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my best. So, what’s the buzz? Was it a good shoot?”
    Theel stared out through the windshield. Rivulets of moisture zigzagged down across the safety glass. “The board will make that determination and they haven’t finished their investigation yet.”
    “Don’t bullshit me, John. I’m not asking what the board thinks—I’m asking what the folks in the office think.”
    Theel looked her way. The agent’s face was so pale that her lipstick looked unnaturally bright. Judging from the deep circles under her eyes she hadn’t slept very well and was struggling to look normal. He knew the question had many levels. Rossi wanted to know if she was in trouble, but more than that, she wanted to know how the rest of the team felt about Enger and Nealy. “They were grown ups, Christina, experienced agents who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Not only that but you arrived on the scene ten minutes early. The fact that you did saved at least two lives. Everybody knows that…and everybody supports you.”
    “Even Val?” Rossi asked bitterly, referring to Enger’s wife, “and Holly?”
    “ Especially them,” Theel replied evenly. “They didn’t like the risks, but they knew about them and chose to marry the kind of men who were willing to take them. And, while it might not be politically correct, they’re grateful for what you did.
    “No, they blame the ASAC. They know you warned Haxton and that she refused to request more resources, so they figure the ambush was her fault. The only problem is that they’re wrong. Even if the ASAC had alerted the entire planet, odds are that Enger and Nealy would still be dead. They knew the kind of people they were after, or should have, and chose to sit on their weapons. It sounds harsh, hell, it is harsh, but they could have been more vigilant. Anyway, nomatter how you cut it, there’s nothing more you could have done.”
    There was silence as Rossi took it in. “Thanks, boss. That helps.”
    “No problem,” Theel said, glancing at his watch. “I hate to do this, but there’s a couple things we need to talk about before they run you through the red, white, and blue wringer.”
    Rossi nodded. “Shoot.”
    “You prepared a signed statement?”
    “Yeah, the chief inspector has it. You’ll find a copy in your email.”
    “Good. Everybody’s seen the tape about a million times and we have statements from at least a dozen witnesses, not to mention one very grateful campus cop, but it’s important to make sure that your account squares with theirs. Speaking of which, did you hire a lawyer?”
    Rossi frowned. “Why? Do I need one?”
    Theel sighed. “Don’t get defensive, Christina. It’s SOP. You know that.”
    “Sorry, I’m feeling a bit paranoid right now. Yeah, I talked to the counsel for the Agents Association, and she hooked me up with an attorney here in Seattle. Some guy named Paul Gregory. He reviewed my statement and said it was fine. He’s supposed to meet me at the office.”
    Theel started the car, looked back over his shoulder, and backed out of the spot. “Excellent. Gregory has a good rep. He was a cop once…and he bleeds blue.”
    “So, fill me in,” Rossi demanded. “What have we got on these people?”
    “You’re on administrative leave.”
    “Oh, yeah? Then why I am in this car? On my way to the office? On a Saturday?”
    Theel laughed. “Okay, but you didn’t hear it from me. You knew about McDonnel, hell, you predicted that the psycho bitch was up to something. And, having sifted through the stuff in her apartment, it looks like she became interested in Buddhism, did a whole lot of reading, and stumbled across some material on self-immolation.
    “It turns out that until recently all Sinitic monks and nuns were burned as part of their ordination ceremonies, and some of them, like the monks who lit themselves on fire to protest the Vietnam War, practiced ‘shao shen,’ a term that originally referred to cremation but was