Beaman broke through the dense cloud bank a few feet above the frozen lake. He flared out and landed in the center of the body of water. He was just starting to gather in his chute when Chief Johnston fell through the thick, overhanging clouds and landed very near the spot where Beaman had first touched the ground. By the time Beaman had his chute folded, everyone else was on the ground, all landing within a few hundred feet of each other.

The jump gear was folded into weighted bags. They melted a hole in the ice with a thermite charge and sank the bags into the depths. The chance of someone ever finding the gear was very remote.

Twenty minutes after the team landed, the only sign that anyone had been there was a hole in the ice, and it was already covered over with a thin layer of new ice. It would be gone in half an hour.

There were also seven sets of ski tracks heading off to the east. With the light snowfall that had begun and the gusting wind, even those signs were gone within the hour.

Beaman’s team was in. Now they could go about their business.

Chapter 17

Catherine Goldman stared hard at the handset before she put it back against her ear. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It was only a couple of days after her run-in with the taxicab and a mere two weeks after she had started the OptiMarx testing, and now, out of the blue, Stan Miller was yanking her off the project. It didn’t make sense!

There he was, as oily smooth as ever, on the other end of the line, giving her the hook. What in hell was happening here? She prided herself on being able to see around corners, but this one had sneaked up on her. So far, she couldn’t quite put it all together.

“Catherine, you must take a rest,” Miller cooed. “Look, you can just go on down to the Caribbean for a few weeks of taxpayer-paid vacation. I can imagine how bad you must feel after what’s happened.”

Her first instinct was to protest, to convince Miller the incident with the cab had not affected her work at all. “Stan, I’m all right. I’d prefer staying here. Besides, I’m convinced that I’m on to something—”

“Hold on!” the deputy director interrupted her. “Catherine, for once in your life, don’t argue. It’s all set up. You have been temporarily assigned as the SEC liaison to the Jamaican Stock Exchange. McLain insists.”