The Tower

Jade shook his head. "No way. There's too many places. Plus, he's way too smart to get caught with something that obvious. No hope."

"We're running in circles here. And the clock's ticking."

Even though her tone was sharp, Jade said nothing. She was right. The clock was ticking. He heard it all the time.

The leads had all been followed as far as he could run with them. Now it came down to waiting. And Jade hated waiting more than anything, especially with a rising body count. He had been straining to think of another proactive strategy, some way to draw Allander in, to turn the chase upside down. But he'd only come up with dead ends. And, as Travers had said, the clock was ticking.

Chapter 51

W O T A N pivoted his great black leather chair as he surveyed the files spread on the desk before him. Picking carefully through photographs and notes from headquarters and from Agent Travers, he assessed Marlow's progress, glad to see that Travers had come to recognize the former agent's utility.

It had been difficult, but he had managed to hold the case together for Marlow. He kept the FBI's resources open to him, and he had ordered the squad's full cooperation. Stifling some of the press and police complaints hadn't been quite as easy, since they fell outside his normal jurisdiction, but he had managed.

Wotan never once doubted the wisdom of bringing Marlow in early to handle the situation. Atlasia was worse than a time bomb; he was a disease. He had to be either captured or killed before the damage got out of control.

Wotan's task was to keep the world stitched shut around both of them, to keep Marlow in the chase and in the fight. It wouldn't be so hard now that Atlasia had struck blood within the FBI.

For obvious reasons, Wotan had to find a replacement for McGuire, and had selected Fredericks, one of his senior agents. The other agents understood and no doubt shared the pain felt by McGuire; it was every man's nightmare that his vocation would put his family in harm's way. They wouldn't object to cooperating with Marlow now. Marlow's involvement promised Atlasia's delivery. It virtually guaranteed it. Nobody knew that as well as Wotan.

Wotan shuttled the bullet slug across the tops of his knuckles. It was a holy fight. He had learned that the hard way.

Jade and Travers were exhausted. The dark circles beneath their eyes that usually came and went had taken on a look of permanence.

The enthusiasm Jade had felt at McGuire's house had faded. They had a start on locating Allander, but it was definitely a long shot. Jade had taken to counting all the dark-green houses he drove past. So far, he was up to twenty-three.

Travers pointed to the bold white letters on an exit sign. "Could get off here to eat. There's a great restaurant a ways back. A little French cafe."

Jade was quiet.

"I have my beeper in case anyone needs to reach us," she added.

"They won't," he said. "If we're dead-ended, it doesn't bode well for everyone else."

He flipped on the radio as he took the exit, and clicked through the channels, trying to find a good station. His search ended when he heard jazz pouring through his speakers. Abruptly, he pulled his head to the side and cracked his neck.

Travers directed him through some back streets to the restaurant she had in mind. It sat by itself at the edge of a yellow field that curled around the base of the Woodside hills like a sleeping cat. A rare summer storm was brewing in the heavy air, and dark clouds drifted overhead, blocking the late-afternoon sun.

As Jade pulled into the parking lot, the disk jockey started his wind-down. "That's right. We've got the golden sounds of Joshua Redman to carry us into evening. Don't forget we have a busy weekend coming up, with the Cantab Singers rocking Saturday night at the House of Jazz in downtown San Jose. And for you more sophisticated listeners, there's the annual symphony hall fund-raiser at Singspiel's Restaurant up in the city tomorrow night, followed by Haydn's Drum Roll and-"

Jade turned the radio off. "Joshua Redman. Great young performer."

"I didn't know you liked jazz," Travers said, genuinely impressed.

"You mean I might not be all bad?" He smiled quickly, holding her eyes with his until she looked away. They got out of the car simultaneously.

Twenty minutes later, they faced each other across a table laden with food. Jade was quiet, leaning over his plate and inhaling deeply as the smell of chicken and brie rose to his nose. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until the food arrived, and he began to eat in large, slow bites, finishing his meal before Travers was halfway through.

The waiter asked if they wanted wine, but Jade waved him off without even looking at him. He looked instead at the woman seated across from him. Jennifer Travers. She wore her hair down around her neck, and it fell in radiant, blond strokes. Her collarbone was just visible beneath the neckline of her shirt, and Jade watched it move slightly as she breathed.