"Do your teammates feel the same way you do?"

"Not all," he admitted. "They're committed only to-- what's the word? The limitations? Boundaries?"

"Parameters," said Hood.

"Yes." Ballon snapped his fingers. "They're committed to the parameters of the mission. That's all I ask of you as well. If you help me prove what Demain is doing, if you give me a reason to go inside, we can bring Dominique down. Today."

Hood said, "Fair enough. One way or another, we'll get there." He added, "Et merci. "

Ballon replied with a gruff thank you of his own, then sat holding the handset. He dropped his finger on the plunger.

"Good news?" asked Sergeant Ste. Marie.

"Very good news," Ballon replied without enthusiasm. "We have help. Unfortunately, it's an American and a German. Richard Hausen."

Ste. Marie moaned. "We can all go home. The Hun will take Dominique singlehandedly."

"We'll see," said Ballon. "We'll see what his pluck is like when there are no reporters present to admire it." With a short aftershock of outrage-- "Americans and a German," he declared-- Ballon called the office of an old friend in the CDT, the Comite Departemental de Tourisme, to see if they could simply look the other way when the plane arrived, or if he'd have to tangle with the territorial carnivores in Paris

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Thursday, 6:59 P.M.,

Hamburg, Germany

Martin Lang was on his cellular phone as Hood helped Matt Stoll gather together his equipment. Lang was phoning the airport outside of Hamburg, ordering the corporate jet to be readied. Stoll was zipping up his backpack and looking anxious.

"Maybe I missed something when you were explaining it to Herr Lang," Stoll said, "but tell me again why I'm going to France."

Hood said, "You're going to T-Ray the Demain factory in Toulouse."

"That part I got," said Stoll. "But someone else is going to go inside, right? Professionals?"

Hood looked from Stoll to Hausen. The German was standing in the doorway between the two offices, phoning to arrange for clearances for Lang's Learjet 36A. The aircraft held two crew members and six passengers and had a range of 3,151 miles. At an average speed of four hundred miles an hour, they should arrive right on schedule.

"Done," said Lang, hanging up. He checked his watch. "The plane will be waiting at seven-thirty."

Hood was still watching Hausen as a thought occurred to him. One which chilled and then annoyed him. Hausen's aide had turned on him. What if the office was bugged?

Hood pulled Stoll aside. "Matt, I'm getting sloppy. That kid who worked for Hausen, Reiner. He could have left a bug here."