When the elevator stopped on the second floor to discharge some of the passengers, Jan couldn’t take it any longer. In desperation she squeezed herself between two men in front of her and slipped by her own crew. Dumbfounded by her unexpected and irrational flight, the cameraman watched Jan as the door of the elevator closed between them.

For a moment she just stood there. As beads of sweat began to drip down her brow, Jan stared at the outer doors of the elevator trying hard to regain her composure. While she was still in a Federal building and, in theory, no safer here than she would have been in the elevator, somehow, just being free of the press of people in an enclosed space made a difference. Was this, she finally found herself thinking as she felt her pounding heart begin to slow to its normal rhythm, what the terrorists are after? Is this the sort of fear and panic they are seeking to sow in the hearts and minds of their fellow Americans? Why? she wondered. Why did they want to do this to us? To me?

After what seemed like an eternity, she found she was able to move, and Jan turned away from the dreaded elevator. As she made her way to the stairway, she found that she could not escape the irony of this incident. After so many years of being exposed to violence all over the world, Jan realized that she had finally come to feel true fear and panic in the country that had always been synonymous with safety and security. A land that was her home.

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 11

BOISE, IDAHO • EARLY MORNING, OCTOBER 30

Slowly Tim Werner passed his razor under the faucet, flushing away the shaving cream and accumulated stubble. With more effort than it should have taken, he looked up at the face in the mirror before him. The dark circles under the eyes and pale, gaunt expression belonged to a man who had been beaten down and humiliated, not a special agent in charge of a field office. Mechanically lifting the razor to his face, Werner took a few short, quick strokes. He was used to having his way. He was a man that his superiors turned to when they had a case no one else could handle. As he eased the razor across his chin Werner found himself asking where he had gone wrong. When had he lost control of this investigation? He even began to wonder if had ever been in control.