11:57 p.m.

The United States Naval Academy - Annapolis, Maryland

It was a strange place to meet.

Luke was dressed entirely in black. He wore black gloves. There was a black hood stuffed in his pocket.

The dark football field of the Navy Marine Corps Memorial Stadium spread out in front of him. The vast empty stands towered above him. GO NAVY was painted in massive letters across the upper tier of seats. In the night, the words looked white, but he knew that in the daytime they were yellow against a dark blue background.

He hung back, lingering in the shadows of the end zone concourse ramp. He watched the darkened broadcast booth at the top of the stadium, looking for the slightest movement. If he were a sniper, that was where he would be.

A man walked across the field toward him. Gradually, the man became clearer. He was tall, heavyset, walking as though he was carrying more weight than he once had. He wore a long overcoat. He came closer still, and now Luke could make out the dark suit under the man's coat, and the soft, almost doughy features of the man's face.

He entered the darkness of the concourse ramp.

Luke moved, only slightly. "Mr. Secretary?"

The man started, just a touch. It was clear he hadn't seen Luke there. His eye was drawn immediately to the black matte Glock in Luke's hand. Luke holstered it for the moment, to put the man at ease.

"Yes," the man said. "I'm Dave Delliger."

"I'm Luke Stone."

"I know who you are. I was on a call with the President today. You're the man who saved his life."

"Temporarily," Luke said.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry things happened this way."

Delliger nodded. "I am, too."

"I hate to ask you this, sir, but is there any chance you were followed here?"

Delliger nodded again. "There's every chance. I attended the new President's swearing in two hours ago at Site R. I took a Navy helicopter here. Site R is a hundred miles away, in the mountains. In the dark, with my failing night vision, it would have taken me until tomorrow morning to get here."

Luke faded back against the wall. That was the wrong answer. Certainly not the one he was hoping for.

"Don't worry," Delliger said. "There's nothing out of the ordinary. They have no reason to suspect me. This is my alma mater, and I taught here for many years. I still keep an office and a bedroom on campus. The Navy lets me do it because they're so proud of me. I am what you might call a fixture here. I told the people at Site R that if we're all going to die, I would prefer to do it here than in a hole in the ground."

"I was under the impression," Luke said, "that you once roomed with President Hayes at Yale."

"Law school," Delliger said. "I did, and we really were best pals, like everyone says. But that was later, after I performed my military service." He raised his arms and gestured at their surroundings. "This is my true home."

"President Hayes was murdered," Luke said.

"I know he was. It was a coup d'état. I was there when Bill Ryan took the oath of office. Everyone was quite pleased with themselves, believe me. Now we're going to have a war with Iran. Ryan's going to make the declaration tonight, if he hasn't already made it. Why wait for the Today Show to come on? And since most of the Congress is dead, there's no sense asking them to declare it. Makes me wonder how the Russians are going to feel about all this."

"We can stop it," Luke said.

"What, the war?"

"The coup."

"Mr. Stone, as far we know, time only moves forward. You can't stop something that has already happened."

Luke was silent.

"The President and the Vice President are dead," Delliger said. "The next two in line are Bill Ryan and Ed Graves, both hawks, both alive. After that, the entire line of succession is gone. They were all at MountWeather. If you were going to stop this, assuming such a thing were possible, and topple Bill Ryan, who would you replace him with? At this point, who is the legitimate heir to the throne?"

"I don't know," Luke admitted.

All day, he had been so focused on stopping it from happening that it hadn't yet occurred to him the whole thing was already over. He was only now beginning to grasp the sheer scale of the operation. Don had told Luke he was window dressing, but that was wrong. He wasn't window dressing. He was a bug on the windshield.

For a second, Luke's mind flashed backwards to tonight's meeting with Paul.

Paul had described Luke as a kamikaze flying a toy plane into an aircraft carrier. It would seem spectacular, but it would actually be pathetic.

"I don't know either," Delliger said. "But it doesn't really matter, does it? They have people everywhere. Can you imagine who had to be involved to make this happen? Can't you see how high this goes? If you were somehow able to undo this, who could you ever trust again? You'd have to root the conspirators out of every department and agency. This government is a corpse riddled with maggots."

He paused. "I wish I had known all this five years ago. I never would have accepted the position. I would have thanked Thomas for the honor, politely declined, and gone about my business. Secretary of Defense? It's a joke. They humored me. I was never in charge of anything."

"We can find evidence," Luke said. "We could bring a case. Anything, a toehold, something to offer the media. You're still on the inside."

Delliger shook his head softly. "I've been informed that President Ryan anticipates my resignation first thing in the morning. If he receives it, he will publicly thank me for my service and my dedication. If he doesn't receive it, he'll fire me for gross incompetence. It's my choice."

Luke was thoughtful. "Why did you agree to meet me?"

Delliger shrugged. "I think you're a good man. You're obviously a brave one. I thought I should tell you that if it isn't too late, you ought to walk away from this. Just walk away. Maybe they'll leave you alone. Life is a beautiful thing, Mr. Stone. And there's more to it than fighting battles you can't possibly win."

Luke took a deep breath. There was no point in telling this man that it was already too late, at least for Luke himself.

"Is that what you're going to do?" he said. "Walk away?"

Delliger smiled. It was a sad, rueful smile. "I'm going to walk over to my office right now and draft my resignation. Then tomorrow I'm going to get my old life back. You know I'm a pretty good gardener? It's a favorite hobby of mine, and one I haven't been able to indulge in years. I just haven't had the time. I know, it's already June, so I'm a little behind the curve this year. But the growing season is long and forgiving in this part of the country."

Luke nodded. "Okay. Goodbye, Mr. Delliger."

"Goodbye, Mr. Stone. And good luck to you, whatever you decide."

Delliger turned and started off across the field again. Luke stayed against the wall. He watched Delliger dwindle into the distance. When Delliger reached the fifty-yard line, a single gunshot rang out.

CRACK.

It echoed off the grandstands of the stadium, and through the tree-lined streets of the surrounding area.

Luke's eyes scanned the empty stadium, trying to spot the shooter. He hadn't noticed a flash, even a suppressed one, so the shot hadn't come from the broadcast booth. He would have seen it from the corner of his eye. He realized that bullet might have come a long way. The best shooters could make that shot from two thousand yards, even longer. The United States military trained some of the best shooters alive.

He gazed back across the field. Delliger's body was out there, a dark lump halfway across. It occurred to him that they hadn't even bothered to silence the shot. They could have, and they didn't.

Luke removed the black hood from his pocket and pulled it on over his head. The only thing showing was his eyes. He slid down along the concrete wall toward the concession concourse. A moment later, he had disappeared into the shadows.