“He wasn’t,” Perez confirmed. “He claimed he wasn’t thinking clearly. But I’m sure he was lying. He told me how it works.” He explained what Middleton had said about adjusting the pitch of A and using a simple electronic tuning device to decode the formula.

Faust was nodding. “Hadn’t considered that. Of course.”

Middleton said, “So Jack coming to our rescue in the Harbor Court was all part of the plan.”

“Pretty much.”

“What the hell is going on?”

“I’m just a businessman, Colonel. The world of terrorism is different now. Too many watch lists, too much surveillance, too many computers. You have to outsource. I’ve been hired by people who are patriots, idealists, protecting their culture.”

“Is that how you describe ethnic cleansing?”

Faust frowned. “Protecting them from impurity is how they describe it. You meddled in their country. You’ll pay for that. A hundred thousand people will pay.”

“And you, Jack?” Middleton snapped.

The young man gave a grim laugh. “I have my own ideals. But they’ve got commas and a decimal point. I’m making ten million to keep an eye on you and help them out. Yeah, I went to law school and gave up the family business . . . And it was the worst mistake of my life. Going legit? Bullshit.” He gazed at his father-in-law contemptuously. “Look at you, Mr. Harry Middleton . . . The star of military intel, the musical genius . . . Faust led you all over the world like he had you on a leash.”

“Jack, we don’t have time,” Faust said. “I’ll try the adjustment to the formula. If it works and we don’t need him anymore, you can take care of him.”

Middleton said, “Jack, you’re willing to kill so many people?”

“I’ll donate some of the ten million to a relief fund . . . ” A grin. “Or not.”

Then he stopped talking. Cocked his head.

Faust was looking up too.

“Helicopter,” the younger man muttered.

But Faust spat out, “No, it’s two. Wait, three.”

Faust ran to the window. “It’s a trap. Police. Soldiers.” He glared at Jack. “You led them here!”

“No, I did what we agreed.”

Middleton could hear diesels of Jeeps and personnel carriers in the distance, closing in fast. Spotlights shone from on high.

Faust slapped his hand on a button on the wall. The warehouse was plunged into darkness. Middleton lunged for Faust but saw the man’s vague form run to a corner of the warehouse, open a trap door and vanish. A few seconds later, a powerboat engine started up.

Hell! Middleton thought. He swept the light switch on. He ran to the trap door. Tried it, but Faust had locked it from below.

Sweating, frantic, Perez pointed his gun at Middleton. “Harry, don’t move. You’re my ticket out of here.”

Middleton ignored him and started for the front door of the warehouse.