Yuri sat behind the large terminal, typing furiously. Oscar paced behind him, and Russ stood near the door, watching Goldman, until he couldn't take it anymore. Quietly, Russ moved over to Oscar, leaning in toward him.

"Oscar, calm down. This can't be doing you any good."

Goldman looked at the younger man, but said nothing, and continued his labored trail back and forth across the small room. Russ sighed, and stepped into the man's path.

"Why don't I at least call Rudy, then he can--"

"No."

The sharpness of Goldman's tone left little doubt that if Russ disobeyed, there would be hell to pay. The younger man stared into the dark eyes for a long minute, contemplating his next move. Oscar glared hard at him for a moment, but the concern in his assistant's eyes softened him.

"Try not to worry so much, Russ."

"But I am worried. I'm worried about what you're doing in here with Yuri Cherkezov; I'm worried that whatever you're doing, you shouldn't be; and I'm very worried that you're going to drop dead right in front of me, Oscar. You're as white as a sheet."

Goldman leaned in closer to Russ. "You're going to have to trust me, Russ. Either that, or you can report me. But don't stand here and waste my time with misplaced sentimentality."

On target, the words struck the younger man like a blow. Russ fought to keep his composure, and to keep the moisture he felt stinging his eyes at bay. He swallowed hard trying to calm himself, and then the truth dawned on him.

"You pushed Rudy away, and now you're going to do it to me." Russ stared hard at his boss. "You're afraid something bad's going to go down, and you don't want anyone going down with you." Goldman looked away, and Russ pounced on him. "That's it, isn't it?"

Oscar put a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder. "Russ, the problem between Rudy and me has nothing to do with you, the OSI, or any imagined clandestine operation that you think I'm up to; it's personal, and that's that. And I'm sorry if I was harsh with you; I don't question your loyalty at all. I'm just a little tired." He smiled wanly at the young man. "Do me a favor and get me some coffee, will you?"

Russ looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Oscar watched the young man close the door behind him, and he turned to Cherkezov. "Yuri, have you found anything?"

"I'm afraid not, Oscar. If there is a double agent planted in the Pentagon, I'll be damned if I can find him."

Oscar sat dejectedly in a chair, clasping his hands together. "Well, that leaves us with few options."

"Few? I don't see any."

"Let's smoke him out."

"What?"

"Go back into the mainframe, only this time leave a trail."

"You want them to know that a terminal from the OSI was accessing them?"

Goldman nodded. "Only I want you to touch on very specific things. Nothing that an ordinary operator would find."

"Ah...only something the guilty party would be looking for."

Goldman nodded. "Exactly."

Yuri frowned slightly. "You know Oscar, the young man is right. You don't look very good."

"Never mind that. Just get back in there and fix it up. And Yuri, make sure that all trails lead to me."

Yuri shrugged. "It's your party, Oscar. Just be sure to leave me off the guest list if it ever comes down."

"You have my word."

Jaime paced the length of her steel cell yet again. She had spent the better part of two days trying to isolate the sounds her bionic ear kept picking up, but she couldn't place them. If she didn't know better, it reminded her of the Air Force base back in Ojai; but that simply didn't make sense. She wondered if Oscar was trying to--but then she remembered. Jaime ran a hand through her hair as the awful sensation of loss tried to creep back into her psyche. There would be time to deal with his death; but that time was not now. If she was to have any chance at escape, she knew it was up to her, and the last thing she could do was allow herself to feel any of the emotions that wanted to have their way with her; he would have expected nothing less.

The lock in the door clicked and momentarily the door to her cell opened. A man she had never seen before stood there with his hands on his hips, staring at her. Jaime glared back at him. If he wanted a conversation, he was going to have to initiate it. He didn't look like any of the other men she'd seen. He was much older with a full head of white hair, and very tall. He stood unusually straight, had a deep tan, and shockingly blue eyes. There was something stiff about his demeanor, but Jaime couldn't put her finger on it. Finally he took a few steps into the cell, closing the door behind him.

"They tell me you're quite amazing."

His voice held the air of command, and his English was native, South Dakota or so Jaime thought. She remained silent.

"Cat got your tongue, Miss Sommers?" He waited, but still she said nothing. He moved a little closer, remembering the warning he received about keeping his distance from her. "I would think after two days with no one to talk to, and only stale bread and water to sustain you, you'd be a little more pliable."

"You thought wrong."

"So I see."

They stared at each other for a long moment. Then Jaime broke the silence.

"Why are you here?"

"To inspect the goods personally, of course. Did you think it was out of mere curiosity?"

"Since I don't know who you are, nor what you have to do with this, I couldn't know, could I?"

"But you've surmised I'm not with our friends upstairs."

"Well that one wasn't too difficult, now was it? South Dakota doesn't sound anything like the other side of the world."

He smiled at her. "You're everything I've heard about you, and more."

"How nice for you."

He inched a little closer toward her, fascinated by her. "You're not the least bit frightened are you?"

She smiled at him. "I'd be stupid if I didn't feel fear, Mr...?"

He laughed. "You may call me Howard, Miss Sommers, I think we're way past formalities. You were saying?"

"I might feel fear, Howard, but I am not ruled by it."

"No wonder all my friends upstairs dislike you so strongly. You represent everything they abhor in a woman."

She moved a little closer. If an opportunity presented itself, she would take it.

"But you don't dislike it, do you, Howard?"

"On the contrary, Miss Sommers, I find you quite...charming."

She smiled and inched closer still. "Call me Jaime..."

"All right, Jaime."

And Sommers figured she was close enough. She made a move toward him, springing with bionic power at his midsection, knocking him to the ground. As she stood to grab him, he pulled a gun from under his jacket, but Jaime was already in motion. He fired, hitting her in the shoulder. Jaime grabbed her right side, as the force of the .45 ACP slammed her backward and down to the floor. Howard stood and walked toward her, the gun leveled at her head. She recognized the insignia on the pistol; it was something she had seen many times at Edwards AFB. She looked up at him again, but knew she had never seen him before.

"You're more dangerous than I thought, but at least I didn't hit any of the important parts in my own defense. It would have damaged the sale."

"Don't count your money yet..."

He laughed. "Well, I'll lose a little bit for the bullet hole, but dead or alive, Jaime, there will still be a buyer, don't you doubt that."

Holding the gun on her, Howard backed up toward the door. He pounded on it, and a moment later, it opened. He ducked behind it, and it slammed home, the lock clicking once more. Jaime lie still for a long while, holding her shoulder, the blood continuing to flow. Sommers couldn't help but think that if she were lucky, she'd just bleed to death...

Russ walked in to Goldman's office to find his boss stretched out on the couch, asleep. Not wanting to wake him, the young man turned around and headed back toward the door. The deep voice called to him, although it was slightly groggy.

"Russ...what is it?"

The younger man walked back to the couch, a piece of paper in his hands. "Well, good news, bad news."

"I'm too tired for riddles, Russ, just tell me."

"The good news is that I know how the NSB found them. The bad news is that a few years ago, Hansen got the Secretary to authorize a homing implant in Jaime's arm."

Oscar sat straight up, anger coloring his face. "What?"

"Yeah, I've got a copy of the authorization right here."

Goldman snatched the paper from the young man's hands and read through it. He stood up, tossing the paper back to Russ, and headed toward his desk. Angrily he picked up the phone, preparing to dial a number. Russ moved to him and pulled the phone from his hands, returning it to the receiver.

"Oscar, calm down. The last thing we need right now is for you to do something rash."

"The Secretary knows damned good and well how I feel about things like this, and he knows I'd never go along with it. I cannot sanction treating a loyal, dedicated woman like Jaime as if she were nothing more than government property. I wonder how in the hell Hansen got him to do it."

"The real question is why Rudy went along with it..."

Goldman looked at him sharply. "Rudy?"

"Well yeah Oscar, do you know anyone else who would be digging around in Jaime's bionic arm?"

Goldman felt as if he had been struck hard in the gut. Worn out, Oscar slowly sank into his desk chair. He was already angry with Rudy regarding the attitude the man had taken toward trying to rescue Jaime; but he had never imagined that his friend of so many years would do anything this deceitful. After a long moment, he looked up at the young man standing near.

"Russ, I want you to do something for me."

"Anything, Oscar."

"I want you to give me about fifteen minutes, and then I want you to terminate Dr. Wells' employment with the OSI." The young man stared blankly at his boss. "Did you hear me?"

"Yeah, I just...are you sure this is what you want to do?"

Oscar stood. "Yes Russ, I'm sure. If he's been dishonest about this, God only knows about how many other things." Goldman shook his head sadly. "What I don't understand is how I could have misjudged him so completely for so long." He looked at Russ, the vulnerability plain in the depths of his eyes. "I would have trusted him with my life, and I did trust him with the lives of two people who mean more to me than--" His emotion choked off any further comment, and Oscar walked to the door. He opened it and turned back to his assistant once more. "This one's going to hurt, Russ. It's going to hurt us all for a long time to come."