Without bothering to respond by radio, Gabe gave Grendel's reins the slightest right-hand tug and then urged him ahead. The powerful animal spun like a seasoned rodeo performer and charged back down the trail. Gabe was pleased to see the size of the gap that had opened up between them and the agents. If they were paying as much attention to the president as they were to their horses, which wasn't likely, it would still be hard for them to realize, or to believe, that he was still moving away.

Confusion and distraction. Those were his biggest allies now. Confusion and distraction.

Even at a distance, he could see that the agents' horses were in no condition to keep going. Two were standing still, muzzles hanging down almost to the ground, their riders still sitting in their saddles, urging them forward. The third, Griswold's mount, was leaning against a hickory, contentedly rubbing his shoulder against the shaggy bark. Griswold was standing by the tree, looking into the horse's eye. But best of all, both the corpsman and the nurse were out of the van, checking to see if they could be of any help.

Be calm, Gabe urged himself as he dismounted and led Grendel toward the van. Be calm and look like you know what you're doing.

The handle of the hunting knife was in his palm, the blade concealed up along his forearm.

"Would somebody go after the president," Griswold ordered.

"This guy won't move," one of the agents said.

Gabe bent over and hammered the broad blade through the sidewall of the left rear tire. Soundlessly the van sank toward that side.

"Then get down and run!" Griswold was shouting. "Never mind, never mind. I'll get him myself. Hey, Mr. President. Stop!"

Of the three agents, Special Agent in Charge Griswold was carrying the most bulk. Exactly what shape he was in, Gabe mused, would be determined momentarily. Griswold threw off his windbreaker and started sprinting after Stoddard. With everyone watching Griswold, Gabe was able to take out the right rear tire with a single adrenaline-driven thrust. The van dropped to its rear end like a prizefighter who had just taken one to his glass jaw.

"I'll get him!" Gabe hollered to no one in particular. "I'll get him!"

He couldn't remember the last time he had done a running mount, but he never hesitated. With massive Grendel charging from standstill to full gallop in a single step, Gabe grasped the dense mane with his left hand and the saddle horn with his right and jammed his left foot into the stirrup. He went to push off his right foot, but he was already airborne, sailing along beside the powerful horse like a streamer. A second later, using strength he never would have guessed he had, he was upright in the saddle, thundering past Griswold.

"I'll get him," Gabe hollered.