lpless than most. The only oddity was that they
hadn't made sure of the woman they'd marked. Possibly Rascal and his
locals had arrived before they were able to.

Odeon grinned wolfishly at that thought. Joanie was alive, and she
wanted revenge. That kind of personal motivation wasn't really
necessary, but in going after terrorists like the Brothers it didn't
hurt; some of the things necessary in anti-terrorist sweeps were hard
to stomach. And the Brothers were the worst of the terrorists, as well
as the most wide-spread; they had units in every one of the Systems,
while most groups were restricted to one or two.

He was getting off the subject, though, he told himself sternly. He was
here to protect Joanie's interests, not worry about the Brothers. And
if he was going to do that, it might be a good idea to get up.

He glanced at the clock, then almost tangled himself in the sheets in
his hurry to get out of bed. It was almost six-thirty! If he didn't
get a move on, he'd be late for seven o'clock Mass!

He made it, though with barely a minute to spare, and he found peace as
usual in the familiar liturgy. There were still times he wished his
call had been to the priesthood--he'd been raised in a monastery, by
the White Fathers, after his parents died--but for the most part, he no
longer missed the life too badly. The Fathers had comforted him when
it became clear that his vocation was military rather than religious;
enforcing civil order, they'd reminded him, was as important to human
welfare as ministering to spiritual needs. And when he'd been
commissioned, directly into Special Operations, several of them had
been at the Academy to congratulate him.

As he went forward to take Communion, Odeon found his thoughts going to
Joanie. He shouldn't be thinking about her, not now . . . but he
couldn't concentrate on the Sacrament properly, even as he accepted and
swallowed the Host. Well, the Fathers had taught him that if he
couldn't, despite his best efforts, maybe he wasn't supposed to--and it
wouldn't be the first time something had resolved itself this way.
Returning to his place in the small chapel, he said a brief prayer to
the Blessed Virgin as the Compassionate Mother for guidance. Surely,
she would help the only officer of her sex in this dangerous vocation!

* * * * *

He was feeling better when he entered Egan's office half an hour after
Mass was over. He hadn't found