Changing of the Guard

wall behind him for a second before Jay’s second shot ended his worries.

Sorry, pal. The rules of the game. Spear-carriers get wiped out fast.

He’d lifted the scenario from an old vid he’d played as a teenager, one of his favorite spy games. The weapons, the sounds, even the imagery — including the occasional computer-glitch blending of enemies with the landscape — was just as he’d remembered it.

It should be, after all the time I spent reverse-engineering it.

Sure, he could be using VR to simulate some static mind puzzle, some way of more accurately mirroring the RW activity he was engaged in, but as always, that wouldn’t be nearly as much fun.

He readied himself for the rush to the entrance. There was a camera on the inside of the doorway — it had warned them he was sneaking in on one of his early attempts. A quick shot upward before stepping through the door, and it’d be gone. Then he’d work his way back to the underground bridge, to see if he could fight his way across.

Sooner or later he’d complete the game mission and at that point, the second part of the code would be cracked. In theory.

He retraced his steps perfectly, taking out guards and cameras, not missing a shot. Everything was going well until, abruptly, the scenario froze.

So did Jay.

A doorway opened into the space, right in the middle of the bridge. Time stalled: Bullets hung frozen in the air, a guard tilted at a forty-five-degree angle in the process of falling, his video-game body painted with pixelated blood.

Through the door stepped Saji.

He frowned — she never bothered him at work — particularly when his don’t-call- me was on. She was one of only two people who could. He’d given the codes only to Alex and Saji.

I’ll have to remember to give them to the new guy, he thought, before he wondered what was so important that she would actually use the access codes.

Something wrong? Somebody sick? Or, worse, somebody dead?

There was certainly something. She had that look to her, a determined set to her VR character.

“This is nice,” she said in a voice that meant exactly the opposite. She waved at the frozen blood spray from the back of the guard.

“I’ll put something else on.” Jay started to switch to a more neutral scenario, but she shook her head.

“I’ve got one,” she said, indicating her doorway.

He followed her and stepped into a zen garden. There were rocks, bonsai trees, and a beautiful stream gurgling in the background.

The detail was amazing. A mosquito buzzed by, and was eaten by a bird that swooped down to catch it. Eddies and currents in the stream moved in endless, almost-random patterns. A cool breeze touched his cheek, and the smell of pine needles wafted over him.

She indicated a bench, and he sat on it, a smooth wooden surface that had been there so long that the front edge had been worn smooth.

“Nice VR. This is great — even I don’t usually get this detailed. Where’d you get it?”

She smiled, and his heart stilled for a moment — if she could still smile at him like that, the news couldn’t be that bad.

Unless she’s dying. She did have a doctor’s appointment today.

His stomach lurched.

“I’m glad you like it — it’s mine.”

He almost forgot to be worried. Saji had done this? Where had she been hiding her abilities? The VR they’d worked through during his therapy had never been this sharp. This was good.

“Really?”

She laughed. “Yes really. It’s my meditation spot. I’ve worked on it for years.”

“It’s great,” he said. “Amazing. Really.”

She grinned. “Glad that the top VR jock at Net Force approves!”

Then: “Because I’ve got something to tell you.”

This was it. What could be this important? What could be such serious news that she’d come to work and get him — in VR — and show him her most private meditation?

“Saji? Is everything okay? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. You might need to take a deep breath, though.”

“Me?”

His face must have shown his confusion, because she smiled, and then took his hand. “Well, yeah. You’re going to be a father.”

He felt an immense sense of relief — she was okay—

And then: Me? A father?

It was like being hit in the head with a hammer.

He realized she was waiting for him to say something — anything.

“Wow,” he said, stunned. “I mean, wow!” he added, putting some excitement into the word. “That’s… that’s… great!” He grinned.

Saji seemed relieved. She grinned back at him.

She took his hand and squeezed it.

“I wanted to wait until you got home, but I just couldn’t. I’m so excited, Jay! We’re going to have a baby!”

He grinned back at her, enjoying her excitement.

He wasn’t completely sure about his own, but he knew he’d rather take this leap with her than anyone else.

A baby. He was going to be a father. Whoa. Talk about unreal scenarios.

9

Quantico, Virginia

Risks were unavoidable in Eduard Natadze’s line of work. He knew that and accepted that. What he would not accept were unnecessary risks — especially those caused by sloppiness or overconfidence.

He expected no trouble from his current target. He knew Jay Gridley’s habits backward and forward, and knew that the computer jock posed no challenge for him. But still he took no chances.

He had made sure that he was not carrying a photo of Jay Gridley, or anything else that would connect him to Net Force’s top computer jock. The only thing he did carry was an electronic receiver, but even that was simply a standard player with a couple of nonstandard tunings he could wipe with a touch. He didn’t expect to be stopped and searched — they did not do such things here in America — but still, he took no chances. Besides, he did not need any photos. He had already studied his quarry and would know the man when he saw him. He would recognize the automobile the man drove, its license number, and he knew all the likely routes from Net Force HQ to Jay’s home.

He was prepared, at least insofar as he could foresee any problems. He had a transmitter on Jay’s car, a bug stuck under the vehicle’s rear bumper with a powerful magnet, out of sight, to be sure he wouldn’t miss him. He knew where his target was going. If he lost Jay before they reached the operations area, he would just hurry to the secondary pickup point and catch him there.

Natadze was two hours early, just in case, and parked in a place where no one would bother him, in a lot outside a shopping area. He wore a fake moustache, not an obvious one, a pair of thick-rimmed glasses, and had a Band-Aid on his chin, all things that a potential witness would notice, and none of which would be any use to authorities. He would not have to keep a close watch; the bug would tell him as the man approached. It was, as the