spirit."
"Is being sentimental worth your life?"
"Is chasing me worth yours?"
"I always liked your attitude, but given the way you sound, I doubt this'll be much of a contest."
Abruptly, Andrei came to a spot where the footprints joined a number of others in a lane that went to the right and left.
"Someone's coming," Yakov warned.
On the right, two couples emerged from the snowfall, prompting Andrei and his companions to tuck their weapons into their coats.
"No, you're wrong. Chevy Chase made the funniest Christmas movie," one of the approaching men insisted to his companions. "NationalLampoon's Christmas Vacation."
"Is that the one where Chevy brings home a Christmas tree with a squirrel in it?"
"Yeah, and his dog drinks the water in the tree's dish. The tree gets so dry it bursts into flames."
"And burns the squirrel?" a woman objected. "You think that's funny?"
"No, it jumps on Chevy's back," the second man replied. "It's really just this cheesy stuffed squirrel that a prop guy sewed to his sweater, but his family screams and runs away when they see it on him. Then Chevy screams and runs, not realizing that the squirrel's on his back. And ..."
Voices dwindling, the couples continued down the lane. Soon, their figures were obscured again by the falling snow.
Andrei and his companions removed their pistols from their coats.
"Pyotyr?" Andrei said into his microphone.
All he heard was forced breathing.
"We can solve this problem," Andrei assured him. "You just need to be reasonable."
Pyotyr refused to answer.
"Very well. I'll see you soon, my friend," Andrei said.
He switched the transmitter back to the frequency the team was now using. Then he put the unit under his ski jacket and rehooked it to his belt.
Mikhail pointed toward the ground.
"We need to hurry. All these tracks will soon be filled with snow."
Andrei glanced to the left, where this new lane led back toward Canyon Road.
"He might have rejoined the crowd," Yakov said.
"Possibly," Andrei agreed. "But he seems to be losing more blood. He might be afraid that someone will notice and cause a commotion that will tell us where he went. Would he risk attracting our attention instead of going to ground somewhere?"
Debating the possibilities, Andrei peered to the right, away from Canyon Road. There were fewer footprints headed in that direction.
"Go left. Check the crowd," he told Mikhail and Yakov. "I'll go this way."
* * *
KAGAN STEPPED through the open gate and studied the area in front of the house. As the snowflakes thickened, he saw the outline of a bench and an evergreen shrub on the right. Two leafless trees stood to his left. Their white trunks were difficult to distinguish in the snowfall. He stared at the main window but still didn't see any movement except for the flicker from logs in the fireplace.
At once, his vision wavered, almost in imitation of the dimly glimpsed flames.
It's just the snow blurring my eyes, he thought.
His legs felt frozen, as did his chest where the zipper on his parka was halfway down, providing air for the baby.
Hurry, he thought. He turned to close the gate and secure the metal bolt, ignoring a twinge of pain in his wound. When he redirected his attention toward the house, his vision again wavered.
Under his parka, the baby moved. Aware that he needed to find shelter soon, he took one step, then another. The flakes came faster, renewing the hope that his tracks would soon be filled.
I have a good chance of getting this trick to work, he thought. Still, he couldn't help imagining the emotions of the man to whom he'd spoken just now, the man he'd fooled into believing they were friends, the man who--even if he failed tonight--would never stop hunting him.
Kagan moved nearer to the house, but something he saw in the snow to the left of the front door made him worry that his vision had definitely been compromised.
He was sure he saw a plant. It had a dense cluster of dark leaves. The contrast against the