The Big Bad Wolf

THE PHONE CALLS weren't over for the night. As soon as I got off with Jamilla, and we're talking sixty seconds here, the infernal contraption started to ring. I wondered if it was Christine. I really didn't want to talk about Alex right now. What would she want to say to me - and what could I say to her? The phone wouldn't stop ringing, though. I looked at my watch. Saw it was past midnight. Now what? I hesitated before I finally snatched it up. "Alex Cross," I said. "Alex. This is Ron Burns. Sorry to call you so late. I'm just flying into D.C. from New York. Another conference on counterterrorism, whatever the hell that's supposed to mean right now. Nobody seems to know exactly how to fight the bastards, but everybody has a theory." "Play by their rules. Of course, that would inconvenience a few people," I said. "And it's sure not politically or socially correct." Burns laughed. "You go to the heart of the matter," he said. "And you aren't timid about your ideas." I said, "Speaking of which..." "I know you're a little pissed," he said. "I don't blame you after what's been happening. The Bureau runaround, everything you were warned about. You have to understand something, Alex. I'm trying to turn around a very slow-moving ocean liner. In the Potomac. Trust me for a little longer. By the way, why are you still in D.C.? Not up in New Hampshire?" I blinked, didn't understand. "What's in New Hampshire? Oh, shit, don't tell me." "We have a suspect. Nobody told you, did they? Your idea about tracking the mentions of the Wolf's Den on the Internet worked. We got somebody!" I couldn't believe what I was hearing now, at midnight. "Nobody told me. I've been home since I left work." There was a silence on his end. "I'm going to make a couple of calls. Get on a plane in the morning. They'll be expecting you in New Hampshire. Believe me, they will be expecting you. And Alex, trust me a little longer." "Yeah, I will." A little longer.