"William Do," said Carter. "Sounds like our suspect, all right."

She held up Do's passport beside the man's face. The picture matched.

Do knew he was as good as dead. The Afghan Secret Service was better at acquiring information than even the KGB. Operation Nerushimy had failed spectacularly, and he can only depend on his boss to save what was left of his dignity. He winced at the wound on his left thigh, healed by Dr. Alfred Mueller, Bundeswehr surgeon. What walking he had to do would be painful.

The German air marshal finished tying his hands with plastic handcuffs, and then brought his working arm into Do's gut. "That's for shooting my shoulder, asshole," he told the suicide bomber.

Do clutched his stomach. I guess I deserved that, he thought.

"How long before we reach Kabul?" Carter asked the marshal.

"About a half-hour, maybe less," replied the German.

The Boeing jet flew on to its destination undisturbed, most of the passengers unaware how close to death they had come. They disembarked, noting with a little curiosity the dark blue truck sitting on the tarmac.

Kulyuchev greeted the handcuffed Do. "You're in for a lot of trouble, boy," he told him. After that, he shook hands with the German air marshal. "Colonel Pavel Kulyuchev," he introduced himself.

"Lieutenant Thilo von Keeling, Bundesluftmarschall."

"Good job taking him down."

"Actually, he shot me before I can do a thing, Mr. Kulyuchev. Those two are the ones responsible." Keeling then pointed at Carter and Rosie.

"Of course," muttered Kulyuchev. "Get him into the truck," he told the Afghan policemen that had surrounded the prisoner. While they brought him into their vehicle, the Russian colonel went for the two.

"I guess we can say it's over now," he said. "Let the Aviation Security Command take care of him."

Suddenly, a loud explosion rocked the airport. The dark blue AVSECOM truck burst into a huge fireball before settling back on to the ground. Firefighters, police officers, and soldiers began running towards the flaming wreckage but were unable to do anything for those inside.

Rosie's cellphone rang. She picked it up and answered, "Hello?"

"I hope I've made my point."

She looked up, grabbing Carter and Kulyuchev's attention. "Who is this?" she asked.

"You need not know my name," replied the unknown caller. "What you do need to know is that you may have stopped my man today, but by the end of the year, people would die, and there is nothing you can do about it. This is the last time that I should hear of you. Remember that!" The call ended at that.

"What did he say?" Carter and Kulyuchev asked at the same time. Both also glared at the other.

"It's not over," Rosie replied.

"There won't be much to find out now," said Kulyuchev. "As you've just seen, our best source just burnt himself to death."

"I don't think so, Colonel," said Carter. "Thilo, bring Mr. Do out."

Keeling waved his hand, and the real William Do stepped out, still cuffed but otherwise none the worse for wear. Kulyuchev stared at Carter, dumbfounded.

"Colonel, I would suggest that you and Thilo bring him in yourself. It would be the safest way for all of you."

The colonel nodded and led the bomber into his embassy car, along with Keeling. As the Ford zoomed out of the airport, Rosie said, "Good call on that one."

"Well, him talking in his sleep about redemption and bombs did help a little." She shrugged off the comment. "What's next for us?"

Little did they know that that question would soon lead them through more places than ever before the path turned back into Afghanistan. But for now, they were content to take one step at a time.