countrymen, and certainly one in the view of the United States Army.
Traitors who kill their own people are shot or locked away in a military stockade for a very long time. Instead, in a very short period of time after the incident Loan Ka had related, Veil Kendry had been set free to turn up on the streets of New York City, where he had remained unmolested by anyone but himself-until many years later, when someone had winged a shot through his window. Although the bullet had been fired from a rooftop across an alley from Veil's loft, I was absolutely certain that the shot had also been traveling through a warp of space and time, traversing thousands of miles and nearly twenty years.
'It is all I can tell you,' Loan Ka finished softly. 'I hope it will be of help.'
'Kathy?' I said, turning to the young woman. 'On the morning Veil rescued you and the other children, did he have any blood on his uniform when he came out of the brothel?'
'No, Dr. Frederickson. I'm certain that his uniform was still clean.'
'Thank you,' I said, wearily rising to my feet. 'I'm not sure how I can use this information; I am sure Veil wanted me to have it. I'll let you know how things turn out.'
'What will you do now?' Loan Ka asked as his wife, two sons, and the grandmother came into the room.
'Go back to New York, think about the things you've told me, and try to sort some things out.'
'You said that these men wish to kill you, too. You're in a great deal of danger yourself, aren't you?'
'Some.'
'Then you must be doubly careful. You're being followed.'
I turned quickly toward Loan Ka, swallowed hard. 'How do you know that?' I asked, trying to keep my sudden attack of panic out of my voice. If it were true, I didn't even want to think about the possible consequences to this man and his family, and to Kathy.
'You've attracted a great deal of attention from the time you rode your bike into our neighborhood and tacked up the first poster. Many eyes have been watching you. Those same eyes watched what was going on around you; it was observed that a car was following you on your rounds-a late model Ford, dark blue or black.'
My mouth was very dry, and I swallowed again. It didn't help. 'Loan Ka, I could have sworn I wasn't being followed. I kept looking back-'
'You wouldn't have seen him. He took care to keep a safe distance behind you, and he was driving with his lights out.' The Hmong took a slip of paper out of his pocket, handed it to me. 'This is the license plate number of the car, written down when the car passed under a streetlight. People who caught a glimpse of his silhouette described him as a very big man. One caller said he thought the man might be Oriental, but not Hmong-perhaps Chinese or Vietnamese. I thought the information might be useful to you, and I'm sorry I don't have a better description.'
'Thank you, Loan Ka,' I said quietly as I put the slip of paper into my pocket.
'Would you like us to do something about this man, Mongo? The enemy of you and Archangel becomes our enemy, and there are many good warriors in this neighborhood. We have long memories and have not forgotten or lost our fighting skills.'
It was certainly a tempting thought. My enemies knew I was alive and, despite all the precautions I had taken, I'd been followed, not only to Seattle but through its streets. Still, it would have been an easy matter to shoot me or simply to run me down while I was pedaling merrily along on the bike. It seemed that the word had gone out that there'd been a change of strategy and the quarry was not to be damaged-at least for the time being.
'No, Loan Ka. If this one disappears, whoever's behind him will just send someone else. It's probably better to leave him in place; it's enough for me to know that he's there.'
'As you wish, Mongo. Just let me know if you change your mind. The big Oriental can be made to disappear very quickly.'
'Loan Ka,' I murmured, hoping the others could not hear, 'I believe you and your family may be in danger now. Just the fact that you've talked to me could make you a target. I was careless; I shouldn't have come here. It might be best if you all went away for a while.'
The Hmong dismissed the suggestion with a casual wave of his hand, spoke in a normal tone of voice. 'As I said, Archangel's and your enemies are mine. After the Pathet Lao and Colonel Po, there are few things we fear. This man in the car is not one of them. We'll be careful, but we're safer here then we would be anywhere else.'
'It's not just the man in the car, Loan Ka. There are others. These men are very dangerous. I'm concerned for you-for all of you.'
'Don't be, my friend. There's nothing to worry about. In the meantime, I'm gratified that we could be of some small help. You must be very tired. Jimmy will take you back to your hotel now, or wherever else you wish to go.'
'Loan Ka-'
'We'll be safe, Mongo. Don't worry. Just make certain that you protect yourself.'
'I have to go back to the hotel to pick up some clothes,' I said with a sigh. 'Then I could use a lift to the airport. There's a late flight to New York.'
'As you wish,' the Hmong said, nodding to the boy named Jimmy.
'Sorry about your car, Loan Ka,' I said, heading toward the door.
'It's not a problem; the insurance company will pay for it. If only all things could be as easy to repair as broken windows.'
'Yes.'
'When you find Archangel, tell him that the Hmong have not forgotten.'
'I'll tell him, but it won't be necessary. He knew you wouldn't forget.'
9
Loan Ka's son and I were alone on the highway-until a car, traveling at high speed, shot by us and quickly disappeared into the darkness up ahead. The car had sped by too fast for me even to identify the make, much less note the license plate number, but it was enough to make me suspicious-and sufficiently nervous to ease the Beretta surreptitiously out of its shoulder holster and hold it in my hand, next to my right leg.
We reached the airport without incident, but I was still suspicious. I asked Jimmy to take a turn through the parking area collectively used by the car rental agencies for returns, and almost immediately spotted a dark blue, late model Ford; the license plate number matched the one on the slip of paper Loan Ka had handed to me. Whatever else my shadow might be, he was a clever fellow; after seeing me leave the hotel with my bags, he'd preceded me to the airport and would be accompanying me on my flight back to New York. Cute. At the least, I hoped it meant Loan Ka and his family would be safe.
The 'red eye' flight from Seattle to New York was less than half full, and I was the last passenger to get on. The best candidate for the man who was tracking me was sitting by himself in the window seat over the left wing. He was big, all right, and even though he was seated and slumped forward slightly as he read a magazine, I estimated his height to be at least six feet five or six inches. Not certain what, if anything, I wanted to do next, I squatted down in the aisle and pretended to tie my shoelace while I thought about it.
I decided that there was no way the man could know that I was aware he was following me. It was some advantage, but so minuscule as to be virtually worthless. Since I couldn't very well follow him while he was supposed to be following me, I was left in an almost totally passive position while he controlled all the options- including that of perfunctorily blowing me away if his marching orders were abruptly changed. I'd never liked passive positions and, as risky and uncertain a move as it might be, I decided to gamble for more while I had the opportunity, to see what would happen, or what I might discover, if I put a sharper edge on the situation.
'Mind if I sit here?' I asked as I dropped into the empty seat next to the big man. 'I get airsick if I don't sit over the wing.'
The man lowered his magazine and casually studied me with khaki-colored eyes that were so pale as to seem almost white; they were cold eyes, startling and chilling, and I had the distinct impression that they were
