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Belgium. They are suspected of breaking into a German chemical company and destroying several million dollars’ worth of experiments. They’ve broken into laboratories to release test animals, many of them infected with diseases or experimental vaccines with unknown side effects. In short, they are highly motivated, well funded, and dangerous, and their next target will undoubtedly be Alaska.”
    The President was startled by Connie’s summation. “How can you be sure that they will target Alaska?”
    “Because their ship,
Hope
, is currently anchored in Prince William Sound, just outside the safety zone set up around the tanker shipping lanes headed into Valdez. And because Jan Veorhoven is said to be aboard.”
    “Have they taken any action?”
    “Not yet, but I consider their very presence a threat, don’t you?”
    “In light of what you’ve just said, yes,” the President agreed. “But there isn’t a goddamn thing we can do about it.”
    “I know they have a legal right to be there, but I want to make sure they are number one on the suspect list if anything happens.”
    “I’ll tell Dick Henna at the FBI to keep his ears open.”
    “I talked to him as soon as I heard the
Hope
was headed to Alaska. He promised to stay on his toes.” Connie’s last remark was almost flippant, but her eyes had hardened and her mouth was pursed into a tight line. She was serious. And scared.
     

George Washington University Washington, DC
     
    M ercer stood as the large group of students began a disinterested round of applause. He was sure that they weren’t applauding his presence, just the fact that they didn’t have to suffer through another lecture by their regular teacher, Professor Lynn Snyder. The one hundred and twenty students in the lecture hall were mostly freshmen, and though the school year was only a few weeks old, they had already developed a special loathing for Introduction to Geology. Professor Snyder’s presentation was as dry as the rocks she forced them to study.
    Lynn Snyder had been a doctoral candidate at Penn State at the same time as Mercer, and despite the few years separating them, she looked fifteen years older. While he had gone to the U.S. Geological Survey after receiving his Ph.D. and later to the private sector as a consultant, Lynn had ducked immediately back into academia. It always amazed Mercer that so many Ph.D.’s spent their entire careers creating clones of themselves in a never-ending chain of teachers.
    Lynn knew ninety percent of the class didn’t give a damn about geology. They signed up only to fulfill the school’s requirement for two semesters of science. Still, she hoped for that rare student who embraced the subject.
    However, that special type of student was few and far between, so Professor Snyder hit on the idea of giving her classes a practical application of geology in the form of Dr. Philip Mercer. Mercer was a field man who’d proved that studying igneous inclusions and anticlines could mean millions of dollars in gold or oil or some other precious mineral for mining corporations and substantial finders’ fees for himself. Though his lecture taught nothing critical, it was usually entertaining and on the end-of-semester comment cards, his visit was always a highlight.
    Mercer smiled at Lynn as he joined her on the lectern after his introduction. “Once more into the breach.”
    “Knock ’em dead.” Lynn gave Mercer a playful pat on the arm.
    Mercer adjusted the microphone and busied himself with a sheaf of notes he had no intention of using. His delay was a simple speaking tool to calm the audience and hold their attention for a few moments. The hundred students were spread throughout the lecture hall in GWU’s Funger Hall, one of the urban campus’s many classroom buildings. He thrust his left hand into the pocket of his light gray suit pants; his jacket was draped over a chair behind him on the dais. The room was at least eighty-five degrees despite