Dark Rivers of the Heart

society of fanatical assassins, like in an old Fu Manchu novel?"
        "More or less." She was serious. "It's a nameless government agency, financed by misdirected appropriations intended for lots of other programs. Also by hundreds of millions of dollars a year from cases involving the asset-forfeiture laws. Originally it was intended to be used to conceal the illegal actions and botched operations of government bureaus and agencies ranging from the post office to the FBI. A political pressurerelease valve."
        "An independent cover-up squad."
        "Then if a reporter or anybody discovered evidence of a cover-up in a case that, say, the FBI had investigated, that cover-up couldn't be traced to anyone in the FBI itself. This independent group covers the Bureau's ass, so the Bureau never has to destroy evidence, bribe judges, intimidate witnesses, all that nasty stuff. The perpetrators are mysterious, nameless.
        No proof they're government employees."
        The sky was still blue and cloudless, but the day seemed darker than it had been before.
        Spencer said, "There's enough paranoia in this concept for half a dozen Oliver Stone movies."
        "Stone sees the shadow of the oppressor but doesn't understand who casts it," she said. "Hell, even the average FBI or A.T.F agent is unaware this agency exists. It operates at a very high level."
        "How high?" he wondered.
        "It's top officers answer to Thomas Summerton."
        SPencer frowned. "Is that name supposed to mean something?"
        "He's independently wealthy, a major political fund-raiser and wheeler-dealer. And currently the first deputy attorney general."
        "Of what?"
        "Of the Kingdom of Oz-what do you think?" she said impatiently.
        "First Deputy Attorney General of the United States!"
        "You've got to be putting me on."
        "Look it up in an almanac, read a newspaper."
        "I don't mean you're kidding about him being the first deputy. I mean, about him being involved in a conspiracy like this."
        "I know it for a fact. I know him. Personally."
        "But in that position, he's the second most powerful person in the Department of Justice. The next link up the chain from him…
        "Curdles your blood, doesn't it?"
        "Are you saying the attorney general knows about this?"
        She shook her head. "I don't know. I hope not. I've never seen any evidence. But I don't rule out anything any more."
        Ahead, in the westbound lane, a gray Chevrolet van topped a hill and came toward them. Spencer didn't like the looks of it. According to Valerie's schedule, they weren't likely to be in immediate danger for the better part of two hours yet. But she might be wrong. Maybe the agency didn't have to fly in thugs from Vegas. Maybe it already had operatives in the area.
        He wanted to tell her to turn off the road at once. They had to put trees between themselves and any fusillade of machine-gun fire directed at them. But there was nowhere to go: no connecting road in sight and a six-foot drop beyond the narrow shoulder.
        He put his hand on the S.I.G 9MM pistol that lay in his lap.
        As the oncoming Chevy passed the Rover, the driver gave them a look of astonished recognition. He was big. About forty. A broad, hard face.
        His eyes widened, and his mouth opened as he spoke to another man in the van with him, and then he was gone.
        Spencer turned in his seat to look after the Chevy, but because of Rocky and half a ton of gear, he wasn't able to see through the tailgate window. He peered in his side mirror and watched the van as it dwindled westward behind them. No brake lights. It wasn't turning to follow the Rover.
        Belatedly, he realized that the driver's look of astonishment had nothing to do with recognition. The man simply had been amazed by how fast they were going. According to the speedometer, Valerie was pressing eighty-five miles per hour, thirty over the legal speed limit and fifteen or twenty too fast for the condition of the road.
        Spencer's heart was thudding. Not because of her driving.
        Valerie met his eyes again. She was clearly aware of the fear that had gripped him. "I warned you that you didn't really want to know who they are." She turned her attention to the highway. "Kind of gives you the heebie-jeebies, doesn't it?" (c..
        "You've been given an ice-water enema?" she