The drive across the parking aprons took less than thirty seconds。 Abandoning the vehicle； Smith raced up to the bus。 Because the chassis was eight feet off the ground； he could make out only the heads of the passengers as they disembarked。
Swinging through another emergency door； Smith found himself in an identical holding area filled with passengers waiting to board。 Turning； he saw the backs of those who had just e off the bus。
He scanned the sea of faces around him。 Treloar couldn't have slipped out。 Not that fast。
Then he saw him； only a glimpse at first。 But it was unmistakably Treloar； beyond the sliding glass doors that opened to the sidewalk outside where cabs； limousines； and private vehicles waited。
Barging ahead； Smith jammed through the doors in time to see his quarry about to step into a black Lincoln sedan with heavily tinted windows。
〃Treloar！〃
Charging down on him； Smith saw terror in those odd eyes； noted the way Treloar was clutching his carry…on tightly against his chest。
Treloar jumped into the car and slammed the door。 Smith reached the vehicle just in time to get his fingers around the door handle。 Then； without warning； the big car screeched away from the curb； throwing him heavily to the sidewalk。 Smith tucked his shoulder； letting it absorb the impact； and rolled with the momentum。 By the time he was back on his feet； the Lincoln was well into traffic。
Two airport policemen ran up and grabbed him by the arms。 Thirty precious seconds were wasted as Smith struggled to identify himself。 Finally he was able to get Klein on the line。
〃Did you get the plate number？〃 Klein demanded after Smith told him about the car。
〃No。 But I saw the last three digits。 And there was an orange sticker in the lower left corner。 Sir； the Lincoln is registered to a U。S。 government agency。〃
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
〃Where are we going？〃
The heavily tinted glass between the front and rear partments prevented Adam Treloar from seeing the driver。 His voice； ing through hidden speakers； had a raspy quality。
〃There is no need for concern； Dr。 Treloar。 Arrangements have been made。 Please sit back and enjoy the ride。 There will be no further munication until we've reached our destination。〃
Treloar's eyes darted to the door locks。 He pushed the button to raise them； but to no avail。
What's happening here？
No matter how hard he tried to calm himself； Treloar could not erase the image of Smith： on the plane； in the customs area； spotting him； the recognition dawning across his face。 Treloar considered it a miracle that the transfer bus had pulled away from its bay before； Smith managed to get onboard。 But that hadn't stopped him。 Smith was like some savage hound； refusing to give up the chase。 Treloar had caught a glimpse of him in the main terminal； just seconds before he'd raced through the exit doors。 But even then Smith had almost caught up to him。 Treloar recoiled when he flashed on the hand curling over the door handle； trying to force it open。
I'm safe now； he thought； trying to reassure himself。 The car was waiting as they promised。 Smith won't be able to touch me where I'm going。
The rationale provided some fort； but it could not still other questions： Why was Smith after him？ Did he suspect that Treloar was carrying the smallpox？ Did he know？
Impossible！
Treloar was well versed in the protocols regarding a bioweapons alert。 If Smith had had the slightest suspicion that he was the courier； Treloar never would have made it off the jetway without being arrested。
Then why？ What had prompted Smith to focus on him？
Treloar sat back in the soft leather seat； gazing out at what appeared to be nightscape。 The car was moving swiftly along the highway that led from the industrial parks around Dulles into the city proper。 The driver didn't seem to be worried about being stopped for speeding。
Just as well； as far as Treloar was concerned。 The sooner they reached their destination； the sooner he would have his answers。
The news of Adam Treloar's escape did not sit well with Nathaniel Klein。
〃I know you did your best； Jon；〃 he said； speaking over a secure line。 〃But now we have Beria and Treloar to deal with。〃
Smith was huddled next to a pillar outside the main terminal。
〃I understand； sir。 But with Treloar； we have a break。 The tags on the car that picked him up were government。〃
〃I'm running them even as we speak；〃 Klein replied。 〃What I don't understand is why he bolted。〃
〃Because he's guilty； sir；〃 Smith said coldly。 〃There was no reason for Treloar to evade me。 It was clear that he remembered me from Houston。 So why run？ What was he so afraid of？〃 Smith paused。 〃And where was he going in such a hurry？ He didn't even pick up his luggage。〃
〃But according to you； he had a carry…on。〃
〃That he was holding on to as if the crown jewels were inside。〃
〃Hold for a moment；〃 Klein said。 〃Something's ing through on those tags。〃
Smith heard the sound of a printer； then Klein was back on the line。
〃The car that was waiting for Treloar is registered to NASA。〃
Smith was stunned。 〃Okay。 Treloar has enough seniority to have a driver meet him。 But that still begs the question： why run？〃
〃If he is running； Jon； would he have arranged for such obvious transport？〃
〃Sure… because he never expected to see me or to be the object of any attention。〃 Smith paused。 〃Let's find the car and ask him； sir。〃
〃Let's do one better。 I'll have a federal BOLO alert put out on Treloar。〃
The implications of what Klein suggested were far reaching。 A BOLO alert meant that every law enforcement officer within a hundred miles of the capital would have Treloar's description and orders to pick him up on sight。
〃In the meantime；〃 Klein concluded； 〃I want you here at Camp David。 The president is expecting a briefing on Beria。 I want him to hear your report firsthand。〃
The Lincoln wound its way up Wisconsin Avenue and crept down a quiet； leafy street。 An alumnus of Georgetown University Medical School； Treloar recognized the area as Volta Place… a neighborhood on the fringe of campus； slowly being gentrified block by block。
The locks popped up and the driver held the door open。 Treloar hesitated； then； picking up his carry…on； slowly stepped out of the car。 He took his first good look at the driver… built like a linebacker； with a square； expressionless face… and at his destination； a pleasant； recently renovated townhouse with painted white brick and black trim on the door and shutters。
The driver opened the gate in the wrought…iron fence that bordered the tiny lawn。 〃You're expected； sir。〃
Treloar walked up the flagstone path and was reaching for the lion's…head knocker when the door swung open。 He stepped into a postage…stamp…size foyer of polished hardwood and Oriental carpet。
〃Adam； it's good to see you。〃
Treloar almost fainted at the sound of Dylan Reed's voice behind the door。
〃Don't be so shocked；〃 Reed said； closing and locking the door。 〃Didn't I tell you that I'd be here？ Everything's all right now。〃
〃It isn't all right！〃 Treloar exploded。 〃You don't know what happened at the airport。 Smith…〃
〃I know exactly what happened at Dulles；〃 Reed cut him off。 〃And I know about Smith。〃 He eyed the carry…on。 〃Is that it？〃
〃Yes。〃
Treloar handed him the carry…on and followed Reed into a small kitchen that looked out on a patio。
〃Excellent job； Adam；〃 Reed was saying。 〃Truly excellent。〃
Picking up a towel； he removed the canister from the carry…on and deposited it in the freezer。
〃The nitrogen charge…〃 Treloar began to say。
Reed checked his watch。 〃I know。 It's good for another couple of hours。 Don't worry。 We'll have it safely stored by then。〃 He gestured at a round table in the breakfast nook。 〃Why don't you sit down。 I'll get you a drink and you can tell me everything。〃
Treloar heard the rattle of ice cubes and the clink of glass。 When Reed returned； he was carrying two tall glasses filled with ice and a bottle of good scotch。
After pouring generous measures； he raised his glass： 〃Well done； Adam。〃
Gulping his drink； Treloar shook his head violently。 Reed's equanimity was driving him crazy。
〃I'm telling you；