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Gray rinsed their coffee cups in the sink, went to the door, and switched off the kitchen light. Then he, Barrie, and Daily huddled there in the darkness for several minutes.

Barrie pinched Gray’s earlobe and pulled his head down so it was level with hers. “What was that crack about PMS?” she whispered directly into his ear.

“Sorry,” he mouthed.

Daily was doing his best to breathe silently. “Are you sure this is going to work?”

“No,” Gray whispered with sobering honesty. “You’re clear on how to use that?” Earlier, he’d given Daily a crash course on how to read the infrared detector.

“Sweep the area,” Daily said, his voice barely audible. “If there’s somebody lurking in the dark watching the house, this LED will let me know.”

“Good,” Gray said. “If you see something, whisper to me. I’ll hear you.” He put the wireless earphone into his ear. It worked with the portable two-way radio in the pocket of his jacket.

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“These’re neat toys.” Even in the darkness Barrie could see the sparkle in Daily’s eyes.

“Only problem is,” Gray said, “the pros have neater ones. Okay, let’s go.”

When Daily gave them the thumbs-up, they slipped out through the back door. There was no moon, so it would be difficult for the surveillance team to see them, unless night-vision binoculars and infrared detectors were being used. As Gray had said, the pros had neat toys too. He’d marked the surveillance vehicles—a van today, a service truck yesterday, an RV the day before—parked on Daily’s street one block away. Although a week had passed without any overt activity, Spence’s secret police force was living up to his standards, even in his absence.

Daily’s car and Barrie’s were parked in plain sight out front, so Gray hoped that the back of the house wasn’t being monitored. He also hoped that their scripted little scenario in the kitchen had worked to delude the surveillance team into believing that there was dissension within the ranks. Gray didn’t trust the noise generator to cover their conversations completely, so they had been careful to let their eavesdroppers hear only what they wanted them to hear.

Soundlessly, they left the tiny square of crumbling concrete that served as Daily’s rear porch and ran across his patch of backyard at a crouch. As he had on the night her house went up in smoke, Gray led her through several residential blocks via backyards and alleyways. Two dogs barked at them, but nothing else untoward happened, like G-men emerging from the shadows, automatic weapons aimed.

Gray had left a car parked behind a single-story office complex. When they reached it, he said into the radio’s tiny microphone, “How’s it looking, Daily?”

“Not even a mole fart. Good luck.”

“Over and out.”

Barrie was out of breath, as much from tension as exertion. They got into the car, but she waited until they were under way before she asked, “Do you think they’re on to us?”

“We’ll know in a few minutes.”

He drove away from Daily’s neighborhood, speeding up occasionally, then slowing to a crawl, weaving an intricate pattern through the residential streets. Finally he said, “Unless a helicopter shows up soon, I’d say we’re clear.” He removed the earpiece and set the two-way radio system on the seat between them.

“You and Daily were certainly convincing,” she said wryly. “To anyone who might’ve been listening, I came across as an ambitious, seditious, slutty nitwit with PMS.”

“That about sums it up.”

She shot him a dirty look. “Where’d you get the car?”

“Parking lot of a shopping mall.”

“You stole it?”

“No, I identified myself to the owner as someone trying to overthrow the President and asked if he would mind lending me his car.”

“Not funny. The car will be reported stolen by now. We could be stopped.”

“I switched license plates with a Chevy Blazer. There are thousands of these Tauruses in the metropolitan area. Besides, I’ll ditch it tomorrow and get something else.”

“You certainly treat crime with a cavalier attitude.”

“Compared to the crimes we might have to commit before this is finished, grand theft auto is minor. Now, what’s his address?”

* * *



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