“And you were caught up in it.”

Charlie looked him full in the face. “I was one of the two leaders.” Reacting to his look, she produced a wan smile. “I told you it was ‘fight or die.’ I was rageful beyond words. Looking back, I suppose I wanted to kill myself as much as I wanted to kill everyone around me.”

“What happened?” Whitman said.

“Time passed. I grew up.”

“And the power struggle?”

“Power in prison is like sand running through your fingers. It’s as fleeting as fame—in other words, useless. That’s the second lesson I learned inside.”

Whitman considered a moment. “I wish you had told me sooner.”

“Why?”

“I could have—”

“You couldn’t have done anything, Whit, believe me. And the last thing I needed was your pity.”

“I wouldn’t have pitied you.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t pity you now, Charlie. I just know you better.”

A shadow of a smile passed across her lips. “A good deal better now than I know you.”

He regarded her levelly. “Are you sure you want to go down that road?”

Slipping her hand from under his, she took his arm, turned it so the tattoo of the dragon was visible. “The dragon,” she said. “What’s in its mouth?”

“It’s the alchemical sigil for sulfur.”

“Why is it in the dragon’s mouth?”

“That,” he said, “is a long story.”

She glanced at her watch. “We still have over seven hours flying time. Is that long enough?”

*   *   *

“I think I have what you want,” Orrin said, his face flushed with triumph as he came through the apartment door.

Julie looked up from the chopping board where she was dicing tomatoes and mincing cilantro. She had gone food shopping, needing to ground herself in some form of normalcy before she lost her mind. Making a meal was the best way for her to feel as if she was in control of her life. The tomato stains on her blouse were testament to her immersion in the activity.

“That’s great news.” She wiped her hands on a paper towel and picked up the file he laid down on the kitchen counter. Opening the folder, she scanned the pages inside. “You didn’t have any trouble finding this information?”

“Some.” He grinned. “But nothing I couldn’t handle.”

She glanced up. “No one knows about your digging around?”

“No one at all.” He took off his jacket, loosened his tie. “Don’t worry. I was careful with every search I made. I left no ISP fingerprints. The AG’s office has its ways.”

“So does NSA,” she said.

“And I’m aware of all of NSA’s ungodly methods. That’s how I make my living, remember?”

She put the file down for the moment. “Make yourself a drink. I’m going to change my shirt.”