Hal unscrewed the earpiece and the mouthpiece of his telephone receiver, slipped the base plate off and poked around inside before he satisfied himself that it had not been tampered with. He riffled through the sparse remaining files while Leo checked the heater ducts. When they were finished, Hal sat down behind his desk and motioned Leo toward a chair directly opposite.

"I'm in a bind," he said, presenting Turrin with the understatement of the year. "Somebody's got me marked as a mole."

"If I can help..."

"We'll get to that," Brognola interrupted. "First, I want to put you in the picture. When you've heard me out, if you're inclined to take the chance, at least we'll both be going into it with open eyes."

"All right."

There was no doubt in Turrin's mind that he would offer any possible assistance, but he recognized Brognola's need to fill him in before accepting a commitment. Hal would no more let a friend expose himself to unknown risks than he would sell out his own department. It was unthinkable.

In short, clipped sentences, the big Fed told him everything. The disappearance of his wife and children. The communication from their obvious abductors. His return to Washington, the Oval Office meeting, and his confrontation with the manufactured "evidence" of personal corruption. He was waiting for another call at noon, some thirteen minutes off.

"What have they got, exactly? Did you see this so-called evidence?"

Brognola shook his head. "I'll have to let the lawyers hassle that," he said. "Right now my top priority is Helen and the kids."

"It's got to be connected," Turrin said unnecessarily.

"Of course. I just can't bother with the job right now."

"Were you suspended?"

"Not exactly. I'm on holiday, through Monday."