======================
Field Decision
by Ed Howdershelt
======================

Copyright (c)2003 by Ed Howdershelt
First published via Abintra Press

Abintra Press
www.abintrapress.tripod.com

Fiction


---------------------------------
NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original
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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.




                                                                                 Page 1
       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




                                                                                 Page 2
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




                                                                                 Page 3
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




                                                                                 Page 4
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




                                                                                 Page 5
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




                                                                                 Page 6
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




                                                                                 Page 7
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.




                                                                                 Page 8
       "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




                                                                                 Page 9
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




                                                                                 Page 10
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




                                                                                 Page 11
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.




                                                                                 Page 12
       "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




                                                                                 Page 13
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."




                                                                                 Page 14
       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."




                                                                                 Page 15
       "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."




                                                                                 Page 16
       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




                                                                                 Page 17
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?"




                                                                                 Page 18
       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."




                                                                                 Page 19
       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




                                                                                 Page 20
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




                                                                                 Page 21
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




                                                                                 Page 22
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




                                                                                 Page 23
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




                                                                                 Page 24
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




                                                                                 Page 25
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




                                                                                 Page 26
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?"




                                                                                 Page 27
       "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.




                                                                                 Page 28
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




                                                                                 Page 29
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




                                                                                 Page 30
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




                                                                                 Page 31
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.




                                                                                 Page 32
       "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."




                                                                                 Page 34
       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




                                                                                 Page 35
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.




                                                                                 Page 36
         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




                                                                                  Page 37
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




                                                                                 Page 38
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.




                                                                                 Page 39
       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.




                                                                                 Page 42
       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.




                                                                                 Page 43
       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."




                                                                                 Page 44
       "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




                                                                                 Page 46
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."




                                                                                 Page 47
       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




                                                                                 Page 51
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




                                                                                 Page 52
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."




                                                                                 Page 53
--------
          *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




                                                                                 Page 54
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




                                                                                 Page 55
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




                                                                                 Page 59
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."




                                                                                 Page 60
       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?"




                                                                                 Page 61
       "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




                                                                                 Page 62
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."




                                                                                 Page 68
       "_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




                                                                                 Page 69
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."




                                                                                 Page 70
       "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,




                                                                                 Page 71
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."




                                                                                 Page 78
       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."




                                                                                 Page 79
       "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.




                                                                                 Page 83
         "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




                                                                                 Page 85
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




                                                                                 Page 86
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




                                                                                 Page 87
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."




                                                                                 Page 91
       "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."




                                                                                 Page 92
       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




                                                                                 Page 93
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




                                                                                 Page 94
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




                                                                                 Page 101
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?"




                                                                                 Page 115
       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."




                                                                                 Page 118
       "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




                                                                                 Page 122
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."




                                                                                 Page 123
       _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




                                                                                 Page 125
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."




                                                                                 Page 126
       "_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?"




                                                                                 Page 134
       "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."




                                                                                 Page 136
--------
          *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?"




                                                                                 Page 138
       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.




                                                                                 Page 139
       "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"




                                                                                 Page 146
         "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"
         ****
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