must have driven him. Michael felt a stab of fear for Bela Horvath. If Mian were to suspect — He strode back to the main room. Tonio was still snoring in the car. Now for the computer. The payment for Caroline's lost years. He understood far less about the files than Tonio, of course, but he had been watching, secretly, how the man manipulated his data. He knew how to unlock the keyboard's secrets. Mian changed the password every day, and only Tonio was privy to it; but Michael had watched his fingers that morning. He thought he could repeat the strokes.
He sat down in front of the laptop. The password was chaos today, he was certain — but entry was denied. Had he inverted the a and the o? Michael swore aloud. Three failed attempts, and the computer would destroy its own hard disk.
He willed his fingers to stop shaking and tried again.
This time, like the door to All Baba's cave, the way opened. He began to search among the treasures scattered haphazardly on the thieves' floor.
“Michael,” the voice said behind him.
He jumped involuntarily and snapped the computer lid shut. Stupid! Stupid not to be more on my guard.
“Mrs. Payne. You should be asleep. How did you get out of your room?”
“Jozsef. He has a remote, did you know?”
She swayed and clutched at the jamb. That quickly he was at her side. She looked ghastly.
“Here. Sit.” He helped her to a chair.
“I wish you would tell me why you're pretending to be a terrorist,” she said plaintively as she sank into his seat.
“I'm almost dead. I deserve to know.”
“You're not going to die.”
“You don't know what you're talking about. I'm puking pieces of my stomach.”
“The medicine,” he said. “I'll get you some. He'll never know.”
“Don't,” she called after him; but he was already in the passage, he had the code punched into the supply- room pad, and it was only when the door had slid open that he understood what she meant. Twelve dozen ampules lay smashed to powder on the floor.
“My God,” he groaned, and leaned against the doorjamb.
“What have you done, Mrs. Payne?”
Her eyes blazed at him.
“I've placed that boy's life in jeopardy, and he helped me do it. I almost lacked the courage. But it had to be done. I had to force Krucevic's hand. Jozset says there's no more medicine here. If he wants to save his son's life, Krucevic must go back to Berlin. He'll abort this insane campaign.”
Michael stared at her in wonder and pity.
“He'll slit your throat for this.”
“But not the throats of a million Muslims, and that is all that matters. I've been a dead woman since Tuesday.” She sank down to the floor, her back against the wall, and took a shuddering breath.
“Would you kill me now? Like that little girl in Bratislava? Before he gets back?”
“Mrs. Payne — ”
“My name is Sophie. I do not think yours is really Michael, somehow.”
“Let me take you back to your room — ”
“I'd rather die where I am,” she interrupted. “Now get out your gun, God damn it.”
“I can't.”
“You must. I order you as the second in command of your country!”
He knelt down before her.
“I told you once I would not let you die at this man's hands. I'm certainly not going to kill you myself.”
“You won't have to. Krucevic will.” Her eyes closed tightly; she drew a rattling breath.
“Give me your gun, then.”
Michael put his hand under Sophie's elbow.
“Come on. Let's get Jozsef. We'll leave now.”
Her eyes flew open.
“Can you get out? Once you're inside?”
“Of course.”
“Jozsef couldn't.”
“Jozsef's a prisoner,” he reminded her brutally. “I'm a jail”
He crossed to the boy's door and pounded on it, hard.
“Jozsef. Hurry up and get dressed.”
“I can't walk anywhere,” Sophie protested faintly. “I'll just hold you back.”
“There's a car in the garage. We'll take that to the U.S. embassy. You'll be in a hospital in an hour.”
The flash of joy that crossed her face was almost too painful to watch.
“Why now?”
He held aloft his computer disk.
“Because it's all here — the entire 30 April Organization. In American hands, as of tonight.”
“But you won't actually get him, will you?” she challenged. “Krucevic will escape. And he'll wreak havoc for the rest of his days.”
“I'll have saved you. That's enough.”
Sophie shook her head.
“Not for me.”
He started to speak started to tell her that once she was returned safely to the United States, Fritz Voekl and Mian Krucevic would have the World Court to contend with but the lies died on his lips.
Tonio was standing in the doorway. How long had he been there? How much had he heard?
“What's going on, Michael?”
“Nothing much. How's your head?” He did not look at Sophie Payne.
Tonio walked toward him, rubbing his eyes groggily.
“Dio, but it aches. I'm going to bed.” His eyes drifted over the room indifferently. They came to rest on the computer.
“Who's been messing with that?”
Michael began to move easily behind him, coming around in position behind his head, the butt of his gun in his hand. It was a myth that you could knock a person out with a single blow; the human skull was extremely sturdy. It required a punishing force. Or a knock at the base of the cranium.
“I turned it on,” Jozsef said from his door. Little-boy sullenness in his voice. “I wanted to play a computer game, Tonio, but I didn't know the access code.”
Sophie Payne had pushed herself, impossibly, to her feet. Her sunken eyes were crazed with fever.
Tonio focused drunkenly on the woman.
“What are you doing out of your cell?”
“I wanted to play, too,” she said.
Tonio swore viciously under his breath and lifted the laptop's lid. Before he wheeled to confront them, Michael's gun crashed down on his skull.
And at that moment, they all heard the sound of the garage door opening.
Mian Krucevic was back.
Three
Budapest, 2:15 a.m.
Mirjana Tarcic was parked in an alley near Bela Horvath's house, about a hundred feet beyond his small backyard. Vaclav Slivik had never noticed her, a lapse in his tradecraft and judgment; but Mian had given the assassin too little time to reconnoiter. Mirjana's car was old and indeterminate of color, it was pulled up in the lee
