The night sped by. The other cars sped up. And then he saw two pale figures amidst the dark foliage on the left side of the road. They ducked back quickly.

"That was one arm of Richter's team," the Hauptmann said. "I can smell those bastards at one hundred twenty miles an hour. Slow down."

The driver obliged. Seconds later, two people struggled from the woods. A man in a wheelchair with a young woman behind him.

"Stop!" Rosenlocher said.

The driver touched the brakes and pulled over as Rosenlocher picked up his radio. The other cars also slowed.

"Two and Three," he said to the other cars, "you see them?"

"We see them in Two."

"We've got them in Three."

The Hauptmann said, "Two, you cover the south flank. Three, you pull up and take the north. I'll bring them in."

The three cars stopped twenty meters apart on the side of the road. The drivers remained behind the wheels as the police officers emerged on the passengers' sides. In the event of casualties, they would race to the hospital in Hanover. The officers in Two and Three moved south and north. In the dark, they set up a skirmish line behind the railing at the side of the road. If they or the Americans were fired upon, their orders were to shoot to kill.

Rosenlocher was the first one over the guardrail. He was less than thirty meters from the edge of the woods, where Bob Herbert and Jody Thompson were rushing to outrace their pursuers.

Rosenlocher raised the shotgun. He aimed at the area behind the woman where he saw movement.

"Come!" he called to Herbert.

Jody continued to push. She was panting and stumbling but she wasn't stopping.

Rosenlocher watched the others. He saw faces in the headlights as traffic passed. Young faces. Some were angry, some were frightened. He knew that all it took was one misstep, for whatever reason, to cause this situation to get out of hand. He hoped that self-preservation would win out and no one would lose his cool.

He could see the Americans' faces clearly now. Herbert was intense as he turned his wheels. Jody was sobbing as she half-pushed, half-leaned on the chair.

Rosenlocher concentrated his aim on a clutch of young men who had emerged from the woods. Bold men, obviously, willing to sacrifice their lives to make a statement. After a moment, however, he knew that they weren't going to attack. Rosenlocher didn't see Karin or Manfred. He didn't know why they weren't here, but he did know that without the head the body wasn't going to think. And without the heart it wasn't going to act. Whatever these ruffians were capable of doing to lone adversaries, they weren't willing to take on a trained force.