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"This is going to get us nowhere," he said. "I'll pull the damn sheep off the road. If I blow up, you'll know it's safe then."

"Uh-uh," Coffey said. "You're not going out there."

"What choice do we have? The metal detector's tied to the main computer. We broke those batteries down and there isn't time to reassemble them."

"We'll have to make time," Coffey said. "Or at least turn the road check over to the Strikers."

Katzen shouldered past the attorney. "There isn't time for that either." He hopped onto the dirt road. "Besides, you're going to need them to save Mike and the colonel. I've been good to animals," he grinned. "This one wouldn't dare hurt me."

"Please be careful," Mary Rose said.

Katzen said he would, and walked out in front of the van. Coffey leaned out the door. Though the night air was surprisingly cool, his mouth was dry and his forehead was wet. He watched Katzen as the round-shouldered young man followed the flashlight beam into the glare of the headlights. About five yards in front of the van, he stopped and shined the beam around the road.

"I don't see any exposed trip wire," Katzen said. He shined his flashlight on the road and walked around the sheep slowly. "It doesn't look as if the dirt's been dug up." Hi reached the sheep and shined the flashlight down. The blood glistened a bright, oxygenated red in a wound which was nearly four inches in diameter. Katzen touched the blood. "There's been no coagulation at all. This thing was killed within the hour. And it's definitely a gunshot wound." Katzen bent low and looked under the sheep. He slid his left hand under and felt around. "There's no wire or plastique as far as I can tell. Okay, gang. I'm going to move this sucker."

The pounding of Coffey's heart and temples drowned out the gentle hum of the ROC engine. Coffey knew that it wasn't necessary for the body to be wired. It could simply be lying on top of a mine.

The attorney watched as Katzen set the flashlight on the road and grabbed the sheep's hindquarters. Though Coffey was afraid, it wasn't fear which kept him from joining his coworker. He stayed back because if anything happened to Katzen, he would have to help Mary Rose and the Strikers reach their destination.

Mary Rose squeezed Coffey's hand as Katzen held the sheep tightly and took a step back. The sheep moved an inch, then another. Katzen put it down, went to the other side, bent low, and flashed the light under the carcass.

"I don't see any booby traps," he said.

He returned to the hindquarters and pulled the sheep a little more. After it had moved another few inches; Katzen went back and checked beneath it. Again he saw nothing.

In just over a minute the environmentalist had moved the sheep entirely away from the space it had occupied. There was nothing beneath it, and Katzen quickly pulled it off the road. He was perspiring heavily when he returned to the van.

"So what the hell was that all about?" he complained.

Coffey was looking out into the dark. "The dead sheep could've been the result of army target practice, like we thought," he said. "Or maybe someone was out there, watching us. To see who we've got inside."

Katzen shut the door. "Well, now that they think they know," he said, "let's get the hell over this hill."

Mary Rose shifted the van to drive. She breathed deeply before pressing down on the gas. "I don't know about you two, but that did a number on my stomach."

Katzen smiled weakly. "Ditto."

While Mary Rose guided them toward the rise and the hillock beyond, Coffey went back to explain the delay to the Strikers. As the attorney knelt on the floor, he began to feel dizzy. He rested his forehead on his knee.

"Hey, Phil," Coffey said, "are you feeling okay?"

"I'm feeling a little drained," he said. "Why?"

Coffey's ears were beginning to ring. "Because I'm having a little trouble here. Dizzy. Buzzing in my ears. Have you got that?"

When Katzen didn't answer, Coffey turned toward the front of the van. He was just in time to see Katzen fall heavily into the passenger's seat. Mary Rose was leaning forward,