No, no, no! Nothing!"

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"You aren't used to this sort of service, are you, milady?" "_No!_" she said breathlessly, "_Oh, shut up, please, and just do me!_" Cade waited until he'd brought Debra to orgasm three times before kissing and licking his way up her body and sliding himself slowly and easily inside her. He kissed her fully as he entered her and held the kiss until he was imbedded as deeply as possible. A few gasping moans escaped the kiss; some were hers, some were his. Smiling down at her, he said, "You feel pretty wonderful, you know." She giggled and said, "So do you." "Is it too soon to ask for a rematch?" Debra laughed softly, creating interesting sensations at their juncture. She tried to muster a dubious look as she said, "We'll see," then laughed again as she wrapped her long legs around his. Some fifteen minutes later, just about ready to explode inside her, Cade stopped. Debra's eyes opened and she stared up at him. "Why did you stop? What's wrong?" "Oh, lordy, ma'am, nothing's wrong. I just want you to promise me something before I let myself go." She bucked slightly under him to try to get him moving again as she frantically asked, "_What?_ What the _hell_ do you want me to promise you now?" "You have to promise me that tomorrow you'll look me in the eye and say, _'Ed, I had a wonderful time last night'_. Can you do that?" "_Are you nuts?_" "I thought it was a perfectly reasonable request." "_Yes! Okay!_ Jesus, would you just get moving, please?" "It would be my pleasure, ma'am. I really _mean_ that, too." Debra giggled and said, "Oh, please, _please_ shut up and..." "And what? You can't say the words, can you?" Gritting her teeth, Debra used her legs to haul him into her and said, "Yes. I _can_ say the words, Cade. I-_can_-say-the-words,-okay? _Fuck_ me. _Fuck. Me_. See? I _can_ say the words. Now _do_ it!" Cade began moving again. He kissed her shoulders, her neck, her face, and her lips, then said, "Well, gee. When you put it like that, I wouldn't dare disappoint you." Debra knew when he came close again. The minute extra swelling and stiffening and the slightly more rapid pace of his strokes triggered something within her. She closed her teeth on a corner of the pillow as she clutched him to her and screamed her orgasm, which startled Cade's charge loose. As he throbbingly, almost painfully, gushed into her, Debra screamed again, then shoved the pillow away, grabbed his face, and pulled him into a kiss that made him squirt and throb within her some more. "There is," she said pantingly, "Something special ... about when a man comes ... inside a woman." _Yeah, well, I've always thought so too_, thought Cade. "How so?" he asked. Debra shook her head tightly, her eyes closed. "Don't know exactly. Fulfillment. Feel-it-in-your-guts completion. The _deed-has-been-done_. Something like that." Cade grinned and said, "Gee! I made you feel like _that_? Little ol' _me_?" She limply smacked his chest and said, "Oh, shut up. Don't make fun of me when I'm pouring my heart out to you." Opening her eyes and turning her head to face him, she added, "Besides, you aren't that little. My ex was two inches shorter, I think." "Is that why he's an ex?" With a sigh of vast exasperation, Debra said, "_No,_ that's not why he's an ex."

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In the process of reaching for the towel he'd used on her tears, he said, "Huh. Okay. Sure. A volcano like you could just kind of make do, I suppose." "Just give me your briefs, please. I hope we didn't make too much noise." Cade stopped reaching and looked at her. "Why do you want my underwear, ma'am?" Another sigh of exasperation. "Because I'd rather we stain _your_ underwear than _their_ towels, _okay?_ I can hand-wash them when I go to the bathroom." Sliding out of the bed, Cade said, "Yeah. Sure. Hey, all I needed was a reason. Stand by one." Instead of giving her his briefs, which might not have been quite enough to contain matters, Cade dug a tee-shirt out of his bag and used one side of it on himself before he folded it and handed it to her. "Thank you," she said. "That was thoughtful of you. Now, may I have my robe?" "Could we maybe just kind of lie here and enjoy ourselves for a while, now that we have the leak contained? I kind of like the aftermath." Debra looked at him oddly, but nodded. Cade clambered across the bed and Debra and wound up hovering over her, almost nose to nose. He kissed her, then kissed her again, then kissed his way along her neck and shoulder until he was able to lie on his side within tongue-range of her upper arm. "You taste really good used," he said. "We have to do this again sometime." Debra used the pillow to stifle her guffawing laugh. Cade gnawed gently on the side of her breast and then kissed the spot. She laughed again, keeping the pillow in place until she felt she could manage not to wake up everyone else in the house. Some time later, Cade got up and slipped his pants on to answer nature's call. When he returned, a robed Debra hurried past him at the bedroom doorway. Water ran for a while, then she returned and draped first the towel, then his tee-shirt over the suitcase to dry. "Do you realize what time it is?" she whisperingly asked him. "About two," he said. She blinked at him and said, "Uh, yes. About two. We need to get some sleep, okay? No play? Sleep?" He saluted her from a prone position on the bed and said, "No play. Sleep." Debra shucked her robe to crawl into bed and saw the sheet tenting upward below Cade's waist. She hesitated halfway into bed -- a display that only made the tenting taller -- and pointed at the spot. "I mean it," she said. "Sleep." Cade crossed his heart and said, "Sleep. Right." She gave him a distrustful look and finished climbing into bed, then kissed him goodnight and rolled onto her left side. Cade snuggled up behind her and nudged her knees upward until he could wiggle himself inside her. She sighed and started to move, but he stopped her with a kiss on her shoulder and whispered, "I just want to go to sleep inside you. Is that all right?" He wiggled until he was fully inserted within her and with another kiss on her shoulder asked, "Will it keep you awake?" "I don't know," she said. "It does feel nice, though." "Try it and see. Just relax and let it be there for you." "For _me?_" "Look ma'am, I'm all out of roses, okay? It'll have to do." Debra's shuddering laughter was again stifled by her pillow. When her laughter stilled, her right arm reached behind his thigh and pulled him in tighter against her. Cade kissed and nibbled her shoulder. While it didn't come right away, sleep did eventually come to them. Someone moving around outside the room woke Cade. A glance at his watch

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on the night table told him that it was almost nine. Steady breathing moved the sheets to his left; Debra lay in perfect calm, her hair partially concealing her lovely face. He reached to gently sweep it back and tuck it behind her ear, then trailed a finger along her jawline. Debra stirred slightly and seemed to snuggle deeper into her pillow. Cade trailed his fingers from her sheet-covered knee to her hip, then along her exposed arm to her shoulder. That roused her. Debra's eyes opened. She realized that she wasn't in her own bedroom and that she wasn't alone in the same instant, and her eyes grew wide. -------*Chapter Twenty-five* "Take it easy," said Cade, resting a firm hand on her shoulder. Debra's head snapped around and her deep blue eyes stared at him almost uncomprehendingly for a moment, then her mouth opened, but no words came out. Cade raised a finger to his lips and said, "Hush. Take a minute and wake up some more. Everything's fine." She said, "Last night ... You ... We...?" With a grin, Cade said, "Well, I had to do _something_, ma'am. You were gonna hit me if I didn't. Do you remember your promise?" Her gaze became a combination of her alarm and concern. "My promise?" "I knew it," said Cade, his face full of mock disappointment. "You're as fickle as all the others. Get what you want and toss me away." "All _what_ others? _What_ promise? What the _hell_ are you talking about?" Cade lay back and put an arm over his eyes in mock despair. "Oh, sure. Now you don't remember. Think _real_ hard, ma'am. Just before you went off like a volcano, you promised me something." Debra sat up, then seemed to freeze in place. Her eyes widened a bit more as she recalled the events of the previous evening in detail. "Oh, my God," she said. Cade reached for her free hand brought it to his lips. She stared blankly at him as he reached to touch her face and said, "Well, you did last night. Thank you." She gave a little screech and backed off the bed, pulling the sheet with her to cover herself. That motion, of course, uncovered Cade. His interest in her stood upright and ready, and her wide, staring eyes locked upon it. "Oh, my God," she repeated in a hushed tone. Cade got out of bed and walked around to take her lightly by the shoulders. He looked into her eyes and said, "Relax, Debra. Take a deep breath, _relax_, and remember last night. Then get ready to go, because we have to meet Wing to get our new papers and decide where to go from here. We can talk later, okay?" When she made no reply, he asked again, more insistently, "_Okay?_" After a moment, she nodded somewhat jerkily, then whispered, "Yes. Okay." "Good," he said, then leaned to kiss her cheek. "Thank you. I had a wonderful time last night, Debra. Pleasing _you_ was my pleasure." He released her and went around the bed to put his briefs and pants on, after which he held up the still slightly damp tee-shirt and said, "It's almost dry, but I won't pack it." Debra gazed at the tee-shirt, as he'd expected, and realized how it had been used. She'd watched him slip into his briefs in only a general sense, her attention focused on the object still protruding from him until he tucked it into the briefs. Her attention had switched to the muscles of his bare back as he'd pulled up his pants and fastened them. A sense of unreality seemed to permeate everything for a few moments. Cade turned to her and pretended surprise that she was still standing there, clutching the sheet. "You can't go out dressed like that," he said, grabbing his toiletries

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kit. Debra glanced down and asked, "What? Oh. Uh, I'll ... I'll get dressed while you're in the bathroom. I..." her words trailed away into silence. Cade nodded as he slipped his shirt on. "Okay. I'll see if there's some coffee." She looked at him questioningly and asked, "Coffee? Why wouldn't there be?" With a shrug, Cade said, "They're not typical white Americans, that's why. Lots of people over here don't drink coffee in the morning. A lot of them drink tea. If there isn't any coffee made, I have some instant in my bag. We won't suffer. You know, if you raised one arm just right, you'd kind of look like the Statue of Liberty." "Huh?" Debra looked around her sheet-draped self, then back at Cade, and said, "Just _go_, please. Give me a few minutes." "Oh, _yes, ma'am_. I'm going to take another shower, then find that coffee. Don't run off, okay? We really ought to turn the mattress over before we go." With an indignant look, Debra said, "_Go._" Cade pretended to be intimidated and scampered to the door, then grinningly saluted her before he opened it and went out. His worries about there being no coffee were unfounded; the scent of brewing coffee came to him as Mei smiled at him from the kitchen. As he headed for the bathroom he smiled back and waved. Debra stood silently for some moments, still clutching the sheet, until she realized that her fingers were beginning to cramp. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she looked across to the other side, where he'd been lying, and watched the indentations in the mattress slowly heal themselves. Images of the night before flitted through her mind unbidden, and those images of herself shocked her more than she'd thought possible, even as they stirred her. She stood up with a glance at the door and looked for her robe. It was lying across the chair on _his_ side of the bed, and again an image came unbidden; that of the moment in which she'd removed it. She reddened in embarrassment as she remembered his expression when her robe had opened. Another tingle flashed through her and she resented it even as it occurred. _To have lost control of herself that way..!_ As she donned her robe, the images flashed through her mind. As she gathered her toiletries, the images flashed. She realized that he, too, must be experiencing remembrances of her and the night's activities and again felt the flushing of a deep blush pass through her. Then she remembered his kiss on her cheek and his words, _'I had a wonderful time last night'_ and realized that those words had been the promise he'd extracted from her just before... As she relived the moment, she blushed again, almost reliving the very sensations as well as the way he'd stopped to make her make that promise. _'Damn him!'_ she thought, _'He ... He used me!'_ Even as that thought occurred to her, she knew it wasn't true. Her anger, like the night before, had little to do with Cade and all to do with her own feelings of guilt. How could she be doing things like ... like _that_... so soon after...? _NO!_ How could she have been doing things like that _at all?!_ When Cade reentered the bedroom with a couple of coffees, he found Debra sitting on the bed, her face in her hands, sobbing into a corner of her robe. He put the coffees on the dresser and moved to sit beside her, then put an arm around her and simply held her for a while. Some moments went by before she quietly said, "You can let me go now." "Do I have to? I really kind of like holding you. I even brought you a coffee." "Yes, you have to. It's my turn to go to the bathroom." Cade remained seated as she stood up. She looked at him for a moment,

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then picked up her toiletries bag and left the room. _Well, at least she didn't say 'We have to talk'_, thought Cade. He changed into clean clothes and sipped his coffee as he repacked his bag. When his coffee was gone, he sipped Debra's, as well, as he took the cups back to the kitchen. Mei had set the table and was preparing a late breakfast. Mei watched Cade rinse Debra's cup and set it aside, then refill his own. "Good coffee," he said, sitting down at the table. "Thanks, milady." "Would you like breakfast now, Mr. Cade, or would you rather wait for Ms. McAlister?" "I'll wait, thanks, just to give her some company while she eats. Call me Ed, Mei." She nodded and stirred whatever was in the pan on the stove for a moment. "I'll be taking you back to the restaurant after breakfast," she said. "My father said that a man would come there and take pictures for your documents." For lack of much better to say, Cade smiled and said, "Sounds good." Several moments went by before Mei said, "I do not wish to be intrusive, but Ms. McAlister was crying this morning. What reason did you have to punish her?" Looking up in surprise, Cade said, "I didn't do anything to her, Mei. She's upset about something that happened before she met me." Mei turned to face him. Her expression was one of skepticism. Cade sighed and said, "Mei, you may ask her yourself. I promise you that I didn't punish her." Silence reigned in the kitchen until Debra came out of the bathroom and joined them. Mei was very attentive to her, to include serving Debra noticeably larger portions of eggs and ham than she served Cade and filling their coffee cups unequally. Cade sighed, set his fork down, and said, "Debra, please tell Mei that I didn't punish you this morning." A slightly surprised Mei carefully watched Debra's face as she looked up in startlement, then asked, "What?" "She thinks I punished you this morning," said Cade. Debra looked at Mei and asked, "Why would you think that?" Mei said, "Last night there were only sounds of joy. This morning you were crying while _he_" -- she glanced sharply at Cade -- "was in the bathroom. If he has mistreated you, I must inform my father. Such behavior is not allowed in this house." When Mei said, 'sounds of joy', Debra's mouth fell open and she blushed deeply, but she hastened to let Mei know that Cade had not mistreated her in any way. "Thank you," said Cade. "See, Mei? I didn't." Mei stood straight and said, "Then I apologize for thinking the worst, Mr. Cade..." "Ed. I told you, call me Ed, please." "You are my elder. It isn't done." "And you are a lovely young lady who isn't afraid to take a stand, Mei. So make an exception for me. You can call me _Mr. Cade_ when your father's around." Mei shook her head. "No. I must call you Mr. Cade." She turned to the stove and picked up the coffee pot, then freshened their coffees, saying, "I'm glad you are not a woman-beater, Mr. Cade. My father thinks very much of you. He would have been most very disappointed." Debra chuckled softly and said, "I'd have been most very disappointed, too, if I'd wound up with a woman beater for a protector. The truth is, Mei, that I think Mr. Cade has done me a rather large favor. He's made me think about something before it could become a more serious problem." Cade tried to look as if he had no idea what she was talking about as

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he asked, "I did?" "Yes, I think so," said Debra. "Leave it at that, please. I'm not ready to talk about it yet." With a look at Mei and a shrug, Cade dug into his breakfast. -------*Chapter Twenty-six* When they arrived at the restaurant a bit before noon, Wing introduced them to a man who quickly set up a curtained booth and took their pictures. He then spoke with Wing very briefly before leaving the restaurant. Wing took them to a table where they sipped tea as Wing regaled Debra with details of his arrest as Henry Wu, his and his daughter's escape to the West, and their lives as restauranteurs since. Less than an hour passed before the photographer returned with Cade's and Debra's new passports and driver's licenses. Cade had become Richard West and Debra had become Andrea Corlin, both citizens of the US. Wing paid the photographer and sent him on his way, then invited Cade and Debra to have lunch before assuming their bright new identities. After a pepper steak lunch and more conversation, Cade and Debra took their leave of Wing and Mei. Two of the cooks stood watching from the doorway as they got in the Chevy. Wing noticed Cade's glance in their direction and said, "They wonder why these Westerners are so special." He said something in Chinese and the cooks disappeared inside the kitchen. "Thanks again, Wing," said Cade. "You've done me a great favor." "You need only call on me if you need anything else, Ed." As the Chevy passed the Roman arch on the same road that had brought them into town, Debra asked, "Where are we going now?" "About two miles," said Cade. "To a coffee shop, where we're going to buy a paper and look for an apartment around here." When he saw Debra looking at him disbelievingly, he said, "The first places anyone will look are hotels and pensions. We're going to get an apartment and hunker down for a week or so, then we'll drive back to K-town and I'll call in. If the news is good, we go back to Kaiserslautern. If the news isn't good, we'll head back to the apartment." "What about watching for a newspaper ad from John?" "We'll do that, too, but I'd still verify personally with John about coming in. Anyone in the office could place an ad." Cade bought a local paper at a coffee shop and scanned the ads for furnished apartments, then made some calls. The fourth one sounded good, so they went to have a look at the place. It was the top floor of a small home along Olewigerstrasse that had been renovated after the war to accommodate additional family members. While Debra wandered through the bedroom, living room, and kitchenette and marveled at the 'antique' furniture, Cade negotiated with the landlady and came to an agreement. As they walked back to the Chevy to get their bags, Cade said, "We need to act like newlyweds for a while. Our new landlady thinks we're a pair of office workers who have taken a month of leave for an affair." Debra stopped to face him and hissed, "You told her _that?_ Are you _crazy?_" "No, of course I didn't tell her that. I told her we were _newlyweds_ who'd taken a month of leave, but I heard her on the phone to her sister, bragging about the two suckers who just rented the apartment. She thinks we aren't really married." "Suckers? I thought you said you could negotiate with her." He nodded. "Yup. She's getting a whole two hundred marks more than she thought she would. She thinks it's because the old Roman amphitheater and baths and all of downtown Trier are smack at the bottom of this hill. That makes us tourist suckers, I guess. It also makes us tenants she's glad to have. Toss in offers to pick up a few things at the store now and then or offer her a ride into town and she'll end up thinking we're the nicest

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Americans she's ever met." As he got Debra moving again, he said, "By the way, Americans and Europeans have different ideas of what constitutes 'antique'. The way you admired her furniture amused her. It's only about a hundred years old. The good stuff is downstairs." Debra shook her head. "Jesus. How old is the _good_ stuff?" "Hard to say. Possibly fairly new. She'd have probably furnished the apartment with things that didn't match whatever is downstairs." Even with the snow on the ground, it was a nice day and they were only a few blocks from a bus stop, so after they took their bags up to the apartment, Cade suggested that they head toward town and find the market. The C&A store was their first stop, for some clothing that didn't look quite so American-PX as their own, and then Cade took Debra to the market. She had never shopped for food items in a store where the labels weren't in English, so even such a mundane task as buying a few days' worth of groceries became a small adventure for her. While she shopped according to pictures on the labels, he went to a nearby auto parts store to buy a Ford Taunus car cover. When he returned to the market, he verified selections about which she'd been uncertain and helped her find a few items she hadn't known how to ask for. It was close to darkness as their bus climbed the hill toward their new apartment. As they carried their purchases up the hill from the bus stop, a number of people greeted them in passing. Cade answered their greetings in kind, once stopping to chat with an older man about his car. Debra finally cleared her throat and gave Cade a look, so he excused himself in a manner that left the old man grinning and they continued to their apartment. Debra asked, "What did you say to him? He thought it was funny." "I told him that the chains of wedlock were already hanging heavy on my shoulders and that I dared not refuse your call." With a glance that revealed well her dim view of his comment, Debra asked, "And what did he say to that?" "He offered his sympathies, of course. He also told me that the chains will seem either heavier or lighter with time, but that I should make the best of every moment with you while we're young. He thought you were quite beautiful, by the way." "How wonderful." "I do, too, you know." She glanced at him again, then said, "Thank you." They were almost to their walkway when he said, "It's still today, Debra. It isn't too late to keep your promise." She stopped cold where the sidewalk intersected their house's walkway and turned to face him. For long moments she simply looked at him. Cade said, "Yeah, I know it was a promise made in a moment of passion. I guess I shouldn't try to hold you to it. You probably didn't know what you were saying." Debra said, "Not at all. I knew exactly what I was saying, Ed. I'm just wondering why you made me make a promise like that, and why you seem to think it's so important. Are you insecure about something?" Cade grinned and said, "Nope. Nuh-uh. Not me. I was there, too, ma'am. You used me unmercifully. Well, no, actually, you let me ... Well, anyway, we both got a workout, didn't we?" Debra said, "Yes. We did. Now tell me why you made me promise that." With a shrug, Cade said, "Only if you keep the promise." She sighed deeply to let him understand her exasperation and said, "_Okay. All right._ Yes, I had a _wonderful time_ last night. _Now_ will you tell me?" Cade leaned to kiss her cheek and said, "Because if you can say it, you can _hear_ it, too. I just wanted to be sure that no matter how you felt about things in the morning, some good memories would remain. Of course, that didn't work, 'cause you waited all day to say it."

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"You're a manipulator, Cade. You know that, don't you?" "Spy school 101. Try to know how people will react as a rule. Be prepared to bend those rules to fit the circumstances. Make a woman happy and she's yours for life." Debra rolled her eyes and continued walking toward the house. Cade caught up with her in time to get the stairwell door for her, then followed her up the stairs. "You've got great legs, ma'am. Really great legs." She stopped and looked back at him for a moment, then continued to the top of the stairs. He unlocked the apartment door for her and followed her inside, then took her coat once they'd set the groceries on the kitchen counter. Debra had made a decision at some point during the day. She couldn't really say when the decision had occurred, but it had come upon her like a revelation of some sort. When Cade finished hanging their coats and turned around, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him into a deep kiss. Cade had thought she'd retreated from him after the crying of the morning and a day that involved no unusual behavior. Debra had seemed as distant as ever, if not more so at times. When she grabbed him and kissed him, it was a total surprise to him and she knew it. When she let him go, he rocked back slightly on the balls of his feet and stood staring at her for a moment as he believed she expected him to, then he asked, "Was that a statement of some sort, or could we do it again?" "We could do it again," she said, "But I want one thing perfectly clear between us." "Name it. Anything." His definitive tone made her smile. "No more promises like that. They won't be necessary." He saluted her loosely and said, "Got it. No more promises under duress. Anything else, milady?" With a chuckle, she said, "No. Nothing else. Not at the moment, anyway." As they came together in another kiss, Cade knew that Debra now felt more in control of herself, if only because she believed that she to some degree controlled him, and that was exactly what he'd hoped for. He'd known that at some point they'd have had to hunker down and wait, possibly for days or weeks, for word that it was safe to come in. Time with little to fill it allows a person too much time to think about things. The likelihood that Debra might lapse into a deep depression over all that had happened began to seem more remote than before, and Cade intended to keep it as far away as possible. When he went downstairs to put the cover on the Chevy, Cade borrowed a phone book from the landlady and brought it back upstairs, then looked up a few things while Debra put groceries away and started to prepare a meal. She didn't really like cooking, but she wanted something to do, and while it was dark outside, it was only about five-thirty in the evening. "Cade," she said, "If we're going to be here for a while, can we get a TV?" "Sure," he said, looking up to watch her move around the kitchen. "We passed a store that sold them. But we'd have to register it and pay special taxes on it and all you'd get are the German stations. I'd have to translate everything for you." He pretended to have a revelation and added, "But that wouldn't be so bad, would it? We could watch TV in bed, between..." She interrupted him. "Maybe we could buy a used American TV through one of the base newsletters? Without having to actually go on a base, I mean?" "Yeah, maybe. But then we'd only have the American channels. Old reruns." With a droll look at him as she opened a can, she said, "I could endure that for a month or so. What about a radio?" "No problem. There's a National Panasonic four-band in my big bag. I'll

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dig it out now, milady." Cade rose to go to his suitcases and brought a black and silver radio about the size of a small cereal box out of his bag and set it on the night table, then pulled out a bank bag from Texas that contained a power cord and four "C" batteries. "Won't you need an adaptor?" asked Debra. "It's built in," said Cade. "There's a selector switch on the back that you can turn with a dime. That's why I bought this model. All I need are plug adaptors for the US and Britain and a few batteries." "You'll need an adaptor for the US? Isn't it the other way around?" "Nope. I got it off-base because I live off-base. Besides, the ones in the PX don't have adaptor switches. You have to buy adaptor kits for them, then lug them around." Cade found a station that played contemporary music, then returned to the table. When Debra put a salad bowl down, he reached for her and pulled her onto his lap and asked, "Do you really think you'll have any time to read that book, milady? I plan to take you to straight to bed right after dinner. You're going to be my dessert." As he kissed her neck, she said, "You'll wear yourself out sooner or later." He kissed her lips, then shook his head and said, "Hah. With me, a comic book would last you a month." -------*Chapter Twenty-seven* Debra gave him a droll look and got up to put a skillet on the stove. "Well, just in case," she said as she buttered the skillet, "See if there's a bookstore in that phone book, will you? With your enthusiasm, you might hurt yourself, and then I'd be stuck for something to do." "Will do. There's always the bahnhof newsstand, too. I don't suppose I could con you into wearing shorts around the house? Maybe a miniskirt?" She turned to regard him dubiously and said, "If I did, I'd be setting a dangerous precedent. Next, you'd be wanting me to run around naked." He grinned hugely and said, "Oh, _pleeeze,_ ma'am? It wouldn't be that much trouble would it? You don't have to depend on pockets the way I do." Debra laughed. "Well, maybe once in a while. Now let me get this meal on." Cade wrote down some addresses in his notebook, then took the phone book back to the landlady. When he came back upstairs, he was rather surprised to find Debra working at the stove in her bra and panties. "Wow," he said, ogling her legs, "Halfway is nice, too." "I don't have an apron," she said. "I'm cooking hamburger and I don't want to get anything on my dress." Cade enthusiastically said, "Good thinking. Very good thinking." He moved to stand behind her and trailed his fingers down the backs of her arms. Goosebumps rose in their wake and she shivered. "Do you want to be fed tonight?" she asked. "I don't think I care at the moment," he said, kissing her bare shoulder. She turned to face him and accepted a kiss, then said, "You'll care when you get hungry later. Let me work. Admire me from the table for a while. Set out a couple of glasses of Coke, will you?" "Yeah, I guess I can do that." Cade kissed her again, then sat down and watched her work until she began placing things on the table. She put the pot down on a mat and looked at him for a moment, then asked, "Why am I the only one here in my undies?" "Because you're cooking? Because you're well worth looking at?" She sighed beautifully and said, "That's a very subjective viewpoint, Ed, and one that completely ignores any interests of mine that may be similar to yours. I won't have that in my kitchen. Strip or starve." As he unbuttoned his shirt, Cade said, "Wow. Show a little interest and

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she thinks she owns you." Turning back to the counter for more table items, she said, "You've showed a lot more than a little interest, Ed." He was down to his briefs when Debra set the last items down and reached for her bra straps. She wriggled it around and undid the clasp, then draped it on one of the chairs before hooking her thumbs in the elastic of her panties. "Well?" she asked. "I don't see you reaching for yours." He did so, saying, "I was too busy marveling. Ready when you are." When they both stood naked by the table, he reached for her, but she allowed him only a quick embrace and a kiss, saying, "Uh-uh. Eat first. Anticipate." Making a show of his vast disappointment as he sat down, Cade said, "I've been anticipating since last night, Debra. I didn't get enough of you then. I probably never could get enough of you." Debra said, "That's so sweet. Now eat. You'll have to keep your strength up." "Were you like this with your husband? If you were, he was crazy to let you go." She smiled and said, "No, I wasn't like this with my husband. Eat." _Know when to shut up_, thought Cade. _Don't ask why she's like this tonight. Don't make her question a damned thing that might make her think about putting her clothes on._ "Well?" she asked, "What do you think?" "You're gorgeous," said Cade. Debra looked slightly exasperated. "I meant your dinner." Cade looked at his plate and took a bite. "Very good," he said, then, "Look, lady, _you_ are all that's on my little mind, okay? You told me to anticipate, and by God, that's what I'm doing. If it were up to me, we'd eat _much_ later." She smiled and said, "Well, it isn't. First we eat, then we bathe. _Then_ we play." _Control_, thought Cade. He remembered how she'd acted when they'd first met. He'd thought that she might have been reacting poorly to having to call for help. Could it be that this was closer to her normal behavior than what he'd been seeing since they'd met? Was this her office persona, finally transposed to deal with matters? He said, "A wet, soapy you. Do you really think I won't be playing until afterward?" "Probably not. Just remember that the main reason people wash is to get clean." Cade aimed a fork at her and said, "You'll be clean, ma'am. Be sure of that." Her smile was answer enough as she took a bite of her meat. A few minutes later, she said, "By the way ... Speaking of washing things, you get to do the dishes if I'm going to do the cooking." "Damn. Dishes are why I eat at restaurants all the time." "What do the cooks wear in restaurants?" Cade leaned to peek under the table at her legs, then let his eyes travel upward to meet hers. "That's a point, Debra. That's definitely a good point." She peered across the table at his napkin, still lying next to his plate, and grinned at him as she asked, "Why isn't your napkin in your lap?" "I think you know why. I don't exactly have a lap at the moment." Her grin became broader as she said, "Oh, good. I'd hate to think that you might lack manners." "Tease me all you want, milady. I'll use my tongue on you later to get even." She nodded. "Sure. You can call that getting even if you want. I don't mind."

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Some moments later, Debra said, "I'll bet you're wondering what happened to the other Debra you knew." Cade shook his head and said, "I was afraid to wonder about that for fear of bringing her back. This Debra is a dream come true. Let's not take any chances." She sipped her drink for a moment, then said, "I've always believed that this Debra was the real one, even though she's only come out a few times. Once with an old boyfriend who went into the Army and once on spring break in Ft. Lauderdale. Just before and during my honeymoon, too, of course. But I've never been able to let her stay out. Not even with my husband." "You really think you have to keep her bottled up?" "I _know_ I have to keep her bottled up, Ed. She'd ruin my life if she ever got loose and stayed loose." Debra smiled slightly, leaned across the table a little, and in a confidential tone, said, "I think she'd _fuck_ herself to death if I let her." It was a statement intended to spur him and Cade knew it, but his dick jumped eagerly anyway when her lips emphasized the word 'fuck'. The wiles of women, and all that stuff. Her breast had dipped too far and touched her food. As she reached for her napkin, he gallantly offered to lick the spot clean for her. She smilingly declined. Cade sat back and sipped his drink, then smiled as he said, "Well, I'll try to make letting her out worth the trouble, Debra." With a smile to match his, she said, "Oh, I know you will, Ed. That's why she's been allowed out. She very much appreciates your appreciation." As he dug into his food, Cade considered matters. He had learned long before to tread softly when people speak of themselves at length in other than the first person and make references to other aspects of their personalities as if those aspects were separate personalities. He wasn't sure that there was really a problem. Some people simply have trouble facing some things about themselves, even while acknowledging a need for them, so they make an effort to maintain a sort of distance from those things. With a few people he'd met, the aspects of personalities seemed to take over from one another like people passing the hat of responsibility back and forth. In some cases, the aspect in current command might profess to remember nothing of what another aspect had done or said, but that degree of separation didn't seem to apply to Debra. Debra's, "You seem awfully quiet all of a sudden," brought him back to the table. "Have I said something that disturbed you, Ed?" "Just thinking," he said. "I do that sometimes." "Good for you," she said. "I've seen that look before, Ed. On my husband." "Did it have to do with letting your genie out of her bottle?" "Yes. He couldn't understand why I couldn't let her out and leave her out, or blend her into myself better." "What did you tell him?" Debra sighed heavily and put her fork down. "Well, I couldn't tell him much about the other few times she'd been out, of course. A husband won't react well to hearing that his brand new wife spent spring break the year before with a couple of male friends in a hotel room. I only told him that I'd found a way to keep the peace within myself and that she only comes out when I want her out." Cade nodded and said, "You've already answered my only question, Debra." "Which was..?" "Whether or not you were schizophrenic. You aren't." With an arched eyebrow, Debra asked, "You aren't just saying that to keep me naked, are you?"

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Cade grinned. "Nope. You said, _'I found a way to keep the peace'_ and _'she only comes out when I want her out'_. A schizophrenic can't usually combine persons in speech like that. You just contain yourself, for whatever reasons." "You're sure about that, are you?" Nodding, Cade said, "I'm sure enough that I don't think I'm taking a chance on hurting you. Tell me I'm wrong about that, though, and I'll get dressed." She shook her head and said, "No, Ed. You aren't wrong. I can let myself go with you and I get damned few chances to do that as a mid-level bureaucrat. Nobody will know that we did any more than hide out in the hills, right?" He met her steady gaze and said, "I'm under no obligation to tell anyone anything about personal matters unless they can or do compromise the mission." For a long moment their eyes remained locked, then Debra said, "Thank you." "You're welcome. I reserve the right to give you a phony name in my memoirs, though." Debra froze in the motion of raising a bit of salad to her mouth and looked at him for a moment, then slowly closed her lips around the tidbit. When she'd chewed and swallowed, she said, "I'll look forward to reading them. _Before_ anyone else." With a grin, Cade said, "I was hoping you'd say that. For that to happen, we'll have to keep in touch, won't we?" She gave him a speculative look and continued eating. After dinner Cade did the dishes, as per their deal, as Debra leaned on the counter nearby and sipped her drink. On one occasion, she plucked some imaginary lint from about two inches above her left nipple, seeming not to notice Cade's eyes track her every move. Another time she used a finger to wipe away a droplet of condensation that had fallen from her glass to her knee. If Cade hadn't noticed her holding the glass above her knee and literally aiming the developing droplet, he might have thought it chance. If he'd had any doubts, her grinning glance at him after bending slightly to touch her knee would have changed his mind. -------*Chapter Twenty-eight* The shower was in one of those bathtubs within an enclosing curtain that had been parked on a tile floor in an alcove. A pipe led upward to a circular shower head that might have been tall enough for a different generation of people, but Cade and Debra discovered that both of them had to duck slightly in order to get completely under it. Tapping the shower head as she soaked her hair, Debra said, "If we have to stay here long, you'll have to raise this a few inches." Reaching for her shampoo bottle on the rack under the shower head, he said, "No argument there. You ready for a shampoo?" Debra turned to see him holding her open shampoo bottle and looked up at him. "First you like combing hair, and now you want to wash it? How come you aren't a hairdresser, Ed?" He gave her a _'that should be obvious'_ sort of look and said, "Look down there between us. This isn't about the hair for me, it's about the woman wearing it, and the typical hairdresser isn't into women at all. A hairdresser would stop when the hair ran out, but not me. No, ma'am. I like to be thorough as hell all the way to the toes, then to check my work a few times." She grinned and said, "I see. So this is like a strict work ethic applied to a favorite hobby, then? Like polishing a fancy car?" "That's right, lady. Go ahead and mock me for caring about the quality of my work. I'll have you know that I only take special cases." He eyeballed the wet blonde standing before him and added, "Like yours.

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That's a damn fine case you have there, ma'am. Worth a bit of extra effort, I'd say." "Well, I'm _so_ glad you think so. Sure, mister, I'll give your wash and wax service a try. What if I'm not satisfied?" "No problem," he said, pouring some shampoo into his hand setting the bottle on the rack. "If I have to, I'll redo the job until you _are_ satisfied. How's that?" Debra squinted as water splashed up from his shoulder and said, "It'll be better than I've had in a very long time, Ed. I've been ... Well, it's been a while, that's all." Cade nodded. "Yeah. Nuff said. You just stand there and look pretty and let me get to work. This could take a while to do right, y'know." As she straightened to stand almost at attention, she asked, "It could, huh?" He spread the shampoo evenly into both his hands, then reached for her head, saying, "Yup. You're a head taller than average. More surface area to wash. I used to charge extra for tall women, but one of 'em filed a discrimination suit." She chuckled and teetered slightly as he worked the soap into her hair, reaching for him to steady herself. Her hands found his chest, then his waist, then they anchored there to provide her support as he worked. "Tell me when you've had enough," said Cade. Without opening her eyes, she asked, "Enough what? Washing?" "Shampooing. When you think your hair's clean enough, let me know." "You can't tell? I thought you were the expert." "I'm an enthusiast. Big difference. Do you want to run out of shampoo tonight or work with me, here?" Smiling, she said, "Oh. I see. Okay, I'll let you know." She let him work for over ten minutes before she reached up to feel her hair and said, "I hate to say it, but it's conditioner time." Cade guided her head so that the water spray rinsed the shampoo out of her hair, then reached for the conditioner bottle. Debra swept her hair out of her face and opened her eyes as he leaned to reach past her and saw his bicep near her face. She kissed it as she reached for it and ran her fingers over his shoulder and arm. As her nails trailed down his arm to his elbow, Cade watched her fascinated gaze follow their progress. Her hand reached below his waist and wrapped around him, then began stroking him. "Uh-uh, lady. First we wash, then we play. Your rules." She smiled up at him. "I need something to hang onto, that's all. A handle, you know? I'm afraid I'll lose my balance. You wouldn't want me to fall, would you?" "Guess not. Just don't make it go off anytime soon, okay?" "Oh, heaven forbid." Cade worked the conditioner into her hair, then Debra picked up the soap and washed him for the several minutes the conditioner required. It seemed that her fascination with his body was no less intent than his fascination with hers. She began with his shoulders and worked her way down to his waist, but her industriousness toward actually getting him clean seemed to peter out as her attention again focused on his 'handle', which accepted her attentions with rigid attention of its own. After some moments of this, Cade said, "I'd hate to waste a shot in a bathtub." She opened her mouth and wriggled her tongue at him, then said, "Don't worry. It won't go to waste." Debra knelt to play with her toy. The things she did to it with her fingers, lips, and tongue were interesting, but they weren't enough so to cause an eruption. Several minutes of this activity went by before Cade lifted a bit of her hair, stiff with drying conditioner, and said, "Maybe it's time

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to rinse." Debra looked up from her efforts and said, "In a minute. Why won't it go off for me?" "It would eventually, Debra, but you probably wouldn't want to stay in the shower that long." "Am I doing something wrong? Is there something else I could do?" "Nope. What you've been doing is fine. Don't worry about it, Debra. That just isn't what really turns me on." Debra let go of her toy and stood up to face him with a quizzical gaze. "That doesn't turn you on?" Cade shrugged. "Sure it does. It wasn't down, was it? That just doesn't turn me on as much as other things." "What other things?" "Things that I could be doing to you. Ready to rinse?" She focused an irritated glance downward at his dick and said, "That isn't normal, Ed. That thing should have gone off by now." He shrugged again and said, "I don't have a better answer, Debra." He guided her head under the spray and rinsed the conditioner out of her hair, then picked up the bar of soap and spent some time scrubbing parts of her as she presented them to him. After working his way down her legs, she turned a few times to rinse thoroughly, ending up facing him as before. Her expression was thoughtful. Cade asked, "You have a question, milady?" She shook her head. "No. Just thinking. My turn. Give me the soap." Debra said nothing as she again began at his shoulders and took her time about washing her way down his body. Her hands and fingernails played over his skin delightfully until she'd reached his ankles, then she stood up again and handed him the soap. "You feel good," she said. "Solid. Strong." She again raked her nails over his skin, this time across his chest, and said, "It's too bad I can't give back what you give me." "You give me plenty," he said. "You just don't have to do anything to do it." "I'm talking about ... Well, I don't think you know how good it feels to be pampered, Ed. To be..." Her words ended without finishing the sentence as her right hand gestured vaguely, then fell to her side. Cade said, "It feels great to have your hands on me, Debra. To have your nails on my skin. It's really nice, but it doesn't reach me the way that being handled and pampered reaches you. I like to do the pampering, that's all. You're supposed to soak it up and revel in it." Debra met his gaze for some moments, then kissed him and said, "I'll go mix a couple of drinks while you finish up in here." He watched her part the curtain and step carefully out of the tub, then he used the bar soap on his hair and rinsed. There were two loud clacks as she opened his big suitcase and some clinking as she removed the bottles of gin and mixer. As Cade stepped from the tub, he saw Debra striding across the living room with the bottles. Her blue robe opened to reveal her fine legs with every step. She'd bundled the bottles into a towel to transport them and her attention was on the task of making sure that none of them escaped the towel during transit. Cade dried himself and wrapped the big towel around his waist, then went to the kitchenette. Debra had put five of the little bottles of bitter lemon mixer in the fridge and was opening the sixth at the counter by the sink. As she reached into the cabinet for glasses, she said, "There isn't any ice. We forgot to fill the trays." "No problem for me. If you want, I'll step outside and harvest a few icicles." "Eew, no. They're roof-runoff, Ed."

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"I saw sandwich baggies in a drawer. Wrap a chunk and dunk it." She shook her head. "I can survive a warm drink. You could fill the trays, though, while I make the drinks." "Done," he said, opening the freezer compartment of the fridge. She was definitely bugged about something, but Cade didn't ask what because he thought she'd probably bring it up fairly soon. He didn't have to wait long. As he placed the two freshly-filled ice trays in the freezer, she took her drink to the table and sat down, then tapped a fingernail on the table for a moment. Cade took his drink to the table and pulled out a chair, watching her finger tap the table as he sat down. Sipping his drink, he found it was slightly strong. "Sorry," she said. "I had to guess at how much was a shot." He took another sip and said, "No problem." Debra simply looked at him for some moments, then asked, "Why didn't you go off in the shower? What is it, Cade? Some kind of control thing?" He shook his head. "More like cause and effect, I think." Her gaze narrowed as she said, "Explain, please." "Well, early on I discovered that when I go off, my enthusiasm dips sharply for a while; that a few squirts could cause a time-out. I didn't like that at all. I also discovered that women don't seem to have that problem, Debra, and that mining their pleasures was vastly more fun than just sticking myself in and shooting a wad. It wasn't a conscious decision on my part; something inside me just locks down, I guess." "But what if I want you to come, Ed? Ever think of that?" "No. I just told you; this isn't something I think about. It's just something that happens." After a moment, she asked, "Doesn't that make things kind of one-way?" Cade sipped his drink as he pondered an answer that would end the discussion. He finally said, "You didn't mind the one-way-ness of things at all last night, and you're the first ever to complain about it, Debra. I like things the way they are, so don't try to fix what isn't broken." For some moments, she just continued to look at him, then she said, "But..." "_No,_" said Cade, interrupting her. "No. There are no buts, Debra. Drop it." Her gaze turned into a simmering glare. "You're saying that we can't even discuss it?" He shook his head. "No. You either like it or not. You don't try to change it." Debra sat very still for a few moments, then got up and went to the bathroom, taking her drink with her. After several minutes passed, Cade got up from the table and took his drink to the bedroom, draping his towel on the door rack as he passed the bathroom. He got into bed, turned on the bedside lamp, and opened his book. Most of his drink and several pages later, he heard Debra leave the bathroom. There'd been no sound of flushing. She came to the bedroom door and silently looked at him for a few moments, then came to pick up his glass from the night table. "Want another drink?" she asked. "I'm making myself one." Cade actually had to think about that. He found that he was more in a mood for coffee than booze, but if she was trying to smooth things over a bit...? He looked up at her and said, "Yeah, thanks. That'd be nice." She nodded, said, "Back in a minute," and left with his glass. When Debra came back, she put his glass on the night table and stood looking down at him for a moment, one hand on her hip. Her robe fell slightly open, allowing Cade a view of her legs. "Thanks," said Cade, his attention on the expanse of skin revealed by

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the robe. Her chuckle made him look up at her face. With a grin and a twist of her shoulders, Debra's robe fell to the floor around her feet. "How about making last night happen again?" she asked. Cade put his book on the floor by the bed and let the motion end with his hand on her inner right thigh. His fingers trailed slowly upward until they nudged the apex, then he tickled her lightly. Dampness. He removed his hand and made a grinning show of licking her musky dampness off his finger, then said, "I'd like that, Debra. I really would." -------*Chapter Twenty-nine* During their first week in Trier, Cade and Debra weren't seen much outside their apartment unless they were walking to dinner at one of the nearby restaurants. After their initial heat had dissipated somewhat, they began acting like tourists, taking in the sights of the region and traveling by bus, train, or taxi. He held her when they made love and held her just as tightly when her tears weren't enough to ease her pain of loss, such as during their second week in Trier, when they'd seen a young blonde woman running for a bus on the other side of the Mosel river. She could have been Sandy's twin sister. Debra had held herself together as they canceled the day's outing and returned to the apartment, then all of her seams ripped at once. Cade had no idea how to handle such grief, so he generally kept quiet and simply held her when she'd allow it. After a long, exhausting day of tears, a few gins were all it took to put her to bed for the night. Cade read a while in the other room, then went to bed, but Debra's proximity kept him from drifting off to sleep. He went to the couch, draped a towel over the lamp to shield her from its brightness and continued reading until he fell asleep. The following day she had seemed somewhat distant and uncommunicative. Cade simply tried to be available for her without being any more than that, taking care of some routine maintenance on the car and helping the landlady's nearby sister bring some boxes up from her basement. That night Cade again slept on the couch. Three such days of distance between them passed and Cade had seen no reason during the third day to believe that the third night would be any different, but as he took a pillow from the bed for the couch that evening, Debra stopped him and returned the pillow to the bed with a shake of her head. "No," she said. "I'm ... I'm better now, I think." Cade studied her for a moment, the said, "If you find out later that you aren't, let me know, Deb. Don't just go through with it." After a moment, she nodded slightly and said, "Thank you." Their lovemaking that night began rather tentatively. Debra's single cresting wasn't the explosion he'd come to anticipate, but it did occur, and it seemed to surprise her. She admitted later that she'd simply wanted him with her; that not having him in the bed had become foreign to her. He chided her lightly about conning him into her bed under false pretenses and managed to get a giggle out of her. After filling the Chevy's tank and having the oil changed at a gas station in town, Cade started the Chevy every few days and ran it for a few minutes to keep it ready for use. When the landlady asked why they didn't use their car for some of their touring, Cade gave her a vague answer that inferred that they were immersing themselves in the local culture rather than importing their own. Every Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday they would walk to the newsstand at the bottom of the hill, arrive around eleven and buy a London Times, and then spend an hour or so at a nearby coffee shop over pastries. No ad had appeared by Friday, the fifteenth of December, and Debra was becoming unsettled. "What?" asked, Cade, mocking astonishment. "I'm not enough for you anymore? Oh, hell, the honeymoon's over, isn't it?"

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Debra tried to give him a droll look around a mouthful of pastry and failed. A moment later, she was able to speak again. "I'm not used to doing nothing for weeks at a time," she said. "I miss my office and I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever see it again. Do I even still have an office?" "Bet you thought you were indispensable, huh? Let the mantle of responsibility weigh heavy on someone else for a while yet, Deb. There are still a few tourist traps around here that we haven't seen." She sighed. "I'm getting a little tired of touring every day, Ed." "Not every day. Only two or three times a week." "You know what I mean. There are things that need to be done, and I'm not there to do them. I need to get back." He looked up from his own pastry. "Deb, I know it seems like we've been here for ages already, but it hasn't really been that long. If it was safe to go back, we'd have seen the ad we've been watching for." She sighed again and said, "You could call in." "Could. Won't. That's not how it works, Deb." Debra flashed to anger, then subsided a bit as she said, "That guy's probably dead or in prison by now. I can't believe that the situation could go on this long." "I can. I've seen them go on a lot longer over less." Her anger returned, but she capped it and managed to keep her tone flat, if somewhat cold as she said, "Damn it, I have family even if you don't, Ed. Christmas is only two weeks away. They'll be frantic if they don't hear from me." Cade shook his head. "They'll get over it when you tell them what's been going on." Debra glared at him for a few moments, then asked, "You won't even risk a quick call to John for an update?" "No. Being unfindable is your best defense for now, Debra. We'll wait for the ad." It had to be that day and that moment, of course, when the blonde girl who had set Debra off almost two weeks before entered the already crowded coffee shop with a small horde of other lunchtime patrons. Debra's back was to the entrance, so she didn't see the girl come in, but Cade did. He hoped that she'd simply take her order and go, as did many of the shop's lunch patrons. She didn't. The girl looked around the dining area and checked her watch, then took her tray of coffee and a pastry to one of the tiny tables near the door. As soon as the man who was sitting there got up, the girl sat down. She still sat well out of Debra's range of vision, but if Debra so much as looked out the window, she'd see her. Debra had picked up her fork and sheared off a bit of pastry, then changed her mind about eating it. She put her fork down, looked up at Cade as if to say something, and then froze, apparently staring just past his face. After a moment of pale shock, she turned to look at the girl by the door. Belatedly, Cade remembered the baroque-framed mirror on the dining room's west wall. _Oh, well,_ thought Cade. _Some things are plain damned unavoidable. Now what?_ Tears welled in Debra's eyes. She turned to face Cade and used her napkin to dab her eyes, then glanced toward the washrooms and excused herself. Cade watched her get up and make her way among the tables, thread herself through the small crowd in the entranceway who were waiting to be served, and then turn the corner into the washroom alcove. _Probably won't be out of there for half an hour,_ he thought. _Time enough for the girl to eat and leave._ He took his time about his own pastry and sipped coffee as he studied the girl by the door, wondering what had brought her across town. The resemblance was uncanny. She could have been Debra twenty years before. Or her

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daughter. The girl looked up and saw him looking at her. When she smiled, the image was broken. Not the same smile. Nice, but not the same. He returned her smile and then glanced back at his paper. The girl checked her watch every few minutes as she ate. Nearly fifteen minutes later she put her empty tray on the return counter and hurried out of the shop. Another five minutes passed. Cade asked one of the waitresses to tell the blonde woman in the washroom that it was time to go. She returned to the table a few moments later to tell him that there had been no blonde woman in the washroom. A quick check of the shop turned up no Debra. Cade left the shop and looked long and hard up and down the sidewalks, but he didn't really expect to see her. He tried to think of where she might go in particular if she wasn't simply walking blindly. She knew how to get back to the apartment, but it was a fifteen minute walk up a hill at the very least and would be the last place he looked for her. He knew that she had money in her purse, so a taxi wasn't out of the question, but she'd been pissed at him, pissed at her situation, and in need of reassurances. It seemed likely to Cade that she'd call either her offices or John in an attempt to end her exile. Maybe both. After seeing that girl, maybe she'd feel a need to call her family or her ex-husband? The Bundespost office was just two blocks up the street. Cade started jogging in that direction. He was still a block away when a taxi pulled up in front of the Bundespost office and Debra came out to get into the cab. As the taxi pulled away from the curb and headed up the hill toward the apartment, Cade looked around for another taxi. No such luck. Traffic along Olewigerstrasse was as heavy as usual. Facing the traffic, Cade pulled a twenty-mark note out of his wallet and held it in the air with his left hand as he stuck out his right thumb. Only a few minutes passed before a Volkswagen beetle driven by a guy in his twenties stopped. "Where are you going?" the guy asked. Cade pointed up hill and said, "About five kilometers." The guy nodded and said, "No problem. Get in." Cade did so, but when he tried to hand the guy the twenty, he refused it. "I'd have stopped for you anyway," he said. "Others have stopped for me when this hound of a car wouldn't run." Looking at the parking decal in the left windshield, Cade asked, "You're a student?" "Yes." "Take the twenty. Spend it on your lady and call it a contribution to higher education." The guy laughed and took the twenty. A couple of minutes later he dropped Cade at the apartment house. Cade saw Debra walk past a window and headed up the stairs waving his thanks to his benefactor as the Volkswagen turned around to leave. As he entered the apartment, he saw Debra in the bedroom, putting things into her suitcases. Moving to stand by the bedroom door, he asked, "Who'd you call, Deb?" Without stopping her packing, she said, "My office. Everybody's fine, and strangely enough, nobody's heard anything about anyone looking for me." "That's because nobody's asking. They're just watching for you." She glanced up at him and said, "Right. They want to find me, but they aren't asking anyone who might know where I might have gone?" "You got it. They're quietly watching for you. For me, too. Did you think to call my office and talk to John?" She stopped packing and stood straight. "Yes," she snapped. "I did, actually, and guess what? There-is-no-crisis, Ed. There never was. Karl Teffler isn't anywhere near

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Germany. Gloria said he's been in Libya all this time. _He-never-left-Libya, dammit!_" "Gloria said that, did she? Did you talk to John or Linda?" "I talked to the woman who runs their damned office, Ed. It's the same thing." Cade stepped forward and stopped very close to her. "No, Debra. It isn't the same thing. Not at all. Until I get the all-clear from John or Linda, it isn't over." Debra's gaze narrowed and her teeth clenched. In a low tone, she said, "Well, by God, it's over for _me_, Ed. I'm going back. _Now_. For all I know, you could have been doing nothing more than keeping me here as a goddamned sex-toy." "You know better than that," he said. "I'll talk to the landlady, then get packed. Put some coffee on for the road when you're finished, there." Cade could tell that she'd been prepared to get into a screaming match if he argued with her. Short of tying her up and gagging her, there wasn't much he could do if she wouldn't listen to him, and she definitely wasn't in a listening mood. Before he left the room, he turned to say, "Oh, by the way, Ms. McAlister... _Don't_ pack your gun. You'll be wearing it." -------*Chapter Thirty* Cade told the landlady that something had come up and that she could keep the remaining rent money. She made only a token argument before he went outside to uncover the car and start it to let it warm up. When he went back upstairs, the landlady was talking with Debra. As Cade packed, the landlady looked the apartment over, most likely for damage and missing items. Cade took their bags to the car and returned, filled the thermos, poured himself a cup of coffee, and sat down at the table to study his maps. The landlady had quickly satisfied herself that all was well and left. Debra poured her own cup of coffee and sat down across from Cade. "Well?" she asked. "When do we leave?" "Soon. We won't get there before seven or so, you know. The smart thing to do would be to stay one more night and get an early start." Debra's tense glare accompanied her words. "Oh, hell, you'd love that, wouldn't you? Another night of screwing me before you have to let me go, right?" Cade shrugged, met her glare, and said, "Sure. That, too. But I'd still rather leave in the morning. Mountain roads. Old car. Snow. Ice. Possible flat tires. Other troubles." Debra shook her head. "No. I want to be _in_ K-town _tonight._" Folding the map, Cade said, "Show me your revolver." Debra went to the bed and pulled the gun and holster out from under her jacket, then brought it to Cade. He flicked open the revolver, checked the loads, then handed it back to her before he started taking his .45 apart. "What the hell are you doing?" asked Debra. "Putting a little oil on things and thinking. Did you happen to tell anyone where we were?" "Yes. I didn't think it would matter, since I was leaving. With or without you." "Uh, huh. Jesus. Just drink your damned coffee." Sitting across from him, she sharply asked, "What's the big deal, Cade?" He sighed. "It helps to know which direction to watch. There's only one main road between here and there, so now they know. Please tell me just _one_ more thing, McAlister. Tell me that you _didn't_ tell anyone what we're driving, okay?" After a moment, she said, "I told Gloria about how you paid a thousand dollars to rent a car you could buy for a lot less."

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_Yeah, that figures. It just fucking figures._ He nodded as he wiped light machine oil on moving parts and reassembled the gun, then popped the first few rounds out of each magazine and reloaded them as he asked, "Did Gloria -- or anyone else, for that matter -- tell you to call when you got in?" Debra looked both surprised and quizzical. "No. Why would she? She knew I'd be getting home after office hours." Cade shoved the .45 in its holster and looked at her for a moment. "Home, huh? Our outfit is open twenty-four hours. We have people in the field who may need help, so there's always somebody by the phone. Think about it. Why wouldn't Gloria ask you to check in, if only to be sure that you made it home?" "I ... I don't know. She knows _you_, Cade. She..." "Crap. You said you'd get there on your own, if necessary. She knew it wouldn't be necessary. You told her about the car. You told her we were in Trier, so even if I didn't cooperate, there'll be people watching the trains." Debra stood up, raising her hands in protest. "Oh, come on, Ed. Gloria works directly for John. Surely you can't..?" Cade cut in with, "I trust John, Linda, and me, and if it weren't for a couple of things I'm not going to discuss with you, I'd probably only trust _me_." After helping her adjust the fit of her shoulder holster, Cade said, "That's it. Time to hit the road." On the way down the hill into Trier, Cade stopped at the Bundespost office to call Frederich Hart's office. He stood Debra next to the phone as he dialed and told her to stay there and stay quiet. Hart was surprised to hear from him. "Ed!" said Freddy, "We just received word that we're to watch for you and escort you once you're within our jurisdiction." "Word from whom, Freddy?" "Our Bonn offices were notified that you'd be bringing Ms. McAlister back from Trier this evening. We are to take her into protective custody." "Well, I hope you get the chance to do that, Freddy. How's the guy I shot?" "He's alive and in a prison cell. He was arraigned last week. That's why I was so surprised to hear from you. Why are you calling me from Trier, Ed?" "I don't think we're meant to make it to K-town, Freddy. I think something's supposed to happen on the way. Do you know where Karl Teffler is at this moment?" "No, Ed. I do not. Nobody else seems to know where he is, either." "Thought so. Do you know Debra McAlister personally?" "I've never had the pleasure of meeting her, Ed. I've heard she is beautiful." "You heard right. I was going to put her on and let you tell her what you told me, but I don't think she's in a mood to believe us. Let me check." Cade turned to Debra and asked, "What about it? Want to hear what the second in command of the Kaiserslautern police has to say about things?" After a moment's hesitation, Debra said, "That could be _anybody_. Another one of your friends, playing along with you." Freddy said, "I heard her. What are you going to do, Ed?" Cade said, "I'll bring her back. She won't settle for less right now." "The police in Trier could take her off your hands." Debra shook her head. "I'm going home. Tonight." "She heard you, Freddy," said Cade. "Her answer's no, and at this point, I'm inclined to go along with her. I'll just bring her in and hand her over to John. You can take matters from there. Thanks. Bye. Oh, hey, Freddy?" "Yes, Ed?" "I won't be stopping until I get to the office parking garage. Thanks, again, Freddy. Bye."

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Before Freddy could say anything else, Cade hung up. His next call was to John's office. Gloria answered. "It's Ed," said Cade. "Is John available?" "No, Ed, he left for Bonn around noon. Where..?" "What about Linda? Where's she?" "Linda's in Mannheim. She said she'd probably be back in time to close up tonight, though. Are you still in Tr..?" "McAlister says that you said it was safe to come in. Is that true?" "Are you going to interrupt me again or let me finish a sentence?" "Did you tell her that?" "You're still calling her McAlister after three weeks with her?" "Yes or no, Gloria. Did you tell her to come in?" "I told her that it was ultimately up to her to decide whether to remain in hiding." "Uh, huh. Just so you know, Gloria, I'm not thrilled about this. I'm calling a few other people to confirm things." "You're _what?_ Ed, this is strictly agency..." "Hey, Gloria." "_What, damn it?_" "I just interrupted you again because you're spewing bullshit." With that, Cade slammed the receiver into its cradle. Debra came away from the wall fast, her expression one of alarm and outrage. "Why the _hell_ did you do that!?" Cade gave her a cold look and said, "You just get in the goddamned car before I put your ass on a train and tell everybody you took off on your own." He then turned and went to pay the Bundespost clerk for the calls. When he finished and headed to the car, Debra was still inside the office doors. He pushed the doors open and walked out without holding the doors for her, then got in the car. She came out and stood next to the driver's door for a moment before saying, "Maybe I _should_ take the train. In fact, maybe I should take a taxi to the train station from here. If you'll open the trunk, I'll get my things." Cade started the car and put it in gear, then said, "Shut up and get in the car, McAlister. Didn't you _hear_ anything? Didn't you _understand_ anything? In the short time since you called Gloria, someone in fucking _Bonn_ has told the K-town cops to meet us on the road. That means that the order went through all the usual hands and channels, so half the free world now knows where to find us. _Who told them that we were coming in?_ And if the problem is over, _why!?_ Tell me that, McAlister! Why do we need a goddamned police escort if there's no danger? Are we celebrities, now? Or are you just so hot to get away from me that your brain's gone completely out of gear?" For a long few moments, she simply stood in the cold breeze staring at him, then she walked around the car, opened the door, and got in. Cade pulled away from the curb, going with the traffic until he could turn around, then headed back the way they'd come until they reached the road to Kaiserslautern. Perhaps five minutes passed until she said, "Maybe we could go somewhere else, Ed. You still have some of that money left, don't you?" Cade shook his head and sighed. "Well, hot day-um! Suddenly I'm not just being paranoid anymore. Say we hide somewhere else. The cops will figure that something happened to us. That's what they'll be _told_ to figure. They'll be looking for us. For you in particular. We won't be able to set foot outside wherever we hide, and when the money runs out, then what?" "We have those fake passports. We can use them to get out of the country." "Yeah? Maybe on a rubber raft out of Bremerhaven. If they declare someone who's technically a US diplomat missing and possibly _kidnapped_, you'll be page one news. You can bet that every reservation desk will have a picture of you. Every border post. Every damned ticket window and gas station. Jesus, woman. You're a head or more taller than most women and taller than a lot of men. You're beautiful, and you have a distinctive face. Public

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transportation _isn't_ gonna be the way to go." "I thought you were someone who knew how to get past borders. That's what you usually do, isn't it?" "My clients aren't usually being actively hunted by everydamnbody on both sides of the border we're trying to cross. They're usually relatively sane and rational people, too, not..." "Not what?" "Never mind. Ranting is a waste. I'm just going to get you back to K-town and hand you over to whoever has the biggest goddamned badge." For some moments, Debra sat silently, staring out the window, then she asked, "If they'd do all that to find me, why haven't they done it already?" Cade glanced at her after taking the turn to get on the Autobahn on-ramp. "They couldn't," he said. "John indirectly made real sure that too many people knew that I'd taken you into hiding, so the political players had to wait until somebody broke cover. If Teffler had been spotted in the area, that would have precipitated a fairly useful state of emergency. Our showing ourselves would have worked just as well, and probably has. One call, McAlister. Your call. Now every cop and politician in West Germany and NATO can go on red alert and stand by for the signal to go hunting for terrorists and druggies." "But why would Gloria...?" "Oh, come _on_, damn it. She came to us from another office and skipped two pay grades in the process. The only way out of our little group is _sideways_. A transfer. John's at the top of our ladder. Linda's number two. Field people like me are rung three. Everybody else is under us, and there are only five rungs on that whole damned ladder. Gloria made a deal with somebody, and if she can deliver you she winds up a little higher on someone else's ladder a week from now." -------*Chapter Thirty-one* Cade listened to the engine in the ensuing silence. It sounded good. The Chevy's 350 engine had been the horsepower bane of Lissa's insurance rates. Cade had cleaned the plugs and points and changed the gas filter both on general principles and as a way to keep busy during Debra's days of depression. The road ahead was relatively clear of traffic and had been well cleared of ice and snow. He put his foot to the floor and the 350 screamed as the Rochester four-barrel carburetor opened fully and sucked vast amounts of air into the engine. Even at fifty miles per hour the front of the car tried to lift itself off the ground as they shot forward. Near seventy the passing gear disengaged and the screaming under the hood quieted. Debra screamed, "_Whatthehellareyoudoing!?_" and Cade grinned hugely. Her trepidation was very satisfying, under the circumstances. He let off the gas around eighty and smiled at her as they backed down to around sixty. "Just checking my work," he said. "Buckle up and stay that way. It's about seventy miles to K-town." "I hate seat belts," she said, staring straight ahead into the gathering darkness. "I wasn't asking how you felt about them. Until you get out of this car, stay buckled. We may pick up some company along the way." She took her eyes off the road long enough to face him as she asked, "Company?" "People like Teffler have lines into government offices. They couldn't function or travel without them. Figure that Teffler knows whatever the cops and 'crats know." "Can't we take some other road? Can't we..." "There is only one road if we don't go off on the side roads and farm trails that aren't even on the map. The Germans are very efficient, McAlister. Only one main road was necessary."

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"_Dammit!_" she shrieked. "_Stop calling me that!_ You've been using my first name for almost a month! Why not now?" "That was then. Before you made that call and blew things up. This is now. I tell you to do something as simple as buckle your damned seat belt and you give me shit about it. I can't rely on you, McAlister. I have to guard you, but I can't rely on you. I prefer to keep some distance from people I can't trust." "And you think that using my last name is putting some kind of distance between us? Are you nuts?" "Not if it works. Buckle up and shut up, McAlister. I'm busy." Cade gave some thought to what might lay ahead. No telling how long it would take Teffler to get himself and a few cars in place along the road, but between fifteen and thirty minutes was likely. The intersection of two Autobahns occurred just south of Landstuhl. Four directions of escape there; one of which led straight to very-nearby France. He probably wouldn't want to deal with... Scratch that. He wouldn't give a damn about the cops. His flankers would take care of them, just as they had in Turkey when he'd ambushed a seven-car convoy to kill one man. The only question was whether or not Teffler would risk killing Debra, and the answer was simple. If he couldn't get her, he wouldn't want her getting away, either. Deep in his little black heart, he'd know that any sort of diplomat would do as well. Still ... If he could pull it off before the K-town cops became involved ... There was a tankstelle between Kaiserslautern and Trier, but it was over half an hour from either city unless you pushed a bit. Cade took the Chevy up to eighty and held it there, much to Debra's distress. He slowed for some of the sharper curves, but otherwise didn't let up. The Rochester carb didn't have a turbocharger, but every time he looked, the gas gauge had fallen just a bit farther. As the needle reached the three-quarter mark, the signs for the tankstelle appeared. Unlike most US gas stations, which are located off the highway, it was located between the lanes in the median. Cade let the engine drag their speed down until braking for the off-ramp became necessary, then steered them next to the gas pumps and opened his road map to the region. It looked as if the soonest they could expect to see Kaiserslautern cops would be in the vicinity of Niedermohr, which was on the jurisdictional line. There was no reason to expect cops anywhere along the way to have been told to watch for or escort them; that would have screwed up the possibility of a nice, clean, preprogrammed incident. There was a long curve in the Autobahn between Ehweiler and Huffler. Even if the cops ranged a little farther than the Niedermohr area, the curve would block their line-of-sight observation of the Autobahn. Unusual activity on the road... Debra asked, "Cade, what the hell are we doing? You didn't need a road map before." _That's where I'd do it,_ thought Cade, ignoring her. _Three or four lanes. Almost no traffic at this hour. A roadblock or three or four vehicles. Disable and stop them._ "Cade?" "It's a gas station. We're getting some gas." He got out and set the gas pump running as he opened the hood. Oil okay. Water a bit low. He filled the overflow bottle with straight antifreeze and put the antifreeze bottle back in the trunk just as the pump handle kicked off. He milked the pump until the gas showed near the filler opening, then hung the handle back on the pump. Cade went in to pay for the gas. When he returned, he got in the car without a word and started it, put it in gear, then stopped between the mercury vapor lights in the parking area and reached for the thermos. Debra shook her head in confusion.

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"Why did we stop again? Are you going to tell me what's going on, Ed?" He poured from the thermos to warm up the coffee in his mug and said, "Nothing's going on yet. I'm going to have some coffee before we pull out. Want some?" She picked up the thermos cup-lid and held it out for some. As he poured coffee into the cup, she asked, "Then why do you look as if you're getting ready for war?" Cade showed her the curve on the map and said, "See that road to Pfeffelbach that crosses under the Autobahn just above that big curve? If anyone's going to try something at the curve, they'll probably be waiting there. They could try a roadblock or try to box us in or disable us." Debra looked up at him in abject disbelief. "Yeah. Thought so," said Cade. "You still don't quite have a handle on things, do you? Just shoot if you see anyone raise a weapon or if I tell you to. No arguments. No talk. Just do it. If you don't think you can do that, give me your gun. You've seen me load the .45, right?" When she said nothing for a moment, he sharply said, "_Hey!_ Answer me!" She jumped, then said, "Yes. I've seen you do it." He showed her how to push the button to release the clip, then how to seat a new clip with a sharp rap and push the lever that let the slide snap forward. "That's all," he said. "It'll be ready to use then." Cade emptied the gun and removed the round from the chamber, then handed it to her and said, "Show me you can do it." She put the clip in, rapped it, and thumbed the slide release. The slide slammed home and seated a round from the clip. It was ready to fire. Cade took the weapon from her, dropped the clip, added the loose round to it, and then put the clip back in the gun. "You've got it," he said. "Now we finish our coffees and go." "You're really expecting trouble, aren't you?" "I am. I wouldn't be disappointed if we managed to just drive into town, though." "Why at the curve? Why not somewhere else?" He gazed at her for a moment, wondering how she'd take his answer. "Because that's where I'd do it. Out of sight and jurisdiction of the Kaiserslautern cops, halfway up the side of a mountain. Little or no traffic. Dark." With a deep sigh, Debra asked, "Isn't there anyone we can call, Ed? Anyone?" "Sure. Local cops. The Bahn Polizi. The US agencies. They're all run by bureaucrats who want a major drug war. You can also bet that Teffler and company will know if they're sent. Or, for that matter, if they aren't sent, or are maybe sent too late to be helpful." "That doesn't make any sense. Why _wouldn't_ they send help?" "They still need a diplomatic martyr to get the big ball rolling." Debra regarded Cade very skeptically and said, "I still don't believe that part of it." He grunted a small chuckle and sipped his coffee. Debra's skeptical look turned to one of irritation. Cade said, "Study up on a certain fruit company that still runs Guatemala and how it survived the late fifties. Examine governmental changes in Nicaragua in the sixties. The Bay of Pigs screwup was sponsored by _who?_ And how about three dead freedom riders found in a station wagon in the deep south; students who had been specifically _sent_ there on federal money? They gave the US government the much-needed excuse to officially step in and prevent a racial civil war in the US that had been expected to start at any time within that year. That was the closest we've come to true martial law since the last civil war, lady. Idealistic martyrs are the cheapest, most widely available political catalyst. When martyrs aren't waiting in line to be

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used, they're created on the fly. You about finished with your coffee, there?" She plainly wasn't convinced, but she asked, "Uhm ... If you really think they're out there, why be in a hurry to find them?" Cade grinned and drained his mug. "What the hell are you smiling about, Ed?" "First _you_ were in a hurry. Now you're not." "You think that's funny?" "Yeah, I think that's funny. I'm going to take a leak before we go. If you think you'll have to pee in the next hour or so, now's the time to do it." As he walked to the outbuildings to the right of the walkway, Cade checked his watch. They'd been on the road for almost forty minutes. Add the time since her call. The possibility of having company on the road was getting pretty good, really. He heard Debra get out of the car behind him and head for the outbuildings to his left. Two cars pulled into the tankstelle. One headed for the gas pumps and the other headed for the parking lot. While one guy pumped gas, the other dropped the seat in his green Saab to a reclining position and appeared to be preparing to nap. Cade stepped into the washroom and quickly let some of the coffee out, then walked back outside. Debra had finished first and was heading back to the car. He followed her at a distance, pausing at the sheltered map board as if interested. Once inside the alcove, he ducked under the back wall and circled within the bushes until he was standing about twenty feet behind and to the right of their Chevy. Debra had gotten back into the Chevy. The Saab started almost instantly and began moving forward, then turned in a tight circle and headed straight for the Chevy. As it passed under the lights, Cade could see that there were now two people visible in the Saab. He took the .45 out of its holster and waited. The guy pumping gas seemed only vaguely aware that someone was cutting circles in the parking lot. Cade saw him wave at the guy inside the station, then point toward the parkplatz, a motion that identified him as a non-participant. The Saab screeched to a halt next to the Chevy and both the driver and passenger got out in a hurry. One ran around to Debra's side of the car and pointed a gun at her as the other headed for the driver's door. Cade took the guy on the driver's side first with a round that caught him in the chest and knocked him flat. The other guy looked in the direction of the gunfire just in time to see the flash of the shot that slammed him away from the car and laid him on his back. The gas-pumper had either hidden by the pumps or run inside. Debra had gotten flat on the seat to avoid the grasping hands of the guy on her side. Seeing no other motion, either on the road or near them, Cade got into the Chevy and started it, then drove it onto the foliage-covered service walkway behind the station. A quick check showed that he couldn't see either of the Autobahn roadways through the bushes and could only see a little of the parking lot behind the car. Good enough. "Out," he said. "We lock it and leave it." Debra shakily got out, then reached back for her purse. Cade quickly locked both doors and led her to the Saab. He picked up the gun that had been aimed at Debra and tossed it onto the driver's side floor of the Saab. The keys were in the car. After installing her in the Saab, he dragged the two bodies deep into the bushes, then returned to the car and started it. In a tremulous voice, Debra asked, "What about our things?" Cade said, "They'll be here later." -------*Chapter Thirty-two* He backed up enough to turn onto the onramp and they were doing ninety kph before they reached the Autobahn roadway. Cade checked the dash readings. Three-quarters full of gas. Temp normal. The brakes had seemed okay when he'd

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backed up. The engine sounded good. Steering was solid. Debra was trembling and staring at him when he glanced at her. "You okay?" he asked. She made no reply until he reached across and slapped her upper arm. "_Are-you-okay, dammit?_" Debra yelped, grabbed her bicep, and screeched, "_Yes!_ Yes, I'm okay! Don't hit me!" "Tighten up, lady. We're going to see if we can get past them in one of their own cars. If anyone tries to stop us, shoot him. Or her, as the case may be. Can you do that?" "I ... I think so." _Yeah. Right,_ thought Cade. _Hope you don't shoot yourself or me._ He turned on the dome light and asked, "Do you see anything on the back seat or anywhere else? A gun? A radio? Have a good look around the car." A minute or so later, she said, "There's something under the seat," and worked an Uzi machine pistol into the open between her feet. Cade reached across and pushed it flat in her lap, then hooked a thumb on the charging knob by feel. He pulled it back, then glanced at it. Brass. The sucker had a round in the chamber. "Keep your finger _off_ the trigger. Find the side button and drop the clip. There's a slot in the side of the clip. See if the rounds go all the way to the bottom." A moment later he heard the clacking, sliding release and the magazine fell into her lap. Debra turned the magazine over under the dome light, then said, "It looks full." "Good deal. Put the clip back in and make sure it locks." She had to turn the clip once to make it go in, then slid it in place until it locked. Cade took the weapon and checked the safety. Off. Good. He laid the ugly little gun in his lap and glanced at Debra with a small grin. "Congratulations, ma'am. You're getting much better at following instructions. Now grope around and see if there's any more ammo for this thing. It'll eat that clip in a few seconds." Debra felt around below her seat and found another loaded magazine. She held it up and checked the side. "It's full, too," she said. "Hang onto it. Get the gun on the floor on my side, then check under my seat if you can." She retrieved the gun and laid it on his lap with the Uzi as she felt under his seat. He could tell from the outline that it was either a Beretta 92 or a Taurus clone of one. Debra said, "There's a box, but I can't get it out." "Try it from the back seat. The seats recline. Handle's on the side. Let yours down and see what you can find back there." She did so and spent a few moments feeling around, then handed up another magazine for the pistol. Cade took it and put it in his lap. A moment later something twanged under his seat and Debra sat up again with a box of ammunition. He nodded and drove on in silence. Almost ten minutes had passed before they reached the Pfeffelbach exit above the curve. There was a car on the side of the road with its hood up just before the exit. Cade handed the guns in his lap to Debra and pulled up behind the car -- a white four-door Ford -- with the Beretta in his hand. Debra asked, "Why are we stopping?" "Later," said Cade. The guy standing by the car walked toward them. As he saw the blonde sitting in the front seat, the guy's face brightened and he stepped up to the car while saying in German, "Good! You got her! How..?" His words clipped off as he saw the pistol pointing at his face. "Stay right there," said Cade in German. To Debra he said, "Your gun. Aim it at him. if he moves, kill him." She drew the revolver and pointed it at the guy. Cade opened his door

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without taking his eyes or his aim off the guy beyond her window, then quickly stepped out of the car and resumed aiming at him over the roof of the car as he closed the door. With two guns pointing at him, the guy stood still as Cade came around the car. Staying out of Debra's line of fire, he reached to shove the guy's coat back and take another Beretta out of the guy's belt holster and hand it to Debra. "Your wallet," said Cade. "Hand it to me." The guy did so and Cade riffled through it. Hans Mueller, of Bremen. "You're a little far from home," said Cade. "If you're polizi, prove it." The guy remained sullenly silent. Cade could tell he was close to trying something. He tossed the guy's wallet back at him. As the guy caught it, Cade slammed the Beretta into his temple. The guy collapsed. Cade dragged him to the passenger side of the Ford and put him in the back seat, then went around to the driver's door. The Ford started instantly when Cade turned the key. He left it running and went back to the Saab for Debra and the guns. After installing Debra in the back seat of the Ford, he gave her one of the Berettas and told her to put her revolver away. "The safety's off. If he starts to wake up, you can hit him, shoot him, or tell me. Whatever you do, don't fuck around about it. Do it instantly. Keep him propped up on the far side of the car." In a small voice, Debra answered, "Okay." "Make me believe you." In a stronger voice, she said, "Okay," but she didn't sound convincing. "You can do it, right?" "Yes. _Yes_, damn it, but why are you bringing him with us?" "We may get a chance to talk to him about Teffler." Cade slammed the hood shut and got in. Full tank, everything normal. He laid the guns and ammo on the seat, put the car in gear, and pulled away from the Saab. Soon they were doing over one-twenty kph toward Kaiserslautern. "Ed, why did we switch cars again? Why didn't we just keep going?" "The Saab was a snatch car. It was supposed to be dumped fast. If we run into any more baddies on the Autobahn, they'll be expecting this car." "How do you know that?" "Same courses, different schools." A car coming the other way flashed its high beams twice. Cade checked his headlights, but they weren't on high beams. He flashed them high once. The other car hit the brakes. Cade saw it turn around and come after them just as they passed a median crossover point. Debra had also watched the other car go by. She almost screamed, "It turned around! It's coming after us on the other side!" "Yup. Saw that." "What are we going to do?" "Well, we could turn on the radio, I guess." "_What!?_" "We can't stop them from coming after us, so there's not much else we _can_ do except keep driving, right? What kind of music do you like?" "_Are-you-crazy?_ To _hell_ with the radio!" Cade shrugged. "Okay, then. Your call. 99.2 plays good stuff, though, if we can get it this far from Trier with a mountain in the way. Been listening to it for weeks." "Ed, they're coming _after_ us!" "I heard you the first time. We flashed back at them once. It was the wrong response, but it might also have been a tourist's response. Maybe there's something we didn't notice about this car that they spotted. They'll have to check us out. What would a tourist do if a car turned around and chased him?" "I'd run like hell," she said.

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"Sounds good to me," said Cade. In the rearview, he saw Debra look back and heard her mutter, "Oh, Jesus..." Cade took the Ford up to one-fifty kph and held it there. Debra's discomfort was evident in her stark stare out the window and her deathgrip on the back of his seat. "How fast are we going?" "Well, let's see ... One-fifty times point six is..." "Damn it, can't you just answer me?" "Sure. Ninety miles per hour. You're a pretty nervous passenger, lady." "What?" Her head snapped around and her eyes met his in the mirror. _"What?"_ "Hard of hearing, too. Get down and stay out of sight." "_What!?_" "I said, _get down!_" he yelled. "Out of sight! Get a goddamned hearing aid!" Debra glared at him for a moment, then said, "You don't have to yell at me." As she slouched below window level, Cade checked his mirrors. They were doing over ninety miles per hour and the other car was coming up fast. Cade remained in the fast lane and held his speed as they approached. He put the Uzi in his lap and waited. When the other car finally pulled alongside on the right, he glanced over at them. There were four guys in the car, all armed with rifles and pistols. They were trying to peer into Cade's car and one of them was yelling. Finally one of them rolled down the window and leaned out against the wind to try to see into Cade's car. Cade raised the Uzi to point it at the driver's instantly ashen face, but the guy had seen the gun coming up. Cade didn't have time to fire before the other car swerved slightly and slowed sharply, almost pitching the leaner out. The car then positioned itself a few carlengths behind them, straddling the road's white line. Debra screamed. Cade glanced in the mirror and saw the guy grabbing at her gun. Cade was about to swing at him over the seat with the Beretta when a gunshot filled the car with sound. Half a second later there was another shot. In the mirror Cade could see Debra struggling to shove the guy away from her. He had a confused, _'how can this be happening to me?'_ expression as he tried to breathe. Debra managed to push him back against the door, which seemed to help him draw a breath, but then a look of shock crossed his face as something inside him apparently either snapped or stopped working. He jerked once and his head lolled back. "_McAlister!_ Open the door and let him out. Do it _now!_" Credit where it's due. With only the briefest hesitation, she reached to open the door against the wind and then used her legs to force the guy out of the car. When she couldn't quite manage the task, Cade slowed to seventy to give her less wind against the door. The car behind them slowed to maintain its distance as the guy in the back seat finished falling out of the car and the wind pushed the door closed. In the rearview mirror Cade saw the back of Debra's head as she sat up to look behind them. He also saw the trailing car swerve sharply, plow up some of the six foot wide, snow-covered median, and then climb the side of the concrete highway divider. Somebody in the car must have inadvertently pulled a trigger on one of the rifles. The interior of the car was briefly lit by a prolonged muzzle flash. The car dragged its tail on the ground as it rolled onto its roof and slammed to the pavement, then it turned end over end twice before slowing enough to simply slide on its roof in a long trail of loose parts and sparks. Cade was somewhat surprised that the wreck didn't burst into flame. From the back seat came a low, hissing, "Oh, my _God_..." Cade looked in the mirror and asked, "Debra?"

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There was no immediate response, but after a couple of moments, her head turned and she faced him with huge eyes and an open mouth. "Stay together back there," he said. "Those were just drones." "What? They were what?" "Drones. Those guys had a radio. I saw the CB antenna on the roof. We're just about past the curve, but we aren't out of the woods yet. You okay?" "I ... Ah ... I think so." "Then close the door, will you? There's a helluva draft in here." Her gaze fell on the half-latched car door where whosis had been ejected. She looked at Cade in the mirror again. He gave her a glance before returning his eyes to the road ahead. A moment later the wind noise increased a bit and he saw her straining with her legs to push the door open far enough to swing it shut. Those legs seemed pretty shaky to him, but they looked as fine as ever. She hooked her toes under the door handle and pulled as the wind pushed. The door shut with a solid sound and the whistling stopped. "Thank you," said Cade. Her voice cracked as she asked, "How ... How much farther do we have to go?" "Twenty-five minutes of Autobahn and maybe ten more of town roads into Kaiserslautern. We'll probably pick up a police escort in about fifteen minutes, when we hit the Niedermohr area. That's what would be a county line in the States." She didn't look well at all as she muttered, "Oh, Jesus..." Cade asked, "Are you gonna be sick? We can stop for a minute." "_No!_ No. I want this trip over with as quickly as possible." "Yeah, fine. But I don't want to be in a car that stinks of barf, lady. If you have to, open a window, okay? Want to come up front?" Debra either hit or kicked the back of his seat as she screamed, "Oh, shut up! Just shut up! _Please, shut up!_" Her face in the mirror was a tearful mess. With a look of sudden realization, she lunged for the other door and cranked furiously to open the window, then leaned out and emptied herself into the darkness for several long moments. Cade leaned across the seat to slap her door lock down. -------*Chapter Thirty-three* They tunneled through the darkness for almost five minutes before Debra gave in to the cold wind and retreated back into the car. As she rolled the window up, Cade wriggled a paper towel out of his back pocket and handed it over the back of the seat. She took it silently. Cade heard a sound above and looked up through the windshield to see a helicopter above the highway. Bahn Polizi? Too dark to tell. The helicopter stayed either slightly behind or slightly ahead of them for several minutes. They'd probably seen the Saab and the automotive debris on the road and were undoubtedly wondering if the Ford below had been involved with the event. They were probably running his license plate number, too. The helicopter was somewhat ahead of them when something fell on the hood of the Ford and lodged in the vent grill behind the driver's side windshield wiper. Cade switched lanes on general principles, then kept switching lanes. The helicopter suddenly lifted sharply and banked hard to the left, then returned. It continued the zig-zag pattern for a couple of moments, then lifted higher and sped ahead before descending toward a point well ahead of the Ford. A bright, almost continuous flash extended only a short distance from the side of the helicopter before it swerved. A moment later it swooped in again, switching on its spotlight, and hovered above the highway. Cade returned to the fast lane and kept an eye on the helicopter as they approached the area. To their right, parked on the side of the Autobahn and encompassed by

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the bright light from the helicopter, was a car that must have taken a hundred rounds or so. No glass, no tires, and holes from one end to the other. Two men lay on the ground some distance from the front of the car. While there was light enough to see, Cade hit the wiper switch to see what had fallen on the Ford. What looked to be a shard of some kind of glass or plastic lay gleaming in the vent slots, probably part of something shattered by a bullet. The helicopter crew had responded rather forcefully to suppress the incoming fire. Cade wondered if the shredded shooter had been Teffler. He heard another muttered, "Oh, Jesus," from behind his seat and glanced in his mirror. Debra was sitting up and staring back at the scene. "Hope that was Teffler," said Cade. Debra didn't look away until a hill obscured the view. She glanced at the rearview mirror and he met her eyes, but she said nothing. Ahead of them, so far away as to be hard to see, were flashing blue lights. A sign went by that said 'Niedermohr 4km'. "Cops ahead," said Cade. Debra's head snapped around and she said, "Thank God." "Too soon for that." "What?" "Too soon for thanking anybody. They're our escort, that's all. They'll lead, follow, and maybe even get in the way, but we aren't stopping for them." "But won't that be your police friend?" "Probably. Doesn't matter. We won't stop until we're in the parking garage under John's office." Two green and white German cop cars began moving well ahead of them and took the lead. Three more fell in behind them. There were no flashing lights or sirens in the convoy. That meant that others, further ahead, were clearing the way. As he looked at the cop cars, Cade realized that Freddy had surrounded them with the larger, four-door Fords. His cars were green and white, but at a distance in the dark, the difference would be almost impossible to spot. Debra was trying to look in all directions at once. She straightened up and sat in the center of the back seat, her hands locked on the front seat about three feet apart, as the lights of Niedermohr flew past them. Less than ten kilometers later, Cade turned off without slowing more than absolutely necessary to take the E-50/A-6 Autobahn north past Landstuhl. Fifteen or so kilometers later the convoy turned off the Autobahn altogether and slowed to fifty mph as they followed route B270 into Kaiserslautern. Every exit or entrance to the road was blocked by a car, and once they'd passed, the cars blocking roads sped up to pass the motorcade in order to block other access roads along the way. In less than five more minutes they were nearing Cade's agency's building, traveling along Konigstrasse. The protection of darkness had disappeared when they entered the city, of course. Between the overhead mercury vapor street lights and Christmas decorations lining the streets, it may as well have been daytime. The convoy had just turned onto Humboldtstrasse when Cade's internal radar went off for no apparent reason. They were only two blocks from the agency building and something ahead just didn't seem right. He braked hard, almost causing the car behind him to ram him, then backed up around it and half a block farther in order to turn left onto Rosenstrasse. When he stopped backing and turned, two rounds slammed into the car, one impacting the door post next to his seat and the other making a thumping sound as it hit somewhere just behind him. Cade vaguely registered a helicopter descending toward a building before another building cut off his view of the direction they'd been heading. From the back seat came Debra's voice in a dazed tone. "Ed ... My arm ... I think I've been shot." "Just your arm? Nothing else?"

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"Uh ... I think so." "Hang on, then. Get flat, too. We're turning again." Cade turned left on Moltkestrasse and left on Ziegelstrasse, then left for the last time on Humboldtstrasse. He stomped the gas pedal to begin a slightly zig-zagging sprint toward the agency building's parking garage entrance. They were only fifty yards away when a bullet made a hole in the hood only a couple of feet ahead of the windshield. Another round punched through the windshield almost dead center and hit one of the guns on the front seat. The sounds of the shots seemed to arrive about a half-second after the bullets. Cade heard another shot as they dove into the garage entrance, but he didn't hear or feel the round hit the car. Cade made the car almost scurry around the support pillars and ramps until they were parked near an elevator. When he got out he saw Debra lying on the back seat, her head against the passenger side door, gripping her upper left arm tightly. As he reached to help her out of the car, Cade noticed a light splattering of blood on the back of the driver's seat. When Debra was out of the car and he'd closed the door, he saw where the first bullet had hit and been deflected downward by the door post. The second bullet had gone through the door about ten inches behind the first and had apparently clipped the underside of Debra's arm as she'd braced herself against the back of his seat. He saw the hole in the underside of the left arm of her coat, but no blood. Then he saw her dripping fingers. Cade quickly checked Debra over for other injuries, then shoved the guns off the car seat and onto the floor and locked the Ford before leading her to the elevators. Two levels up the doors opened and they headed down the hallway to the basement infirmary. The night/weekend guards for the floor had no medical training, so Cade wound up cleaning and bandaging Debra's slight wound while he called upstairs. "There was so much blood," she said, "Are you sure I don't need stitches?" "You do, but they can wait for a real doctor. You'll have about eight enlisted stitches or twelve officer stitches. And a bad bruise. I'm going upstairs. Care to join me?" Cade had turned to leave the infirmary. Debra grabbed his arm and asked, "You're going after Gloria, aren't you? What are you going to do to her?" As he started walking again, he said, "I'm not _'going after'_ anybody. I don't have to. Gloria can't cover her ass on this and it doesn't matter who she knows. She's as good as out of government service right now." "Then why are we going upstairs?" He sighed and gestured impatiently around the drab, sterile room and hallway. "Would you rather stay here or go where there's a coffee pot? I have to check in and so do you. There's a carload of hot guns in the garage and the car's probably stolen, too. By now the cops have either caught or lost the sniper. See? There's lots to do upstairs, isn't there?" "You don't have to be sarcastic, Ed." "Sometimes it helps make other people widen their scope of perception a bit." The guard at the hall desk said, "Phone call for you, Mr. Cade." As he took the receiver, Cade said, "Cade." Gloria said, "I need you up here to talk to the police and a couple of other people. How soon can you be here?" "I'm on my way now." The phone clicked off as she hung up. Debra asked, "Who was that?" "Gloria. She thinks she's still in charge."

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"Is she?" "Only until I get there." When the elevator doors opened on the third floor lobby, Gloria's 'couple' of people turned out to be closer to a dozen, all waiting for Cade and Debra. Cade pointed to Freddy and two people who worked within the agency E-teams in one manner or other and said, "You three stay. Everybody else either tell the woman at the reception desk why being here is a matter of life and death or come back tomorrow morning." There was a rash of protesting. Cade motioned the guard over and said, "Clear this hallway. If they think they have reason to be here, let them tell her. If not, show them the door. Be polite, but don't take any bullshit." He then went to the reception desk, pointed to one of the men he'd told to stay, and said to Gloria, "That man is Alan Sharples. He is now my second in command until either John or Linda gets here. _You_ will deal with the people in the hall." Gloria stood up and coldly said, "I'm in charge here, Cade, not you." "You'd better check the list again, lady. Any crap from you and you'll spend the night in a jail cell. And don't even think about leaving." She almost sputtered. The man Cade had pointed to as his second came over and stood on the other side of her. They simply stared at Gloria until she sat down. Freddy came over and gestured Cade to one side, where he quietly asked, "Do you think that's wise?" "I outrank her. So does he. She's the one who called Bonn or arranged for someone else to do it." Nodding slightly, Freddy said, "Ah. I see." Cade turned back to Gloria and asked, "How soon will John or Linda be here?" Gloria glared as she said, "Linda said about thirty minutes. That was about ten minutes ago." Cade turned to Freddy and said, "I'm going to turn this whole mess over to Linda, Freddy. Can you stick around that long, or will the city collapse to ruins without you?" Freddy said, "I will require coffee, of course." "Good idea. Alan, take over out here. That means to sort these people out and keep an eye on Gloria. She doesn't leave this floor." Debra, Freddy, and Cade adjourned to the small refreshment area and dug into the donuts and coffee that were provided every night for duty personnel. Cade asked Freddy, "Was the sniper named Teffler?" "We're still looking for the sniper," said Freddy. Cade nodded. He'd have had an escape plan. After two donuts and most of a coffee, Debra said, "Ed, I remember what you said to Gloria just before we left. Was all that just so much bull?" "Not at the time. She's made it that since then, though." Cade turned to Freddy and said, "Freddy, my blue Chevy is at the tankstelle on the way to Trier. Also two bodies. They arrived in a green Saab that's on the side of the Autobahn heading toward K-town. We took it to try to get past Teffler's people, then took the white Ford that's in the garage from another of his men. There's a pile of guns in the Ford and it's locked." Freddy munched his donut, then said, "Thank you. I'll send someone down to have a look at it. The tankstelle attendant called the Bahn Polizi, Ed. They found your car -- or rather, a car registered to an American GI named Connors -- and the bodies. They also found the Saab and had to clean up the mess you made on their section of the Autobahn." "Who sent the helicopter?" "The Army," he said, then he appended, "Ours." After a few more bites, he said, "I may have to arrest you later, you know." "Can it wait a few days? Until Monday or so?" Freddy shrugged. "There is no certainty that I will have to arrest you at all, so I see no reason to let the possibility haunt us."

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-------*Chapter Thirty-four* When Linda arrived, some of the people who had earlier thought their presences imperative disappeared. Alan intercepted her at the door and directed her to the break area. When Gloria rose to accompany her, Alan stood in her path and told her to remain at her desk. Linda noticed this, but made no comment. Arriving at the break room, Linda said, "Hello, all. Freddy, how much of this won't wait until tomorrow and how much of it must be handled tonight?" Freddy made a production of giving the matter thought as he poured Linda a cup of coffee and handed it to her. "Linda," he said, "I have to have something for my superiors, of course, but we can talk before I leave." She nodded and said, "Good enough. Thank you for your patience. Cade and Ms. McAlister, please accompany me to my office." Once they were seated around her desk, Linda reached in a drawer for a tape recorder and put in a fresh tape, then said to Cade, "Go ahead." Cade outlined their flight from Landstuhl to Trier, then skipped ahead to Debra's phone call to her office and Gloria, at which point he asked if he could get a refill of coffee before they went further. After silently coaxing "Okay, get me one, too" out of Linda, he pressed the 'stop' button on the recorder. "Linda," said Cade, "Something happened on the road that I'd like to leave out of the report. I'd better mention it now. We picked a guy up when we took over the Ford and had to shove the guy out of the car after McAlister shot him twice. It was necessary, but it might not look good in print." "Tell me what happened." Cade told her. Linda glanced at Debra, who nodded. She didn't look well. Linda told her she could make a trip to the bathroom if necessary, but to come right back. Debra nodded, but didn't leave her chair. Linda then turned her attention to Cade and asked, "Just how would you rewrite that bit of history, Ed?" Cade shrugged and said, "I'd say that we left him when we took his car. Let someone else speculate that the other car must have stopped for him and that the gunfire in the car when it hit the concrete wall must have hit him while he was leaning out to aim at us. Let them guess that he was thrown clear before the car splattered itself all over the road. That would account for any details." Linda looked at Debra, who nodded yet again and said, "Yes. I think I like that better than telling the world that I kicked a man out of a car at ninety miles per hour." "Cade, are you sure that story will cover forensics?" "Yup. Two bullets hit him and he was involved in the car wreck. Say the accidental gunfire must have caused the wreck. There aren't any other details to spackle." Linda said, "So be it, then. It's your story." She turned the tape back on and Cade told of their journey from Trier to Kaiserslautern with only the adjustment of having left the man when they took the Ford. He ended with, "Then I put Alan in charge and we waited for you. Other than that, I think a doctor should look at Ms. McAlister's arm soon. She needs stitches." Linda formally asked him if he had anything to add to his report. He replied that he couldn't think of anything at the moment and she tapped the recorder's 'off' button. A moment later she tapped one of the buttons on her phone and dialed, then sat back to quietly regard both Cade and Debra while she waited for someone to answer the phone. Cade faintly heard a man's voice ask, "Hello?" and Linda said, "Dr. Anderson, this is Linda Baines. I'm at my office and I have a patient for you." A moment later she said, "No. It doesn't appear to be an emergency, but it is a bullet wound." Linda grinned slightly as the man's agitated voice asked, "A _bullet

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wound_ isn't an emergency any more? I'll be sure to make a note of that, _doctor_ Baines. How about letting _me_ diagnose the severity of my patient's injuries?" Still grinning, Linda said, "Why, certainly, doctor. No problem." Dr. Anderson said something else that Cade couldn't quite hear. Linda said, "He'll be here in a few minutes, Ms. McAlister. Now, if you don't mind, I need to speak to Cade. On your way out, would you send Gloria in?" Debra was startled at being excluded, but she nodded as she got up and headed for the door. A moment later Gloria came into the office. Linda took the tape out of the recorder and handed it to her. "I'll need five copies of Cade's statement," said Linda. "In about an hour, I think. Inspector Hart will be needing to get underway." Gloria took the tape and left the room. Linda turned her attention to Cade and said, "I saw how McAlister looked at you, Ed. What's up?" "We got involved in Trier." "What are you going to do about that?" "Nothing, if you're talking about marriage. Now that our exile is over, she'll realize soon enough that I'm not really the type for her world." "Do you want to take a real leave and spend some time with her?" Cade shook his head. "No. She'd be back at her desk Monday if we'd let her do that. Her office was the first place she called today." Linda sat back with her coffee and said, "I was actually referring to the fact that Teffler is still loose. We can take things public now that a move has been made and the press and politicians can milk it to get their purges underway, but McAlister will probably have to go back to the States as soon as possible for her own safety. You know that Teffler and others may see her as the root cause of their troubles." Cade nodded and sipped his coffee. "Yeah. I know that." Linda set her coffee down and rubbed her face. Cade knew that face-rubbing was a bad sign with Linda. It meant that she was having to do something that she didn't wholly agree with. Some moments of silence passed before Linda spoke. "Cade, we received orders to disengage from this case completely the day after you left. Before I left Mannheim, I checked to see if those orders could change now that the matter was about to go public. The answer was 'no'. Officially, it's _'hands off'_ for us the minute she leaves this building." "How about unofficially? What if I all but move in with her for the time she has left in Europe?" "They'd take a very dim view of that, and you know it. Why even ask?" "Linda, nothing's changed. They're leaving her set up for a hit. The only difference is that now that the press will be involved she'll be able to buy a plane ticket and they probably won't be able to stop her from leaving Europe." "That's about the size of it, all right. I'll ask again, Ed; do you want to take some real leave? Maybe if you do, she will, too." "She's a hardhead, Linda. The 'do or die' type. Why don't _you_ talk to her about her situation and make the same suggestion to her? If she won't cooperate, maybe a family emergency could come up. We could get her back to the States and..." Linda interrupted him with a raised hand. "Whoa. A family emergency?" Cade shrugged and said, "Have someone get with her family and think of something that will get her back there. A phony illness might do it. A fake heart attack, maybe, or something like that. Just something that will get her on a plane." "No promises. Tonight I'll call Bellmer in DC, though. He owes us a favor and he isn't in any of the political loops over here. How about sending her in when you go for a coffee refill, Ed? And stay gone until we come out, okay?"

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Cade stood up and said, "Do I need that refill right now?" "Yes, I think you do. I'll let you know how it goes." Cade nodded and left the office to find Debra. She was talking to Freddy over a donut when he told her that Linda wanted to talk to her and she headed for Linda's office just as Gloria was leaving it. Gloria called Cade over to her desk to read and sign his statement. He saw Linda's initials in the top right corner and signed all five copies, then handed one to Freddy. Freddy smiled and said, "This is all I needed. We will be in touch, Ed. Soon, in fact, concerning further protection of Ms. McAlister." As they shook hands, Cade said, "Thanks, Freddy. Oh, about that blue Chevy at the tankstelle. What have they done with it?" "It has been towed to the impoundment facility in Kusel. I'm afraid they opened it and searched it because of the circumstances of its discovery. You know how the police can be about such things." Cade shrugged and said, "Yeah, I've met a few cops along the way." He walked with Freddy to the elevators, then returned to sit for a while at one of the empty desks in the outer office. It occurred to Cade that he and Debra didn't have so much as a toothbrush between them. He called the first floor guard desk and asked if they could send someone to Kleber Kaserne or Panzer Kaserne to pick up a few necessities. The guard captain said that he'd take care of it. Some fifteen minutes later Linda's office door opened and Linda said, "Ed, we need a word with you." Cade rose and went to her. Before he reached the doorway, he was able to see Debra sitting by Linda's desk. She was dabbing at tears and regrouping herself. Her gaze remained fixed on the corner of Linda's desk as Cade entered the office and took a seat. Linda closed the door and joined them. After sitting down, Linda nodded toward Debra as she looked at Cade and said, "I offered to put her on a MAC flight to the States. She refused." She sipped her coffee as her gaze switched to Debra. Cade's eyes followed hers and were met by Debra's. She nodded briefly as she clutched some tissues. After a moment Cade said, "Don't blame her a bit. She's probably heard about the poor in-flight service on mil flights." Linda gave him a droll look, but Debra gave him a small smile. "Well, _no,_ Ed," said Linda in a tone of great patience. "No, actually, that wasn't the reason. She seems to want to hang herself out there as bait." "Doesn't bait usually get pretty chewed up, Linda? I thought you were going to try to talk her into leaving." Linda gave him a sharp look and said, "I did. I'm not in favor of this, Ed. That's why I offered her a MAC flight." Debra said, "They killed my daughter, Ed. I know this won't make any sense to you, but I don't want to leave without doing something about that." Cade shrugged. "No, that makes sense enough. Making yourself a target doesn't." "It may draw them out. If they try for me..." In a flat tone, he interrupted her with, "If they try for you, they'll probably succeed, whether they're caught or not. They may face prison or worse, but you'll probably be in the morgue. How does that do anything for Sandy?" Debra gave him a hard look and said, "I'm not doing this for Sandy. I'm doing it for me, I know it's risky, and I'm staying anyway, Ed. Don't try to talk me out of it." "I'll tell them to reserve a slab for you, then," said Cade. "Now another question, Debra. What if you don't get your revenge? What if Teffler and company simply don't bother with you? The big show will start soon, and they may be too busy covering their own asses to worry about coming after yours." Debra shook her head.

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"No. They _won't_ ignore me, Ed. They won't be _able_ to ignore me." Cade looked at Linda questioningly. Linda said, "Press interviews. Public speaking engagements. Other exposures. The right words would make Teffler respond. Others, too." "Debra," said Cade, "Correct me if I'm wrong, of course, but Teffler didn't kill Sandy, did he? It was the porn industry that killed her." She shook her head again and said in a very intense voice, "I don't just want Teffler, Ed. I want them all. I'll be naming names and citing connections." "What you'll be doing is handing the 'crats the martyr they want. The first time you open your mouth that way, someone will put a bullet in it or blow up the podium." Cade got up and walked to the door. Before he opened it, he said, "Show me a target and I'll do my job. Hand me someone in need of protection and I'll do my best. But don't tell me to shepherd a suicidal woman until someone nails her." Debra had gotten to her feet in a rather stunned fashion. She took a step toward Cade and stopped when he turned to cast a flat gaze at her. Her mouth opened to speak, but Linda spoke first. "You don't have to leave, Ed. You won't be guarding her." When Cade let go of the door handle and turned to fully face her, Linda said, "I'll be speaking to John later. I think you should be positioned as one of the hunters." Cade said sharply, "_Beg_ to differ, ma'am. We have two extractions on the drawing board for the beginning of the year. That's where I belong. That's why I was hired." Linda sat very still for a moment, then quietly said, "You were hired to do what we need done, Cade. We're friends, you and John and me, but don't forget who runs this show. John and I decide what we need done and which of our people will do it." Perhaps a full ten seconds passed before Cade said, "Well, in that case ... Yas'm, bosslady. I'll hoe that row and tote that bale and all that kind of stuff, but I want this weekend to myself, first. I have a few things to clear up, not the least of which are getting our luggage and my Chevy back here from Kusel. I may need Monday, too." Linda nodded and said, "Take until Wednesday if you have to and call in twice a day until then." Cade nodded and started to turn to leave. Debra had been standing as if frozen, an expression of shocked betrayal on her face, but now she moved toward Cade with the same expression and stopped a few feet from him. "You're just _leaving?_" she asked. "Just walking out without so much as a goodbye after all we've been to each ... After all we've been through?" "That's what I'm doing. You're history." Debra shook her head, then almost screamed, "_Why!?_ What have I done?" Cade quickly pulled his .45, pointed it at her face, and sharply said, "_Bang!_" Debra's face paled as she stared into the gun barrel. Her hands and knees shook and she swallowed hard once before she tried to speak, but Cade held up a hand as he reholstered the weapon. "Now," he said, "You tell me again how you know it's risky, lady. You aren't ready to die. Hell, you almost wet yourself just now. Now I'll tell you what's going to happen if you stay, McAlister. We _may_ get the sniper or the guy who planted the bomb, but _you_ won't be there to celebrate the occasion. Politicians will line up to say sad and glorious things about you, but you won't hear them. If you stay and play their game, you'll only get to _die_ for the goddamned _cause._" Cade leaned forward until his face was nearly touching hers and forcefully said, "This may sound _real_ selfish of me, but I don't want to remember you with a big hole in your chest, lying in a puddle of your own blood and piss. Oh, gee, don't look so shocked, ma'am! People let it all go

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when they die, didn't you know that? I don't want to remember you as a mass of mangled meat that we pulled out of some rubble, either, lady. _What I want_ is for you to _get on a goddamned plane_ and let me remember you as the goddess-woman I made love to in Trier." -------*Chapter Thirty-five* At Cade's last words, Debra's eyes got huge and she turned to see how Linda had reacted to that bit of untold information. Linda gave her a look of surprise, then put a hand to her mouth as if she'd been slightly shocked to learn that they'd slept together. With a tinge of pink to her face, Debra straightened up and walked wordlessly around Cade to the door. She slammed the handle down and yanked the door open, then marched out of the office and past Gloria's desk to the hallway, then rather brutally shoved open the door to the women's restroom and went in. Cade shut the office door and looked at Linda. Linda sipped her coffee and looked back at him for a few moments before speaking. "I think you reached her best with _'blood and piss'_," she said, "But revealing that you two slept together is what drove it all home. Now we wait and see." "Yeah. I wasn't kidding, Linda. If she stays, I really don't want to be anywhere near when they get her. I don't want to see it happen." "I know, Ed. I heard what you said. I heard what you didn't say, too. If she goes back to the States, will you need that leave time after all?" "That would be up to her." Linda nodded and said, "We can spare you if you need it. You've softened her up. Why don't you make yourself scarce, now, and let me work on her for a while?" Cade nodded and said, "The first-floor guards ought to have some stuff I asked for by now. I'll have them send it up and find someone to run me home. Tell her to expect to see her luggage tomorrow sometime." "Good. I'll tell her that you were called away by the investigators, then install her in one of the overnight rooms downstairs. Better get moving before she comes back. Hey, wait a minute, Cade. Why do you need a ride? Your Ford's in the garage." "My _other_ car's at the BOQ in Landstuhl, milady. My _Mercedes_. The Ford can stay in the garage for a while." Cade went downstairs and the guard captain found him a ride with a couple of MP's from Kleber Kaserne. He had them let him off at the corner pub a couple of blocks from his house and sat thinking about things with a small pitcher of Hofbrau beer until somebody asked if he played pool. _Pool?_ He looked into the game room and saw that since his last visit two of the foosball tables had been replaced by a coin-operated pool table. The jukebox and pinball machines had been moved to accommodate shooters' cue sticks. Cade put coins in the pool table and chose a stick while the other guy broke the rack. Five games later the guy made a phone call and two of his friends showed up. Beating Cade at pool seemed to become their purpose in life for the rest of that evening. They kept the beer flowing and spoke of forming a bar team and eventually stopped asking Cade why he wore his jacket indoors. They were the only patrons and the pub owner wanted to go home. As a rather unsubtle hint, he even offered them a free pitcher of beer if they'd leave when it was empty. The guys were good-natured enough to go along with it, and sometime around midnight the pitcher ran dry. After all the usual _'get you next time'_ banter outside the pub doors, the group broke up and Cade began walking the remaining distance home. In the quiet of the night, he heard Bugglebeast going crazy at the window well before he arrived at his door. The cat was backlit by the overhead light in the kitchen, something unusual in his experience. Frau Gestner usually left a light on in the hall, but never any of the other lights in the

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house. Cade peeked in the window and saw Frau Gestner slumped at the kitchen table. He hurried to get the door unlocked, then drew the .45 and stood to one side of the door as he nudged it open. Two quick peeks later, he'd verified that the stairwell seemed clear and he kept low as he hurried into the hallway. The hall and stairs were clear, too. Cade glanced up at his own door at the top of the stairs and saw that it was closed. He knocked on Frau Gestner's door first. No response. He pounded on the door. Still no response. Trying the door handle yielded no results; it was locked. Bugglebeast was now going nuts at the kitchen door. Cade went to the hall phone and called the police, told them the situation, and told them that he was going to kick the door in. "We cannot authorize such an action," said the cop. "But you can authorize an ambulance," said Cade. "And I was an Army medic. I'll be inside by the time you get here." He went back to the door and kicked it twice before the latch ripped the woodwork open on the other side. Bugglebeast was nowhere in sight as Cade crouched by the doorframe and finger-shoved the door open. Nobody inside. He remained low as he ran to check out the hall beyond the kitchen and the room beyond the hall. Nobody there, either. He ran back to the kitchen and checked Frau Gestner for a pulse. It was faint, but she had one. Cade unlocked and closed the kitchen door to keep Bugglebeast inside, then lifted Frau Gestner out of the chair and laid her flat on the floor. Her breathing deepened and after a few moments her pulse seemed stronger. She bore no signs of injury. Nothing in the kitchen was out of place. Cade realized that he was still holding the .45 and holstered it. Something moved in the hallway. It was Bugglebeast, coming down from the panic that the door-kicking had caused. Lights and sirens outside. Cade jammed some of the woodwork back in place to hold the kitchen door and went outside to guide them in. A few minutes later the medics were working on Frau Gestner and the cops were talking to Cade as he tried to comfort Bugglebeast. They wheeled her out on a gurney as Cade and the cops watched, then Cade invited the cops to continue their questionings in his apartment. After putting Bugglebeast down and giving him a few treats that he ignored in favor of checking out the cops, Cade offered to make coffee, which the head cop politely declined for all of them. The cop's radio prattled for a moment, giving the cop both a situation report and a reply concerning Cade. The voice said that Inspector Hart did, indeed, know Mr. Cade and informed them that Frau Gestner had suffered from insulin shock. _She's a diabetic?_ thought Cade. He'd known her for some time, but he hadn't known that about her. The cop asked if Cade knew who should be contacted. Cade suggested a couple of relatives' names, which were relayed by radio. Perhaps fifteen minutes later the cops left, much to Bugglebeast's disappointment. Another half an hour passed before a woman Cade knew to be one of Frau Gestner's cousins showed up. She said that the hospital had told her that Frau Gestner would probably be home by morning. Cade helped her secure the woodwork around the door and assured her that Bugglebeast would be fine until his mama came home. After a brief visit, she left. It was nearly two when Cade went to bed. Bugglebeast had never stayed overnight before, so it took him some time to decide exactly where on the bed to park himself. He also apparently changed his mind a couple of times during the night, jarring Cade mildly awake as he trundled to some other spot on the bed. Sounds from downstairs woke Cade at around ten the next morning. He prepped a bit and took Bugglebeast with him when he went downstairs. Two women

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he'd never met before answered his knock on the kitchen door. He introduced himself as he put Bugglebeast down and they gushed for a few moments before telling Cade that Frau Gestner was in her bedroom. One of them went to tell her that she had company, an altogether unnecessary action since Bugglebeast had already gone that direction at full speed. The cousin he knew came to take him to Frau Gestner. After some chatting and her thanks, Cade excused himself and went to the hall phone to check in with Linda. About an hour later he boarded a train for Kusel. The cops in Kusel released the Chevy and luggage to him without any difficulties and damned few questions. They'd apparently been told that they already knew as much as necessary. Cade headed back to Kaiserslautern to drop Debra's things at the office and his own bags at his house, then he headed for the Landstuhl WAC shack. Lissa came down to the day room and stopped in the doorway. She stared at him for a moment, then came to join him by the front desk. Without greeting or preamble, she said, "The MP's picked me up last night and questioned me for a while. Want to guess what they questioned me about?" "Would it have been a blue Chevy that was registered in your name?" She nodded. "They thought I might have had something to do with a couple of dead guys, too. Cade, you _promised_ me that I wouldn't get in trouble by lending you my car." He shrugged and asked, "Well? If you were in trouble, you wouldn't be here." She gave him a narrow gaze for a moment, then said, "I spent almost _three hours_ with those guys, Cade. _Not fun._ I was going to go pick up the Chevy on Monday." "I saved you a trip, then. How about another ride, lady? Over to the BOQ?" Her gaze remained narrow as she asked, "After all that, _you_ want another ride from _me_? Why? You gonna shoot someone at the BOQ, too?" "Nope. I'm going to pick up my _Mercedes_, ma'am. I left it there the day I borrowed your car." She looked reluctant. Cade said, "I could have just left the Chevy at the BOQ and taken the Mercedes, you know. Then you'd be the one walking across the base." She grunted and glared at him, then stood up and grabbed the keys that dangled from his hand. At the BOQ, Cade had to find a coathanger to fish the door lock up and open the car. That activity greatly disturbed Lissa until he showed her the paperwork that he'd left in the car. When he tried to start the Mercedes, it turned slowly a few times, then the battery ran too low to turn the starter. Cade went back inside the BOQ and scrounged up some 220-volt scrap wire. He jammed the ends of the black lead into the negative terminals of both the Mercedes and the Chevy, then used the white lead to bridge the positive terminals. When he turned the key, the Mercedes cranked a few times and fired up. Muttering, "Hardin probably swapped in the oldest battery on the lot," Cade coiled up the still-hot 220 wire and put it in the trunk in case of later need. He thanked Lissa for her trouble and the lend of her Chevy, then headed for a stop at the car wash in Ramstein town on his way to have the car's paperwork checked out on base. After the Mercedes had been scrubbed clean of a month's accumulated grime, he made a point of driving past the World Motors car lot at a leisurely speed. Hardin was talking to someone as the Mercedes rolled by. His surprised gaze followed the car until the Mercedes crested the slight hill and disappeared. Cade had to show ID at the Ramstein AFB West gate. His name didn't seem to mean anything to the guard, so he asked if the guard had heard anything about some kind of an incident on the Autobahn the night before. The guard

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said that he hadn't. Cade arrived at the AP office a few minutes later and went inside with the car's folder. Sgt. Miller looked up, saw Cade, and in a very tired tone said, "Oh, shit. You again." Cade grinned and said, "Yup. Me again. I just want someone to look at the paperwork on my car and tell me if it's right and ready to send in." Cade put the folder on the counter. Miller looked at it for a moment, then said, "I guess I can do that." As he riffled through the papers in the folder, Miller said, "You really stirred up some shit out there on the 'Bahn yesterday." _Interesting,_ thought Cade. _A sergeant knows about it, but a guard corporal doesn't._ He said, "Believe it or not, that wasn't my idea. What have you heard?" Miller looked up and said, "Eight dead, one injured. One car had to be _swept_ off the friggin' road and another one was shot fulla holes. Somebody shot at a German Army chopper an' they shot back. That's only what I _heard_, o'course." Cade nodded slightly. "Sounds close enough. Heard anything else?" "Nope. They slammed the lid on the whole mess just about as quick as I've ever seen 'em do it. You was there, so why you askin'?" Cade grinned and said, "Sarge, I sometimes lose sleep worrying about what people are saying about me." Miller closed the folder with a snort and said, "Uh, huh. Yeah, I'll bet you really give a damn. This stuff's okay, Cade. Want me to send it up to Vehicle Registration?" "Sure. Thanks for saving me a trip." "It'll go out Monday. 'Zat gonna be all?" Cade took the folder and said, "Yeah, that's about it. Thanks," as he turned to leave. Miller's dour gaze followed him out the door. _'Slammed the lid' means info control,_ thought Cade. _Any other terrorist incident makes the morning edition front page. The 'crats are stalling for time to put a spin on everything to do with their upcoming morality binges and purges._ He decided to have dinner at the open mess hall and bought a paper on the way in. While waiting in line for a tray, he scanned the paper, but there was no mention at all of the previous night's Autobahn activities. Whoops. Page four, third column; one mention, after all, of suspicious activity involving a green-tag car being thwarted at a tankstelle near Kusel. No details. _'Thwarted?' Who the hell uses words like that in a base newspaper?_ A blonde woman came in who looked familiar. She went through the food line and looked around for a place to sit. When her gaze found Cade, she froze, then put her tray down on the nearest table and walked quickly toward the door. "Bonnie?" asked Cade. The woman stopped almost in mid-stride. When she turned, Cade said, "Go grab your tray and eat. You don't have to leave to avoid me. Just sit somewhere else." He forked up some meat loaf and went back to his newspaper. Bonnie seemed indecisive for a moment, then went back for her tray and sat down a few tables away from Cade. Cade finished his meal and the newspaper's crossword at about the same time. He left the paper on the table and took his tray to the bus counter, then headed for the door. Halfway down the steps to the parking lot, Bonnie caught up with him. "Cade!" she said sharply. He stopped on the steps and said, "Here. Present. Accounted for, anyway." "Why are you on base? And why here? Why now?" He turned to look at her and realized that blonde definitely wasn't her

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color. "I had business with the AP's and I was hungry, Bonnie. You wouldn't sit with me in there, so why did you come running out here to ask me that?" "I ... I just wanted to know, that's all." "Well, then, now you know. Anything else?" She just looked at him for some moments, then said, "No. I guess not," and turned to go back up the steps. "You sure?" asked Cade. Bonnie stopped and faced him silently for several moments. Cade shrugged and said, "Okay, then. See you around." She was still standing on the steps as he got in the Mercedes and started it. At the entrance to the parking lot, he glanced in his rearview mirror. She turned and went back inside the mess hall. _Well, that encounter was odd enough,_ he thought. -------*Chapter Thirty-six* He stopped at the BX gas station and used some of the gas coupons that Lissa had given him to fill the Mercedes' tank, checked the oil and water, and then went inside to call John's office. As if to add yet another odd encounter to the day, Gloria answered. Cade asked for Linda or John and got John. "Hey, guy," said John, "Everything all right?" "Guess so. Linda said to check in twice a day. This is number two. Why is Gloria still there, John? She's the one who ratted us out yesterday." "She had to, Ed. We kind of had company from upstairs when McAlister called." "Company? You mean in person or a bug?" "A bug. It had an accident around midnight. The rat's upstairs, Ed. We were ordered to report any contacts to fourth and we believed the outer office to be monitored. It was, of course. The guys on fourth are the ones who called Bonn." "Wonderful. Did they hear what I told Debra in Linda's office last night?" "We don't think so. You had the door closed, according to Linda." "Well, damn," said Cade. "Poor Gloria caught a lot of flak from me over that. I'll have to apologize all over her for an hour or two to make up for it." "I'll patch you back to her and you can get started. No news?" "No news. I'm at the Ramstein BX gas station." "Okay," said John. "See you later. Oh, and by the way ... Glad you made it in." "Me too. Thanks. Here's a _'by the way'_ from me, too, John. I don't want an office job." The phone clicked twice and Gloria came back on. "Hi, Gloria," said Cade, "Sorry about yesterday." "_As you should be_," she said. "You owe me a dinner, Cade. Maybe two dinners." "You've got it. Anything else?" "I'll let you know if there is. Want me to patch you to Debra? She was asking about you earlier. She wants to see you before she goes." "She's still there? They haven't moved her yet?" "Yup. She's still here and staying here until her stuff is packed and shipped. Want me to put you through to her?" Cade thought about it for a whole second. No, he didn't want to be put through. He wanted to see her, to hear her voice and to touch her again before she became nothing more than a fond memory and a long-distance friend. "No," said Cade, "I'll be up that way in a while. I'll visit her then." Gloria laughed and said, "Oh, lordy! You managed to sound so casual about it! Okay, then. If there's nothing else, stop blowing in my ear. I have work to do. Bye." Cade stopped on the way to pick up a bottle of wine and some gin and

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mixer on general principles. The second floor guard called upstairs for authorization to let him visit what was commonly called "the dorm" before letting him past the desk. Cade knocked on Debra's door and heard her say, "Coming!" a couple of minutes before she opened the door. Her eyes widened slightly and she stepped back a pace as she gestured him to come in, then closed the door after him. She said, "I was wondering if I'd see you again." "I was wondering if you'd be able to forgive me for pointing a gun at you." He pulled the bottle of wine out of its bag and said, "So I brought you a bribe. This is the wine you liked so much in Trier." Debra gazed at the bottle, but didn't take it right away. When she did take it, she walked over to the closet and pulled out her medium-sized suitcase. As she opened it, she said, "That was very thoughtful of you, Ed." She put the wine bottle in the suitcase and put the case back in the closet, then said, "The wine just became a keepsake. What did you bring that we can drink?" "Gin and a couple of kinds of mixer. I can go back out if you want." "It's just like in Trier," she said. "Our first night in a new place and no ice." "There's a machine in the snack room upstairs." Debra walked over to Cade and took his arm to lead him to the small table in one corner of the room, then went into the bathroom for the glasses that came with the room. She stopped at the doorway, then went back into the bathroom to rinse the glasses before joining Cade at the table. She shook her head and firmly said, "No. You'd have to leave the room, and I don't want that right now. Just mix the drinks, please." Cade nodded and grinned as he said, "Yes'm. Coming right up. So you don't hate me? Or do you just need a drink real bad?" She returned his grin and said, "Both. How long can you stay?" Cade shrugged and said, "Hell, lady, I'll go get some stuff and move in with you if you want. I was afraid that you wouldn't want to see me at all before you left." She shook her head again. "No, I understood what you were trying to do. You succeeded, by the way, and even if you hadn't, Linda would have. She was very convincing, too. We compromised a little. I'll have plenty of time to pack and arrange shipping of household goods. Someone upstairs said he might be interested in my car, and even if he isn't, Linda says that Hardin will sell it for me. Some things that I want to finish at work will be finished and I'll have a week or so to prep my replacement." "Do you know when you're leaving yet?" "No, and I won't know until probably the day before the plane takes off. They don't want to risk anything. I do know that I won't be leaving before Christmas. Speaking of Christmas, are you going home for the holidays?" Cade handed her a drink and picked up his own as he tried to look very thoughtful, then said, "I'll have to check with my social secretary, of course, but I think I'll probably be spending the holidays with you. Care to make a toast?" She looked thoughtful, then smilingly said, "To the holidays, of course." Cade nodded as he raised his glass and said, "To the holidays." -- -End Field Decision -- -------Other titles from Abintra Press: * * * * *SCIENCE FICTION* "3rd World Products, Inc., Book 1" "3rd World Products, Inc., Book 2" "3rd World Products, Inc., Book 3" "3rd World Products, Inc., Book 4" "An Encounter in Atlanta"

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"Assignment: ATLANTA" (A Sandy Shield Novel!) "Bitten and Smitten" (Vampires!) "HUNT CLUB" (Vampires!) "In Service to a Goddess, Book 1" "In Service to a Goddess, Book 2" "In Service to a Goddess, Book 3" "In Service to a Goddess, Book 4" "STARDANCER" * * * * *FICTION-EROTICA-ROMANCE* "Anne" "Dragonfly Run" "Field Decision" "Kim" "Mindy" * * * * *COMING SOON:* "3rd World Products, Inc., Book 5" "ANSEN" "Crystal River Witch" * * * * An index to articles and ebooks may be found on our website: http://abintrapress.tripod.com Abintra Press! ----------------------Visit www.abintrapress.tripod.com for information on additional titles by this and other authors.

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