LITMIR.BIZ

      At the sight of the wound, his anger rekindled. He was angry that by bad fortune Nova Blair had been the one to pursue the assassin. “Legendary,” his phone contact had said. Legendary for what? He moved to the other side of the room so he could see their faces.

      “The assassin’s dead,” he said. “Suicide capsule I’d guess.”

      His partner didn’t say anything.

      Graywing shook her head and said, “Ghastly.”

      “How’s your head?” he said to Blair.

      Without moving she said, “It’s nothing.”

      Graywing clucked. “Not so. It is a deep, two-inch long scalp wound. She insists she won’t remain here for observation, but I’ve told her for the next twenty-four hours she must look out for signs of concussion. Drowsiness or nausea.”

      “How’d it happen?”

      Blair shrugged. “I took the elevator and managed to beat him to the first floor, but I couldn’t hold him.” She spoke softly, her answer dragging like a whipped dog. Very unlike the confident woman he’d met a couple of hours ago.

      “I suppose he just barged right past you?”

      Nova Blair raised her chin slowly. She straightened her shoulders and her hair fell back from her face. “There was a bit more to it than that.” Her eyes had taken on a glacial, emerald chill.

      He stuck his hands into his soggy suit pockets. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that quite like it sounded.”

      “Yes, you did. Exactly like it sounded.” She lowered her head again and Graywing clamped another staple. A sickening sound. He was glad he couldn’t see what the doctor was doing. His partner said, almost as if to herself, “There was something bizarre about him. I’ve never felt that kind of strength in any man.”

      A loud silence followed, as if the room was holding its breath. Agent Blair finally broke it. “You were telling us, Dr. Graywing, before we heard the screams, that there were three things Wiley said. First, that the terrorists had gas masks. Second, that Wiley smelled burning coffee. We’d like to hear the third. Agent Cardone, you’ll find my recorder inside my purse, on top. What was the third thing, Dr. Graywing?”

      The doctor let her gloved hands hover in the air a moment, obviously thinking, while Joe found and started the recorder. After a brief pause the doctor plunged ahead, stapling as she talked. “It was the oddest part. I regret very much he can’t tell you himself, because I’m not absolutely sure I remember exactly how he put it.”

      Joe said, “Do your best.”

      “Well, Wiley said when he was a kid he loved dinosaurs. He’d memorized most of their names. He said he swore that when the man in the gas mask ran past his door he yelled out the name of a dinosaur. Terratornis. You’re stapled,” she finally said.

      Nova raised her head, twisted around and the look of puzzlement on her face matched his own feelings perfectly. “A dinosaur name?” she repeated.

      “That’s what Wiley said. He said he thought Terratornis was a kind of dinosaur, and he was sure that was what the man yelled out.”

      “Well, it’s as good a lead as we’ve got,” Blair said. She stood and faced him with a new confidence in her eyes and said, “Let’s see what headquarters has to say about all this.”