Patterson, James - Alex Cross 3 - Jack and Jill

They could see the buildings at Fort David below, just a little to the northeast in Catoctin Mountain Park. There were three Army Jeeps left in the open. No one seemed to be out on the well-wooded grounds today, though. Camp David itself looked rather odd: a strange cross between Army barracks and a rustic vacation place. Not too formidable. Nothing they couldn't work with, if need be, if the final plan demanded it.

“Camp David. Named after Eisenhower's grandson,”Jack said.

“Pretty good president, Ike. Generals usually are.”

Jack touched the holstered Beretta on his ankle. The gun was reassuring. But nothing was going to happen to the President right now, or to Jack and Jill. No, the game was about to go off in another direction. That was the beauty of it -- no one could predict where it would go. It was a game, designed as one, played as one.

He felt Sara's hand lightly touch his cheek. “How much longer do we have?” she asked. He suspected that she didn't want the sailplane ride to end.

“They'll never catch us,” he said and smiled.

“No, the ride, silly,” she laughed and patted his arm. “How much longer do we have up here?”

“You're not bored already? We're nowhere near the world's altitude record -- about forty-nine thousand feet, if I recall. Need a hell of a wave lift for that.” Suddenly, he seemed concerned that she might not be having a good time. That was just like Sam.

“No, no,” she laughed and put her arm around his neck. Sara held him tightly “I love it up here, love flying, love being with you. Thank you -- for everything.”

“You're welcome, Monkey Face,” he whispered against her cheek.

Two incredible killers.

Jack and Jill.

Flying over the President's famous retreat at Camp David.

See you soon, Mr. President. There nothing you can do to stop this from happening. Nowhere you can hide from us. Trust us on that.

Haven't we kept all of our promises so far?

ON THE HOUR-LONG DRIVE back to Washington, Sam seemed distracted and distant. Sara cautiously watched him out of the corner of her eye. It was as if he were still up in the sail-plane.

His brow was furrowed, his deep-blue eyes set on the road ahead.

He could get like this sometimes; but then again, so could she.

Sara the worrier. Sara the drudge.

They both understood and mostly accepted the good and the bad points about each other. The game of Jack and Jill was getting much tougher now for both of them. Every move was chancy and fraught with danger. They could be caught before the mission was completed. The hunters were all over the place.

One of the largest manhunts in history was under way. Not only in Washington, D.C., but everywhere around the world.

“I was just thinking about the game and how it's going, an honest evaluation. I was considering- a game inside our game,” Sam finally said. “Something more sophisticated. Completely unexpected by our trackers.”

Sara watched him detaching from his reverie, coming away from it, coming back to her.

“Yes, I could see that you were somewhere other than here on the beltway with me and all of these commuters. That much was pretty obvious.”

Sam grinned. “Sorry. You probably smelled the wood burning, too.” He was incredibly self-effacing -- something else she enjoyed about him. He didn't seem to realize that he was something special; or if he did, he kept it to himself. God, it was so easy when they were together, so hard when they were apart.

Sara wondered how she had survived before she met Sam. The answer was, Basically, she hadn't. She had been alive, but she didn't have a life. Now, she did.

“You're concerned about the progress of the game from here on, the exact sequence,” she said. “It's furrowed your brow. Poor dear Sam. What's your idea?”

He smiled and shook his head. He often told her how perceptive and intelligent she was. Not many men had ever said that to Sara Rosen -- practically none, in fact. Her intelligence scared most men. Even worse, she was verbal. So men usually needed to keep her down, to put her down constantly, to belittle anything she said that they we road ahead.

He could get like this sometimes; but then again, so could she.

Sara the worrier. Sara the drudge.

They both understood and mostly accepted the good and the bad points about each other. The game of Jack and Jill was getting much tougher now for both of them. Every move was chancy and fraught with danger. They could be caught before the mission was completed. The hunters were all over the place.

One of the largest manhunts in history was under way. Not only in Washington, D.C., but everywhere around the world.

“I was just thinking about the game and how it's going, an honest evaluation. I was considering- a game inside our game,” Sam finally said. “Something more sophisticated. Completely unexpected by our trackers.”

Sara watched him detaching from his reverie, coming away from it, coming back to her.

“Yes, I could see that you were somewhere other than here on the beltway with me and all of these commuters. That much was pretty obvious.”

Sam grinned. “Sorry. You probably smelled the wood burning, too.” He was incredibly self-effacing -- something else she enjoyed about him. He didn't seem to realize that he was something special; or if he did, he kept it to himself. God, it was so easy when they were together, so hard when they were apart.

Sara wondered how she had survived before she met Sam. The answer was, Basically, she hadn't. She had been alive, but she didn't have a life. Now, she did.

“You're concerned about the progress of the game from here on, the exact sequence,” she said. “It's furrowed your brow. Poor dear Sam. What's your idea?”

He smiled and shook his head. He often told her how perceptive and intelligent she was. Not many men had ever said that to Sara Rosen -- practically none, in fact. Her intelligence scared most men. Even worse, she was verbal. So men usually needed to keep her down, to put her down constantly, to belittle anything she said that they weren't entirely one hundred percent comfortable with.

Sam wasn't that way. He seemed to understand exactly what she needed. Is that part of the game, too? she wondered. Part of his game?

“There's going to be tremendous heat from the police and FBI coming our way soon,” he said, staring straight ahead at the gray ribbons of roadway. “What's gone before was nothing, Sara, absolutely nothing. The manhunt will increase exponentially from here on. They want to capture us badly. The FBI is assembling the best team possible, and make no mistake, it will be an impressive group. Sooner or later, they'll find something on us. It's inevitable that they will.”

Sara nodded in agreement. Still, he had frightened her. “I know that. i'm ready for it; at least, think I am. You have an idea how to deal with this blistering heat that's coming our way?”

"Yes, I think I do. It's something I've been thinking about for a while, but I believe I've solved it. Let me try this one out on you.

Tell me what you think."

See? He did want her opinions. Always. He was so different from the others.

He looked over at her, made eye contact. "It's so simple, really.

We need perfect alibis. I have an idea how to accomplish that. It involves a slight change in our game plan, but I think it's worth it."

She tried to keep the concern out of her voice. “What kind of change? You don't want to go after the target we already agreed on?”

“I want to change the next target, yes, but I want to change something else as well. I want to get someone else to do the next kill. That way, we'll both have airtight alibis. I think it's a powerful twist. I think it could be the clincher for us. If anyone is onto either of us, this will throw them off completely.”