"Gee," Stoll said. "That doesn't put too much pressure on me, does it?" He returned the folder to Ballon.

"That is what separates professionals from amateurs," Ballon noted.

Nancy glared at Ballon. "I'm thinking that a professional wouldn't have let these terrorists get inside. I'm also thinking that Dominique has stolen, possibly killed, and is ready to start wars. But he gets the job done. Does that make him a professional?"

Ballon replied evenly, "Men like Dominique disregard the law. We don't have that luxury."

"Bull," she said. "I live in Paris. Most Americans are treated like shit by everyone from landlords to gendarmes. The laws don't protect us."

"But you obey the laws, don't you?" he asked.

"Of course."

Ballon said, "One side operating outside the law is still just that. A rogue force. But both sides operating outside the law is chaos."

Hood decided to get in the middle of this one by changing the subject. "How long until we reach the factory?"

"Another fifteen minutes or so." Ballon was still looking at Nancy, who had turned away. "Mlle. Bosworth, your arguments are sound and I regret having spoken harshly to M. Stoll. But there is a great deal at stake." He looked at all of them. "Have any of you considered the risks of success?"

Hood leaned forward. "No, we haven't. What do you mean?"

"If we work surgically and only Dominique falls, his company and its holdings can still survive. But if they fall, billions of dollars will be lost. The French economy and its government will be seriously destabilized. And that will create a vacuum similar to those we have seen in the past." He looked past them toward the van behind them. "A vacuum in which German nationalism historically has flourished. In which German politicians stir the blood." His eyes shifted to Hood. "In which they look with greed at Austria, Sudetenland, Alsace-Lorraine. MM. Hood and Stoll, Mlle. Bosworth-- we are on a tightrope. Caution is our balancing pole and the law is our net. With them, we will reach the other side."

Nancy turned to look out the window. Hood knew she wouldn't apologize. But with her, the fact that she'd stopped arguing meant the same thing.

Hood said, "I also believe in the law and I believe in the systems we've built to protect it. We'll help you get to the other side of that tightrope, Colonel."

Ballon thanked him with a small nod, the first appreciative display he'd shown since they arrived.

"Thanks, Boss," Stoll sighed. "Like I said, that doesn't put too much pressure on me, does it?"

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

Thursday, 9:33 P.M.,

Wunstorf, Germany

When the car died, Jody had lifted her foot from the gas pedal, lay back on the headrest, and shut her eyes.

"I can't move," she panted.

Herbert turned on the overhead light and leaned toward her. "Sweetheart," he said softly, "you have to."

"No."