Hausen extended an arm toward the door. He had the eager, impatient manner of someone hurrying dinner guests out into the night. Hood hadn't seem him so animated all day. Was this, as he suspected, Ahab finally closing in on the White Whale-- or was it, as Ballon believed, a politician about to score an unprecedented public relations coup?

Hood took Nancy's hand and started toward the door. She resisted. He stopped and turned back. She was no longer the confident woman who strode toward him in the park. Nancy was a sad and lonely figure, seductive in her need.

He knew what she was thinking. That she should be opposing them, not helping them destroy what was left of her life. As he watched her stand there, he flirted with the idea of telling her what she wanted to hear, of lying to her and saying that they could try again. His job was to protect the nation and he needed her help for that.

And once you tell that lie, he thought, you can lie to Mike and your staff, to Congress, even to Sharon.

"Nancy, you'll have work," Hood told her. "I said I'd help you and I will." He was going to remind her again who walked out on whom, but what was the point? Women weren't consistent or fair.

"But that's my problem, not yours," Nancy said. It was as if she'd read his mind and was determined to prove him wrong. "You say you need my help if you get inside. Fine. I won't walk out on you a second time."

Snapping her head the way she did in the hotel lobby, she walked toward Hausen. The long, blond hair swept to the side, as if it were brushing away doubt and anger.

Hausen thanked her, thanked them all, as the five of them entered the elevator for the quick ride to the lobby.

Hood stood beside Nancy. He wanted to thank her, but just saying it didn't seem to be enough. Without looking at her, he squeezed her hand and quickly released it. From the corner of his eye he saw Nancy blink several times, the only break in her otherwise stoic expression.

He couldn't remember when he felt both this close and this far from a person. It was frustrating being unable to move in one direction or the other, and he could only imagine how much worse it felt for Nancy.

And then she let him know by reaching over and squeezing his hand and not releasing it as tears crept from her eyes. The ping of the elevator as they reached the lobby broke their touch but not the spell as she released him and they walked, eyes ahead, toward the waiting car.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Thursday, 1:40 P.M.,

Washington, D.C.