"Then don't," Hood said, putting a hand on his shoulder. He looked at Stoll. "Matt, can you download that game to Op-Center?"

Stoll nodded.

"Good. Herr Hausen, do you recognize that photograph of yourself?"

"No, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Hood said. "Matt, have you got anything in your arsenal to handle this?"

Stoll shook his head. "We need a program with a lot more muscle than my MatchBook. That diskette's only good for finding specific pictures. It's like a wordsearch."

"I see," Hood said.

"I'll have to run it through our photo file back home and see if we can find where it came from," Stoll told him.

"The scenery behind Herr Hausen is also a photograph," Hood said.

"A clear one too," Stoll said. "Probably not from a magazine. I can have my office run the Geologue and see what it tells us."

The Geologue was a detailed satellite relief study of the world. From it, computers could generate an acre-by-acre view of the planet from any angle. It would take a few days, but if the photograph hadn't been tinkered with, the Geologue would tell them where it was taken.

Hood told Stoll to proceed. The Operations Support Officer phoned his assistant, Eddie Medina, to let him know the images were coming.

Hood squeezed Hausen's shoulder. "Let's go for a walk."

"Thank you, no," Hausen replied.

"I need it," Hood said. "This has been a strange morning for me too."

Hausen managed a small smile. "All right," he said.

"Good. Matt-- call me on the cellular if you get something."

"So let it be written, so let it be done," said the unflappable techno-whiz.

"Herr Lang," said Hood, "Matt may need some help with the language."

"I understand," Lang said. "I'll stay here with him."

Hood smiled graciously. "Thanks. We won't be long."

With his hand still on Hausen's shoulder, Hood and the German walked through the reception area to the elevator.

Hausen was lying, of course. Hood had encountered his kind before. He wanted very much to talk about whatever was bothering him, but his pride and dignity wouldn't allow it.

Hood would wear him down. It was more than a coincidence that what had just happened in the office was similar to what had happened this morning on Billy Squires's computer. And if this was happening simultaneously on two continents, then Op-Center needed to know why.

Fast.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Thursday, 10:02 A.M.,

Washington, D.C.

After his encouraging chat with Brett August, the morning sped by for Mike Rodgers. Matt Stoll's assistant Eddie briefed him on what was happening in Germany, and told him he'd put in a call for assistance to Bernard Ballon of the Gendarmarie Nationale. Ballon was on a mission against terrorists, the New Jacobins, and had not returned the call.