The Web

Prologue

John Rourke stood in the rain. He'd landed the Beech-craft because the plane had been almost out of fuel. As best he'd been able to judge from the maps, the plane was about twenty-five miles from Chambers and U.S. II headquarters.

Paul was sitting in the plane, talking to his parents; the pilot had gone to find some kind of transportation. The radio wasn't working well, too much static.

Beside Rourke stood Maj. Natalia Tiemerovna. "The truce will be over soon, John; it is over now, I think."

"At least it showed we're still human beings, didn't it?" Rourke said quietly, his left hand cupped over his dark tobacco cigar, his right arm around Natalia.

"You will go on looking?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Where do you plan to go?"

"The Carolinas, maybe Georgia by Savannah. She was likely headed that way."

"I hope you find her—and the children."

Rourke looked at the Russian woman. Rain water streamed down her face—and his. ''Thank you, Natalia."

The woman smiled, then lowered her eyes. She stood beside Rourke in the pouring rain.