“What's past is past. It's the future that we should both be concerned about.” Petrov's hand went to his scar. “You know, Mr. Austin, you taught me a very valuable lesson.”

Which is?"

“Know your enemy.”

Austin was hustled down the dark hallway into the rickety elevator. Minutes later, he was in the taxi. The driver kept the car more or less under Mach I. Before long, they pulled up at the exact point where he'd been kidnapped.

“Out,” said the driver.

Austin was glad to comply. He had to jump back to keep his toes from being crushed as the car sped off in a squeal of tires. He watched the taillights vanish around a corner, then walked to the Argo's slip. Back aboard the ship, he called the hotel where Kaela was staying. When she didn't answer her room phone, he asked the desk if she'd left a message.

“Yes, sir, there's a message from Ms. Dorn,” the desk clerk said.

“Would you read it to me, please.”

“Of course. It says, 'Waited an hour. Something more important must have come up. Went to dinner with the boys. Kaela.' ”

Austin frowned. The message said nothing about getting together at another time. He would have to mend fences in the morning. Meanwhile, he went out on the Argo's deck and paced from one end of the ship to the other, trying to remember every detail of the dialogue with Ivan. As he walked, his lips tightened in determination. Damned if he was going to ignore a threat to his country. The best way to get Austin to do something was to tell him he couldn't do it. He went back into his cabin and punched out a number on his cell phone.

FIVE THOUSAND MILES away, José “Joe” Zavala plucked the purring cell phone from the dashboard holder of his 1961 Corvette convertible and answered with a cheery hello. Zavala had been thinking how all was right with the world. He was young,.healthy and on an undemanding work project that left him plenty of free time. At his side was a lovely blond statistical analyst from the Department of Commerce. They were driving along a country road in MacLean, Virginia, on their way to a candlelight dinner at a romantic old inn. The warm air pleasantly tousled his thick black hair. After dinner it would be back to the former district library building in Arlington, where he lived, for a nightcap. Then, who knows? The possibilities were endless. This could be the start of a long relationship, long being a relative term in Zavala's world.

When he heard the voice of his friend and colleague, Zavala's reaction was a happy one. A slight smile cracked the ends of his lips “Buona sera, Kurt, old amigo. How's your vacation?”

“Over. So is yours, I'm sorry to say.”