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protection, and
you have a professional hit man after you, he will kill you.”
    Powell leaned forward with a
determined look. “Maybe, but if you’re watching me and he makes a move, you can
get him.”
    “We don’t use people as bait.”
    “And I’m not going to any safe
house, so the question is, are you going to follow me?”
    He’s a
dead man , Harriman thought. “All right Mr
Powell, we’ll follow you, and we’ll put a protection squad in your house, but
we’ll only get this guy after he’s made an
attempt on your life.”
    “I’ll take that risk.”
     
    * * * *
     
    Craig answered the phone in his office
shortly before eleven.
    “Mr Balard?” the heavily accented voice
asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Have you found anything?”
    “I have something you might want.”
    “Really?” The man said, suspecting
a lie.
    “I have a MLI document. A very important
document.” There was a long silence at the other end. “Hello? Are you still
there?”
    “Do you know Romano’s?”
    “On Fifth?”
    “Meet me there at midday.”
    “How will I know you?”
    “I’ll reserve a table in your
name,” the man replied, then hung up.
     
    * * * *
     
    In sub level four of the underground carpark
below Craig’s building, a dark van with no side windows was parked alongside a
locked metal door which secured the tower’s telecommunications control system. Three
men wearing headphones sat inside the van, listening to all calls in and out of
the law firm’s offices. They used eavesdropping equipment only available for electronic
intelligence gathering purposes, equipment that had been smuggled into the
United States in pieces and assembled in secret. Each member of the three man
team had carefully constructed identities that would easily fool local police
and challenge even the CIA.
    Computers analyzed every call,
searching for key words and specific voice prints. A search term alert suddenly
flashed, indicating the computer had detected the trigger word, MLI . The team leader switched to the indicated channel,
unaware what MLI meant or why it was important.
    The electronic surveillance unit’s
orders came directly from the East Coast operations commander himself, with
specific instructions on how to report any actionable intelligence. They were
unusual orders, but not without precedent for particularly sensitive work. Only
the regional commander, a former high ranking army officer, knew the
intelligence gathering operation was not an officially sanctioned mission, but
one requested by very senior officers in Moscow to whom he was personally
loyal.
    The team leader listened
carefully to the brief conversation. When it finished, he used a scrambler to call
a number given to him by the East Coast commander.
    Nogorev answered. “Yes?”
    “Zelenyy pyat,” ‘Green Five’, the
team leader said, all that was needed to identify himself. “Intercept at 10.43
AM,” he announced, then replayed Craig’s brief telephone call.
    The team leader hung up, leaving Nogorev
troubled that another MLI document was still unrecovered. He didn’t know what
document it was, or even if it was important, but he’d have to advise his
superiors that part of the operation was incomplete. More significantly, he
recognized the accent of the man calling Craig Balard. If not for years of
training, he would have spoken with a similar accent. It could mean only one
thing.
    Someone was mounting a counter operation!
     
    * * * *
     
    Dr Chaing slid into the chair between
Woods’ and Harriman’s desks. He held up a small plastic envelope containing a
tiny melted square of metal. Harriman took the envelope between thumb and
forefinger for a closer look.
    “We pulled that out of McCormack’s
car,” Dr Chaing explained. “It’s a computer chip from one of the bombs.
According to my calculations, the detonation rate was in excess of seven
thousand meters per second.”
    Harriman gave him a blank look. “Which
means . . . ?”
    “It was a military