Germ

"Like a household refrigerator," she continued, walking to the front of the room. "The motor kicks on only when the temperature inside rises above a preset point. That's why the interference is sporadic. And look . . ." She tapped a spot on the diagram. "We're monitoring from this room on the other side of the wall from the Coke machine. Some motors spit out more sparks than others, even when they're working fine. The brand that goes in this machine may be that kind. I'd bet even replacing the motor won't entirely fix the problem, considering its proximity to the receiver."

She stopped, realizing she may have overstepped her bounds. She had said we, though she was not part of this investigation. Worse, she had flaunted her textbook understanding of electronics in front of Preston, who would find this humiliation hard to live down.

She lowered her head and said quietly, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be ridiculous," Donnelley said. He grasped her shoulder and gave it a brief shake. "There's nothing to be sorry about. It's about time we reaped the benefit of your presence." He winked.

Julia was sure only she saw it.

"Preston! What do you think of Agent Matheson's analysis?"

"Might work. We'll unplug the thing and see."

He turned back to her, satisfied. "Thank you, Julia. Feel free to interrupt anytime."

She smiled and nodded. She left the room and walked back to her cubicle. Her mouth was dry. Despite the positive outcome, she feared that the way she had imposed herself on the tight group of men would label her overeager and unprofessional.

A half hour later, Goody leaned into her cubicle. "Good job, kid," he said. "I mean it."

"Thank you, sir. I'm sorry I stepped on Agent Preston's toes like that."

"Preston needs more than his toes stepped on. Don't worry about it. He knows you're right. We all do."

"Sir? I wouldn't unplug the Coke machine."

"Oh?"

"Might tip 'em off. If it doesn't dispense pop, or the display lights are out, Gee and Simon might talk about everything but what you want them to."

"What do you suggest?"

She squared herself in her chair. "Well, clip only the compressor's wire. Do it early, or if you can't be sure when Simon will show, run the wire through the wall and disengage it only when he shows up, so the drinks will still be cold."

Goody paused. "Good idea—again." As he walked away, he called back to her, "Keep it up, and I'll think you're after my job."

I am, she thought.

Turned out she was right; the Bureau captured Gee's evil scheme on tape, helping to send him to prison for life, and Simon for five years. The incident started the department grapevine buzzing, and among other congratulations, Goody insisted on putting a letter of commendation into her personnel jacket. Julia soon found herself working alongside him, designing complicated surveillance strategies and brainstorming with other crack agents about the best way to nail felons.

It was the beginning of a deep friendship. Though only fourteen years her senior, Goody treated her like a daughter, advising her on career decisions and trying to set her up with the few men he felt were worthy of her attention. By the time she spent that first Christmas with him and his wife and two boys, the feeling of family had permeated their relationship. And when he was transferred to CDC-LED, he pulled enough strings to bring her along.

seven

Now Goody was out there on his own, a carload of killers probably bearing down on him at that very moment.

The farther Julia moved away from the last place the SATD had detected him, the more panicked she became. That spot was at least twenty miles behind her now. The two center lanes of the urban, six-lane highway had given way to a wide grassy median, and the speed limit had jumped to seventy.

Atlanta was gone, and so was her partner.

She continued her breathing exercises, but the tension wouldn't leave her. Use it, she thought. Turn the stress into sharper focus. What happened? What went wrong?

She chided herself for losing him. She never should have left the hotel, despite Goody's instructions. He hadn't been thinking clearly, all those guns, trying to protect Vero. And when she left the area, she should have remained closer; two blocks was too far.

Was she to blame for the SATD's malfunction? Once it was running, the program required nothing from the user but watchful eyes. Trouble with the host satellite was a slim possibility; geosynchronous satellites were famously reliable, which accounted for their proliferation.

In one of the SATD's more innovative constructs, the locator signal was routed through a commercial satellite. Commercial communication satellites tended to be more robust, making them less susceptible to adverse weather. More important, hiding the SATD's signal in a random, nongovernment satellite kept savvy criminals from blocking or scrambling it. Not even the operators of the host satellite were supposed to know the SATD was hitching a ride.