〃Gone。〃
Megan closed her eyes。 〃What did he bring in？〃
〃Smallpox。〃
〃Dear God！〃
〃Listen to me； Megan。 You're at ground zero。 We thought that Treloar might be dirty。 Now we're sure that he was。 The question is； did he have acplices in the shuttle program？〃
〃I don't know；〃 Megan replied。 〃It seems impossible。 These are all dedicated individuals。 As far as I can tell； there's nothing suspicious going on。〃 She shook her head。 〃But then again； I missed Treloar； didn't I？〃
〃Everybody missed him；〃 Klein replied。 〃Don't beat yourself up over that。 The key is to find the smallpox。 Covert…One is working on the assumption that it's somewhere in the D。C。 area。 Whoever has it would not want to transport it any more than is absolutely necessary。 And from London； Treloar could have taken a nonstop flight anywhere… Chicago； Miami； Los Angeles。 He chose D。C。 for a reason。 We think that's where the storage facility has been set up。〃
〃Do you still want me to go ahead and fly on the shuttle？〃
〃Absolutely。 But until that bird is off the pad； don't draw attention to yourself。 If you spot anything suspicious； call me immediately。〃 He paused。 〃And Megan； if we don't have a chance to talk again； good luck and e home safely。〃
Klein broke the connection and Megan found herself staring at a dead phone。 She had been very tempted to ask Klein if Jon Smith also worked for Covert…One； if that had been the reason for his evasiveness。 Like her； Jon was someone with no mitments； few attachments； and was a crisis…proven specialist。 Megan recalled the day when； during one of her brief visits stateside； Klein had materialized in her life； quietly offering to make her part of something special； unique； giving her a greater sense of purpose and direction。 She also remembered him telling her how she would probably never meet another member of Covert…One； that part of her usefulness lay in the worldwide contact network she had built up； men and women she could turn to for information； favors； sanctuary。
Klein would never tell me。。。。 And neither would Jon i f he were involved。
As she double…checked her packing； Megan thought of what Klein and Jon had said to her； to e home safely。 But if Klein didn't find the smallpox； would there be anything to e home to？
The NASA security office occupied the northeast corner of the administration building's second floor。 Smith handed over his Pentagon ID and waited as the duty officer scanned it into the puter。
〃Where's your manding officer？〃 Smith asked。
〃Sir； I'm sorry。 We're in the middle of a shift change。 Colonel Brewster has left the building； Colonel Reeves is running late due to。。。 ah； personal matters。〃
〃I can't wait around for the colonel。 Clear me through。〃
〃But； sir…〃
〃Lieutenant； what is my clearance？〃
〃COSMIC； sir。〃
〃Which means that I can examine anything in this facility； right down to your last fitness report。 Correct？〃
〃Yes； sir！〃
〃Now that we're clear on that； here's what we'll do： you will follow the appropriate procedures to log me in。 You will not mention my arrival to anyone except Colonel Reeves； with whom you will talk to face to face。 If the colonel wishes to speak with me； inform him that I will be in the Records Room。〃
〃Yes； sir。 Is there anything the Records Room can get for you？〃
〃Just tell the staff to ignore me。 Now let's get moving； Lieutenant。〃
As he was buzzed through the bulletproof doors； Smith thought that his bad…guy act had achieved the desired effect： the subordinate was cowed； his peer； Colonel Reeves； would be annoyed and curious； but also wary。 There was good reason why Reeves would not likely go around asking about Smith。
Technically； NASA is a civilian program。 But in the early 1970s； when the agency finally decided on the kind of shuttle it needed and how to launch it； it discovered that it had no alternative but to turn to the air force。 A devil's bargain was struck： in return for the Pentagon's deeming the shuttle 〃an essential military requirement；〃 NASA would not only get to use the air force's Atlas and Titan booster rockets for its launches； it would also be the beneficiary of a steady revenue stream。 The other side of the coin was that the agency was at the mercy of the Pentagon's whims and interference。 Colonel Reeves held senior rank with the NASA hierarchy； but those who carried the Pentagon's coveted COSMIC pass represented the true masters。
Smith followed the lieutenant through a maze of corridors that dead…ended at a fireproof door。 After punching in the codes； the officer pulled back the door and stepped to the side to allow Smith to enter。 The room was at least ten degrees cooler than the rest of the floor。 There was no sound save for the hum of machines； ten of the fastest puters ever built； linked to data…storage towers and PC units nestled in individual workstations。
Smith felt the eyes of the Records Room staff flicker over him； but their curiosity was short…lived。 He followed the officer to a workstation well away from the others。
〃This is Colonel Reeves's unit；〃 the duty officer explained。 〃I'm sure he won't mind if you use it。〃
〃Thank you； Lieutenant。 I don't expect to be too long… assuming I'm not interrupted。〃
〃Understood； sir。〃 He handed Smith a cell phone。 〃Just dial three…zero…nine when you're through； sir。 I'll e and get you。〃
Smith settled himself in front of the monitor； activated the puter； and fed in the floppy he'd brought with him。 Within seconds； he had overridden all the security blocks and had the entire Houston NASA network at his fingertips。
The information on Adam Treloar that Smith had received from the other federal agencies was merely a starting point。 Smith had traveled to Houston to begin tracking Treloar where he had lived and worked。 He needed the internal and external phone logs； interoffice E…mail； anything that resembled a trail… electronic or otherwise。 There he would learn how Treloar had lived； whom he'd spoken with and met； how often； where； for how long。 He would peel back the traitor's life like a stalk of celery； searching for that one anomaly； coincidence； or pattern that would be the first link in the chain leading to Treloar's coconspirators。
Smith tapped a few keys and began at what seemed like a logical point： who knew that Treloar had been to Russia？ Hidden in these wafer…thin chips and fiber optics might be instructions… and names to go with them。
When Dylan Reed arrived at his office； he had no way of knowing that Smith had already begun his search。 So intent was he on the morning's crowded agenda that he almost ignored the ping from his puter； signaling an alert。 Absently； he punched in a sequence of numbers； his mind still on the first meeting of the day。 The name that popped up on the screen got his immediate attention： Adam Treloar。
Someone's snooping！
Reed's hand flew to the phone。 Seconds later； he was listening as the security duty officer explained Smith's presence in the Records Room。
Reed strained to remain calm。 〃No； it's fine；〃 he told the officer。 〃Please tell Colonel Reeves that our visitor is not to be disturbed。〃
Our visitor！ An intruder！
Reed took a moment to steady himself。 What the hell was Smith doing here？ Word out of Washington was that the police were treating Treloar's death as just another mugging； albeit with unintended consequences。 Even the newscasts found the story mundane； a development that had pleased Reed； Bauer； and Richardson。
Reed slammed his palm against the leather blotter on his desk。 Damn Smith！ He recalled how frightened； almost terrified； Treloar had been of Smith。 Now； the same iciclelike fingers that had danced up and down Treloar's spine had turned themselves on him。
Reed took a deep breath。 Bauer had been right to suggest that Reed flag all files relating to Treloar； in case someone came looking。
And someone has。。。
The more Reed thought about it； the less surprised he was that Smith was the intruder。 Smith had a reputation for tenacity that made an already dangerous man potentially lethal。 Reed made sure that his nerves were settled before he dialed General Richardson at the Pentagon。
〃This is Reed。 That potential problem we talked about？ I