Part 1 (2/2)

No matter. They wouldn't hit him at this distance!

He was wrong. The bullet punched through his back, low, at the right kidney, went right on through him-he looked down and saw the exit wound, a welling red crater the size of his thumb. It felt as if he had been hit by a hammer, but he didn't fall, didn't put the bike down. Maybe it wasn't a fatal wound. It didn't hurt that bad.

If he could just get across the border, he'd be okay. They'd find him a doctor. If he could just get back to Turkey, he'd be all right.

1.

Net Force HQ Quantico, Virginia

Alex Michaels put the gold ink pen given to him by the late Steve Day into the box, next to a laser pointer and a couple of mechanical pencils. Amazing how much c.r.a.p you picked up when you sat behind a desk in the same spot for a few years: rubber bands, paper clips, batteries, flashmem cards . . . It was not as if he hadn't cleared out a desk before, but this time was different. He was leaving government service for the private sector, moving far away in time and s.p.a.ce, into a new life with his wife and son.

It felt strange. Unreal, somehow.

Would he miss running Net Force? Sure, no question. There was a great satisfaction in being part of the solution to America's problems. Under his direction, the organization had nailed some very bad people, and, however briefly, made the world a safer place. Given the times, that was not a bad thing. But it was time to move on. There were some things more important than a job-any job-and his family was one of those things.

His work had put them at risk, and that simply wasn't acceptable. He didn't mind dying for his country, if it came to that, but he was not going to let his wife and child die-not for any reason. If a man didn't take care of his family, he wasn't much of a man, no matter how well the rest of the world might think of him.

He opened the drawer on the right side, saw the kerambit kerambit case nestled there. That pair of short, hooked knives had saved his life and that of his family, when Toni had been pregnant. Coupled with his knowledge of the esoteric Indonesian fighting art called case nestled there. That pair of short, hooked knives had saved his life and that of his family, when Toni had been pregnant. Coupled with his knowledge of the esoteric Indonesian fighting art called pentjak silat pentjak silat, he had been able to stop a madman bent on rape and murder. But such occasions should not arise, should not have have to be dealt with, and removing his family from harm's way was much smarter than contending with such adversaries. to be dealt with, and removing his family from harm's way was much smarter than contending with such adversaries.

He had done his part. Now let somebody else stand in the line of fire. He would not miss that aspect of it.

”Commander?” came his secretary's voice over the intercom.

”Yes?”

”Thomas Thorn is here.”

”Ah. Send him in.”

Michaels looked around. Being here had been good. Leaving was good, too. . . .

The secretary showed Thorn into the office. Michaels, on his feet and apparently packing personal belongings into boxes, came from around his desk and extended his hand. When they shook, Michaels used his left as well, clasping Thorn's hand in a firm grip, but not a crusher.

”Commander Michaels,” Thorn said. ”I'm Tom Thorn. A pleasure to finally meet you, sir.”

Michaels smiled, showing a lot of laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. ”Just 'Alex',” he said. ”You're the Commander now. I've heard a lot about you. Have a seat.”

Thorn started for the couch. ”No,” Michaels said. ”Behind the desk. It's yours.”

Thorn paused.

”I'm serious,” Michaels said. ”When I walk out the door, I might look back, but I'm essentially gone. I've got all my stuff almost cleaned out.” He waved at a box on the desk. ”It's your house now.”

Thorn nodded. ”Okay.” He moved around the desk. Michaels sat on the couch.

”I'm not sure I'm ready for this,” Thorn admitted.

Michaels laughed again. ”You came up with the basic VR interface most people still use. Half of our high-end software packages here are systems you wrote, or based on those you did. You'll feel right at home.”

Thorn smiled. Well, yes, that was true. And it was also true he wasn't that that worried-he had run his own company until he sold it, and had been on the boards of several major corporations since. How different was managing a government computer agency from running a private one? People were the same. worried-he had run his own company until he sold it, and had been on the boards of several major corporations since. How different was managing a government computer agency from running a private one? People were the same.

”Any questions I can answer, just ask. For computer stuff, you have Jay Gridley; he is the best there is. General John Howard will still be on board at military operations for another week or so, and his replacement, Colonel Abe Kent, is, by all accounts, a first-cla.s.s military man. I don't have an a.s.sistant at the moment, but there's a pretty good pool of qualified folks who know the systems, either here or over at the regular FBI shop.”

Thorn thought about it. He did have one question, but asking it would no doubt make Commander Michaels uncomfortable at the very least. After a moment, he decided to ask it anyway. He needed to know.

”I understand that you are leaving for personal reasons, Commander,” he said, ”and that John Howard's departure is also by his choice for the same rationale. And your a.s.sistant-your wife-gives the same justification. Do you mind if I ask what those are? I don't want to step into a hornet's nest of politics here-if you're being dumped because you screwed up or peed in somebody's Frosted Flakes, I'd rather know it coming in. It seems awfully coincidental that the Commander of an agency and his top lieutenants all decide to bail at the same time.”

That got him a big grin.

”Good question,” Alex said. ”But there's no conspiracy to worry about. I was a little more hands-on as Commander than I should have been. Got into the field a few times when it would have been smarter to stay in the office. Mostly, computer criminals are chair-warmers, not known for their exploits in RW. A few of them are more . . . active. A couple of times, I found myself in situations that were physically dangerous. When I was single, that wasn't a problem. Once I got married and had a child at home, going into harm's way wasn't just about me.”

Thorn waited. He had heard that Michaels was a cowboy who liked to go into the field, and that he had some kind of martial arts training he had used a few times. Not a good idea for the head of the agency to be doing that. Not smart. Not something he was going to be guilty of, for certain. Leave the field work to those who got paid to do it.

Michaels paused. A cloud seemed to pa.s.s over his face as he obviously remembered something unpleasant. ”We had a couple of incidents involving deranged criminals, and the last one put my wife and son in some danger. Toni and I decided that was not going to happen again.”

”You could have stayed in the office from then on,” Thorn offered.

Michaels shook his head. ”Too late. The criminals involved didn't really know me, only that I was Net Force's Commander. They found out where I lived and went to my home because they had seen or heard who I was from my public appearances.”

”You surely rated bodyguards?”

”Yes. Had some, for a time.”

There was another pause. Thorn waited, not speaking.

”You aren't married, are you? No children?”

”No,” Thorn said. ”But I understand your point.”

”With all due respect, Commander, no, you don't. Having your two-year-old need an armed guard to go to the park? No job is worth that if you have a choice. I was a target just by being the man in charge, and that put my family at risk. Life is too short.”

Thorn nodded.

”I can't speak for General Howard,” Alex went on, ”but he also has a wife and son he wants to see grow up, and he's been into the field enough times to prove to himself and anybody else that he's a brave man. Not to mention he can get twice the money he makes now as a consultant in private industry. So can I, for that matter.”

Thorn smiled again. Was that a dig? Was he saying that it was easy for Thorn to take this job because he was already a wealthy man?

Michaels said, ”We did our job, did a little good now and then, and now it's our time to move on. Nothing sinister-although the politics of the job are are a b.i.t.c.h. Some of the hearings up on the Hill you'll have to attend, you'll need an iron bladder.” a b.i.t.c.h. Some of the hearings up on the Hill you'll have to attend, you'll need an iron bladder.”

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