Ironic but fitting, Rosenlocher thought. Perhaps we have learned something after all. If you confront tyrants early enough you'll find that all of them are dressed in the Emperor's New Clothes.

Rosenlocher savored that thought as he had the pleasure of passing the telephone back to Bob Herbert so he could tell his superior that the mission had been accomplished.

It had indeed.

CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

Firday, 12:16 A.M.,

Wunstorf, Germany

Felix Richter watched the members of his hunting party straggle back.

"Where are the Americans?" he demanded.

Rolf was among the first people to return. He looked at the bodies of Karin and Manfred. Their heads and shoulders had been covered by windbreakers. They reminded him of dogs which had been run over in traffic. He looked away.

Richter walked up to him. "What happened?"

"The police were waiting," he said. "There was nothing to do."

Richter screamed, "Is that what Karin Doring would have said? That there was nothing to do?"

"Karin would have been there doing it," someone yelled back, "not waiting for us to come back. Karin wasn't a talker."

"I never said I was Karin Doring--"

"No," said Rolf, "you're not. And I'm leaving."

Richter stepped in front of him. "Listen to me. All of you. You can't let the legacy die because of a setback. We owe it to those who came before us to fight on."

Several people stopped to pick up the bodies. Others waited for them.

"Don't let this end!" Richter said.

The men moved past him to join those who were still waiting at the camp. Rolf followed the flashlight beams which carved through the dark. Were these meager things the spotlights Richter had spoken of, the ones which were supposed to shine across their symbols and accomplishments?

"This is a setback, not a defeat," Richter said. "Don't let them stop us!"

The men continued to walk.

Richter repeated the lines verbatim, his voice rising as he tried to reignite the fervor of the rally.

Jean-Michel said from behind, "They don't care about your distinctions, Herr Richter. They only know that they've lost their heart. If you're clever and determined, perhaps you'll get some of them back. But now it is time to go home."

Jean-Michel looked toward the beams of light and followed, leaving Richter alone in the dark.

CHAPTER SEVENTY

Friday, 12:17 A.M.,

Toulouse, France

The Osprey hung over the field like a storm cloud, dark and rumbling, its navigation lights flashing lightning. Colonel August stood in the cockpit, behind the pilot, as the craft rose to one thousand feet.