"The government will start negotiations again. You told me yourself that everyone in the media is in an uproar about his kidnapping. Politicians can't take that kind of heat without caving in to pressure."

"It will be too late. The terrorists have already lost face. Those idiots in Washington have blown it."

"What if they have? Why should I care?" he burst out. "It's not my responsibility. You may have a king-size case of hero worship for the man, but he's nothing to me."

"He is your responsibility."

"You're talking as if I personally kidnappedthe bastard," he said sulkily. "You're not my conscience, Ronnie. I'd have thought you would have learned that by now. You can't change me and I won't march to your drummer."

She had learned that a long time ago, she thought wearily, but this time she couldn't let him wander away without his cleaning up his mess. "He's an extraordinary man. He deserves to live, Evan." His expression didn't change and she added in desperation, "I promise I won't ask your help again."

He gazed at her a moment and then a sudden boyish grin lit his heavy features. "The hell you won't. Whenever you decide you can use me to get a story, you'll be right there trailing behind me just like you did when you were a kid."

She smiled. "Well, maybe…" She pushed on quickly, heartened by the sign of softening. "But you've got to do this. There's practically no risk for you."

"Why are you being so damn stubborn? You don't even know the man." He tilted his head and gazed at her curiously. "Or do you?"

"What do you mean?" she asked warily. "I already told you I didn't."

"Falkner has a pretty hot reputation with the ladies," he said slyly. "I thought he might haveshown you sex is more fun than taking pictures."

"Maybe for you," she retorted, then went on quickly, "Gabe Falkner is a legend. I don't have to know him to know the news business would be a lot worse without him. What other boss would trade himself to a bunch of fanatical idiots like the Red December to free two of his reporters?"