For security reasons he never left the computer on or attached to a phone line when he wasn't working on it. For the same reason he carried no cell phone, pager or personal digital assistant. Though he had one, he rarely carried a laptop computer, either. Pierce was paranoid by nature-just a gene splice away from schizophrenia, according to Nicole-but also a cautious and practical researcher. He knew that every time he plugged an outside line into his computer or opened a cellular transmission, it was as dangerous as sticking a needle into his arm or having sex with a stranger. You never knew what you might be bringing into the pipeline. For some people, that was probably part of the thrill of sex. But it wasn't part of the thrill of chasing the dime.

He had several messages but only three that he decided to read this night. The first was from Nicole and he opened it immediately, again with a hope in his heart that made him uncomfortable because it verged on being maudlin.

But the message was not what he was looking for. It was short, to the point and so professional that it was devoid of any reference to their ill-fated romance. Just a former employee's last sign-off before moving on to bigger and better things-in career and romance.

Hewlett, I'm out of here.

Everything's in the files. (by the way, the Bronson deal finally hit the media-SJMN got it first. nothing new but you might want to check it out.)

Thanks for everything and good luck.

Nic Pierce stared at the message for a long time. He noted that it had been sent at 4:55 P.M., just a few hours earlier. There was no sense in replying, because her e-mail address would have been wiped from the system at 5 P.M. when she turned in her scramble card.

She was gone and there seemed to be nothing so permanent as being wiped from the system.

She had called him Hewlett and he wondered about that for a long moment.