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longer be needing it. He flipped the card into his desk drawer and shut it.
    He studied the briefcase, his thoughts hovering far away from the little room. He didn't enjoy lying to his wife. He had never done that before and the feeling of prevarication was particularly repugnant to him. But it was almost over. He shuddered when he thought of all the risks he had taken. His body shook again when he dwelled on the fact that his wife knew absolutely nothing about it. He silently went over the plan again. The route he would take, the evasive steps he would employ, the code names of the people who would be meeting him. In spite of it all his mind continued to wander. He looked out the window, seeming to stare across the horizon as, behind the glasses he wore, his eyes seemed to grow larger and larger as the possibilities were swiftly sorted through. After today he could actually say for the first time that the risk had been worth it. All he had to do was survive today.
    CHAPTER FOUR
    The darkness that enveloped Dulles International Airport would soon be dispelled by the fast-approaching dawn. As the new day began stretching itself awake, a cab pulled up in front of the airport's terminal. The rear door of the cab opened and Jason Archer stepped out. He carried the leather briefcase in one hand and the black metal case, housing his laptop computer, in the other. He put a dark green wide-brimmed hat with a leather band on his head.
    Jason smiled as the memory of making love to his wife commanded his thoughts. They had both showered, but the scent of recent sex lingered, and, had there been time, Jason Archer would have made love to his wife a second time.
    He put down the computer case for a moment, stretched his arm back inside the cab and pulled out the oversized canvas bag, which he slung over his shoulder.
    At the Western Airlines ticket counter Jason exhibited his driver's license, got his seat assignment and boarding pass and checked the canvas bag. He took a moment to smooth down the collar on his camel-hair overcoat, push his hat farther down on his head and adjust his tie, which bore soft swirls of gold, hazel and lavender. His pants were dark gray and baggy. Not that anyone would have noticed, but the socks were white athletic ones and the dark shoes were, in fact, tennis shoes. A few minutes later, Jason purchased a USA Today and a cup of coffee along the terminal's vendors' row. He then passed through the security gates.
    The shuttle to the midfield terminal was three-quarters full.
    Jason stood among men and women dressed much as he was: dark suits, touches of color at the neck, rolling racks stacked with bags clenched in many a weary hand.
    Jason's hand never left the leather briefcase; his legs straddled the computer case. He occasionally looked around the interior of the shuttle examining its sleepy occupants. Then his eyes would eventually wander back to his newspaper as the shuttle swayed and bumped over to the midfield terminal.
    Sitting in the large, open waiting area in front of Gate 11, Jason checked the time. Boarding would begin soon. He glanced outside the broad window, where a row of Western Airlines jets sporting the familiar brown and yellow stripes were being readied for early morning flights. Slashes of pink streaked the sky as the sun slowly rose to illuminate the East Coast. Outside, the wind pushed fiercely against the thick glass; airline workers hunched forward against the invisible thrusts of nature. The full measure of winter would be settling in soon and the winds and icy precipitation would blanket the area until the following April.
    Jason pulled out the boarding pass from his inner coat pocket and studied its contents: Western Airlines Flight 3223 from Washington's Dulles International Airport to Los Angeles International Airport with direct, nonstop service. Jason had been born and raised in the Los Angeles area but hadn't been back there in over two years.
    Across the aisle of the massive