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He found Jeff Higgins lying on a cot in one of the back rooms of a somewhat battered but still intact bakery. Jeff didn't seem to be injured, just resting after what had been a nerve-wracking and exhausting day.

When he saw Mike come in, he started to get up, but Mike waved him back down.

"Relax, Jeff. This is an informal personal visit."

Jeff lay back down on the cot, propping his head on folded arms. After a short silence, he frowned and said, "I'm trying to figure something out. Did you set me up?"

The frown was simply an expression of puzzlement, not anger or condemnation.

Mike took off his cap and ran fingers through his hair. "I wouldn't put it that way, exactly. But, yes, I did use you as what amounted to bait in a trap."

Jeff thought about that, for a few seconds, staring up at the ceiling. Then the frown faded and he let out a little sigh.

"About what I figured. Did it work?"

"Sure did. We took the town in one day with light casualties—except for your regiment, that is. I've been told that's pretty unusual by people with a lot more experience at this than I have."

"Rough on the bait, though."

"Yes. It was. And I knew it would be when I sent you in."

Jeff lowered his eyes and looked at him. "You should have told me what you had planned, Mike. That's the only thing that pisses me off. But it really does piss me off. The Mike Stearns I used to know wouldn't have manipulated me like that."

"Fair enough. I won't do it again."

Jeff chuckled, in a dry sort of way. "Yeah, you will—and plenty of times. It's not like I don't understand why you do stuff like that, Mike. Just don't do it to me."

There was silence again, for perhaps a minute. Then Jeff sat up on the cot, swiveling his legs so his feet were on the floor.

"What now, boss?"

Mike shrugged. "Gustav Adolf just told me to take Zielona Góra. I don't think he expected we'd do it this soon. I sent him a radio message earlier but I haven't heard back from him yet."

"Hey, maybe we'll draw garrison duty for the rest of the war."

"I wouldn't count on it."

"You think?"

Chapter 29

Near the Warta river, northwest of Poznań

Wojtowicz's agent came into Stanislaw Koniecpolski's command tent, which had been pitched close to the river. It was more in the way of a pavilion, actually. Like the great magnate that he was, the grand hetman traveled in style even during wartime.

"Another message had arrived from Jozef," the agent announced. "And it's good news this time."

He gave the hand-written message to Koniecpolski.

Big storm coming. May last for days.

"Finally," he said. He turned to his aides, who half-filled the tent. "I want the army moving by dawn tomorrow. There's a Swede who needs killing."

Chapter 30

Vaxholm Island, in the Stockholm Archipelago

"Wonderful," muttered Charles Mademann. He stuck his head out of the tavern doorway and looked up at the early morning sky. It was solid gray everywhere you looked. Very dark gray, too. It was going to start raining soon and from the looks of it, the rain would be heavy and go on for quite a while.

And today was their last chance to carry out their mission. Realistically, at any rate. The princess and her entourage wouldn't leave until tomorrow, but when that happened they'd be under heavy guard and the queen most likely wouldn't make an appearance. She hadn't come out to greet her daughter at the docks when she arrived, so why would she accompany her to the docks on her departure? It was now two and a half months since Kristina had come to Stockholm, and relations between her and her mother had reached a nadir.

So they'd been told, anyway. But the information was almost certainly reliable. The Huguenots had developed good relations with several of the palace's servants, using French livres provided by Michel Ducos. He'd embezzled a small fortune from his former French employer, the comte d'Avaux. As a result, for the past two years all of the projects and missions of the group he led with Antoine Delerue had