The man sighed. It had seemed like they had walked for MONTHS through the dense forest that surrounded the isolated Chautauqua Institution, but now they had emerged from a gorge beneath the 19th century library. The woman had kept up with him. She had crawled with him under the train. She had scaled the chain link fence, over the razor ribbon, and as silently landed in the village trash dump with him. She had immobilized the junkyard dogs for him. She had ridden in the compactor of the garbage truck he had hot-wired and drove while he bluffed his way through the predawn FBI gauntlet. And she had not complained. He was impressed with her. Natasha, sighed with relief. They had hiked for several miles around the ring of FBI and local law enforcement that ringed the Atheneum Hotel. But now they had scaled the slate and shale culvert under the library and were inside the service section of the Atheneum. She picked the lock on the linen storage closet and they had both changed into staff uniforms, she as a maid; he as a custodian. As she sat and stretched her back as she watched him assemble the SIG-Sauer SSG 300 with a rail M1913 sighting system and suppressor nearly two feet long. The SIG-Sauer was an accurate sniper rifle. She knew he would follow the predetermined plan and her daughter would be far away when 7.62 x 51 mm caliber shells hurled through the air and tore into flesh and bone.