She recognized it, because she had arrived in the Section with it herself. With more of it, in fact. A woman in the Special Section, she had come in believing she had a lot to prove. It had taken almost a year before she understood that arriving in the first place had been proof enough.

Still, Lankford worried her, and this ill-concealed hunger for revenge only added to her concerns. He'd had one go into the field since being named Minder Three, hence his provisional status. It had been in St. Petersburg, six weeks back, and he'd gone with Chace as her backup, and had failed dismally at the outset, only to redeem himself-marginally-later in the op. Whether he knew it or not, Lankford was on thin ice with Chace and, worse, with D-Ops.

"Nothing," Chace repeated. "Unless you know something you're not sharing with Nicky and me, Chris?"

He took it in, the frustration visible, then let it go with a shake of his head and turned back to watch the plasma screens.

"You two get down the Pit," Chace told Poole. "I'll go up to the Boss's office, wait for him there."

"Bench-warming?" Poole asked.

"You could go through the circulars these past six months, see if D-Int dropped anything that might point a finger."

"Will do."

"For whatever good it'll be worth," Lankford groused. "Bit too late to act on it, don't you think?"

"Not if there's another one coming," Chace said and, scooping up her helmet, headed for the lift and the sixth floor.

3

London-Vauxhall Cross, Office of the Chief of Service 07 August 1720 GMT The SIS headquarters at 85 Albert Embankment, Vauxhall Cross, had many names, and few of them were complimentary.