"Got them," said the other young man as he pulled the keys from Streetcorna's pocket. He rose.

The assailant withdrew casually, as though he were returning to his corner to serve again after hitting a net ball. The two men stood side-by-side as a crowd gathered and formed a loose, threatening circle around them.

"They can't get us all!" someone yelled.

The man with the keys reached into his bag and withdrew a.45. "Like hell we can't," he said.

The crowd didn't so much part as come apart. The men walked through, up Laurel Canyon, ignoring the glares of the pedestrians and the shouts of those in the back. They found Streetcoma's car and got in. They knew it from days of having watched the rapper. Turning onto Laurel Canyon, they headed up into the Hollywood Hills. Unpursued, they were quickly swallowed in the traffic headed toward Hollywood.

Police arrived nearly seven minutes later, and a helicopter search was ordered. The chopper spotted the car parked near the intersection of Coldwater Canyon and Mulholland Drive. It was abandoned and clean. Employees at the fire station on top of the hill remembered seeing a car idling on the side of the road, but no one could remember what kind it was or what the driver looked like. No one saw the Volkswagen arrive or the waiting car leave.

When the police confiscated Streetcorna's bag, there were no tapes, just four hundred dollars and change.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Thursday, 6:41 P.M.,

Hamburg, Germany

Paul Hood arrived at Hausen's office with Nancy walking a few paces behind him. She entered tentatively, as though she weren't sure whether she'd find friends or enemies here. What she found, at the moment, were people completely wrapped up in their own concerns.

Hausen was talking on a cellular phone in the reception area. He had obviously determined that the security of his office phones had probably been compromised. The cellular phone wasn't secure, but at least he wouldn't have to worry that the enemy was listening to everything he said.

Lang was sitting on the edge of the desk, lips pressed tightly together as he looked down at Hausen. Matt Stoll was still sitting at Hausen's computer in the main office.

Hausen was speaking forcefully in German with someone named Erwin. German always seemed harsh to Hood, but this conversation seemed especially so. And Hausen did not look pleased.

Lang walked over to them. Hood introduced him to Nancy. "This is Nancy Jo Bosworth. She's an employee of Demain." Even as he said it, he couldn't believe the words were coming from his mouth. He had to have been insane to have gone back to get her. Completely and utterly insane.

"I see," Lang said with a polite, pursed smile.

"I'm not a friend of Dominique's," she added. "I don't know him."

"It appears that few do," Lang said, still smiling tightly.