"My"-- she frowned-- "we're feeling festive. Must've had a good meeting with the President."

"Not really. With my son. What about those files? I thought requisitions from the archives were privileged information."

"Sure. And by noon, the Washington Post'll know. It's pathetic what good people will do for money or Super Bowl tickets. But that's not the problem we have to solve right now. Do you have any idea what kind of PR nightmare we'll have if word gets out that we suspect our allies of being behind this?"

"Can't you spin it?"

"Like a top, Paul. But mistrust is sexy, and that's what everyone's going to play up."

"Whatever happened to truth, justice, and the American way?"

"It died with Superman, friend," Phil said. "And when they brought him back, they forgot about the rest."

Ann tapped a pen on the small notebook she was holding. "What did you want to see me about?"

"Hold on, Ann." Hood had already pressed F6 and his assistant's face filled the screen. "Anything new from the KCIA, Bugs?"

"The lab report's in file BH/1."

"What's in the nutshell?"

"North Korean explosives, boot prints, petrol traces. How's Alexander?"

"Better, thanks. Do me a favor and ask Bob Herbert to come in at eleven." Hood punched the image off. He dragged a hand down his face. "Shit. The KCIA says it's North Korea, but Matty thinks we were invaded by a South Korean virus and Gregory Donald thinks we have South Koreans masquerading as North Koreans. Quite a circus."

"You're quite a ringmaster," Ann said. "What's wrong with Alexander?"

"Asthma attack."

"Poor kid," said Phil, shaking his head as he made for the door. "Freakin' smog doesn't help, this time of year. I'll be with Matty if you need me."

When they were alone, Hood noticed that Ann was looking at him intently. It wasn't the first time he had ever watched her watching him, but today there was something in those dark amber eyes that made him warm and uneasy-- warm because there was compassion in those eyes, and uneasy because it was a feeling he didn't get often enough from his wife. But then, Ann Farris didn't have to live with him.

"Ann," he said, "the President--"

"Paul!" Lowell Coffey said as he swung in, his big hand still on the doorjamb as he nearly collided with Ann.

"Come in," Ann said. "No reason to shut the door with all the leaks around here."

"I hear you," said Coffey. "Paul, I need a second. About that ROK check Matty's running: you've got to make sure that the only words coming from this facility are 'No Comment.' There are confidentiality agreements with Seoul, possible defamation of character if we point the finger at a person or group, and we risk exposure on some of the questionable ways the information on those diskettes was collected."

"Have Martha read everyone the riot act. And have someone on Matt's staff set the computers to transcribe all phone conversations."