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pinpoint the woman’s location. The dive under the table had jarred his helmet’s internal heads-up display. Its holographic images flickered incoherently across the inside of his faceshield, interfering with his sightlines, but he dared not abandon the helmet. It offered the best protection against the weapon still in the woman’s hand.
    That and his body suit.
    The assassin was right. Liquid body armor. Developed by U.S. Army Research Laboratory in 2003. The fabric of his body suit had been soaked with a shear-thickening fluid—hard microparticles of silica suspended in a polyethylene glycol solution. During normal movement, it acted like a liquid, but once a bullet struck, the material solidified into a rigid shield, preventing penetration. The suit had just saved his life.
    At least for now.
    The woman spoke again, coldly calm, as she slowly circled toward the door. “I rigged the building with C4 and TNT. Easy enough since the structure’s already scheduled for demolition. The Army was nice enough to have it all prewired. It just took a minor detonator modification to change the building’s implosion to one that will cause an explosive updraft .”
    Gray pictured the resulting plume of smoke and debris riding high into the early morning sky. “The vials of anthrax…” he mumbled, but it was loud enough to be heard.
    “It seemed fitting to use the base’s own demolition as a toxic delivery system.”
    Christ, she had turned the entire building into a biological bomb.
    With the strong winds, it was not only the base at risk, but the entire town of nearby Frederick.
    Gray moved. She had to be stopped. But where was she?
    He edged toward the door himself now, wary of her gun, but he couldn’t let that stop him. Too much was at stake. He tried flicking on his night-vision mode, but all he earned was another snap of flame by his ear. The heads-up display continued its erratic flashing, dazzling and confusing to the eye.
    Screw it.
    He thumbed the catch and yanked the helmet off.
    The fresh wash of air smelled moldy and antiseptic at the same time. Staying low, he carried the helmet in one hand, the dagger in the other. He reached the back wall and hurried toward the door. He could see well enough to tell the swinging door hadn’t moved. The assassin was still in the room.
    But where?
    And what could he do to stop her? He squeezed the handle of his knife. Gun against dagger. Not good odds.
    With his helmet off, he spotted a shift of shadows near the door. He stopped, going dead still. She was crouched three feet from the door, shielded by a table.
    Watery light filtered from the hallway, glowing through the windows of the swinging doors. Dawn neared, brightening the passage beyond. The assassin would have to expose herself to make her escape. For the moment, she clung to the shadows of the windowless lab, unsure if her opponent was armed or not.
    Gray had to stop playing this Dragon Lady’s game.
    With a roundhouse swing, he threw his helmet toward the opposite side of the lab. It landed with a crash and tinkle of glass, shattering one of the old tanks.
    He ran toward her position. He only had seconds.
    She popped from her hiding place, swiveling to lay down fire in the direction of the noise. At the same time, she leaped gracefully toward the door, seeming to use the recoil from her gun to propel her.
    Gray could not help but be impressed—but not enough to slow him.
    With his arm already cocked, he whipped his dagger through the air. Weighted and balanced to perfection, the carbonized blade flew with unerring accuracy.
    It struck the woman square in the hollow of her throat.
    Gray continued his headlong rush.
    Only then did he realize his mistake.
    The dagger bounced harmlessly away and clattered to the floor.
    Liquid body armor.
    No wonder the Dragon Lady knew about his body suit. She was wearing the same.
    The attack, though, threw off her leap. She landed in a half crash, plainly turning a knee. But ever the