Edge of Apocalypse by Tim Lahaye, Craig Parshall Page A

catching was the look on Gallagher's face off-camera, grinning at the out-of-control talk-show host. Finally, Ivan started to collect himself. Then he pointed to the camera and shouted, "Turn that thing off!"
    The picture went dark.
    "What happened next?" Miles asked. Gallagher knew his boss and recognized in his voice that strained attempt to keep cool.
    Gallagher reached into his briefcase, took out a substantial pile of papers, and tossed them onto the table.
    "All the names and addresses of each guest on Ivan's talk show for the past year. Plus the contact information for the station's tech staff."
    "Your approach is not protocol," Miles said matter-of-factly, but his eyes were closing nervously as he spoke. "You know the standard procedure. You go to the U.S. attorney's office. They go to the DOJ and get permission for a subpoena to the telephone company for a listing of the telephone calls to Mr. Teretsky's studio. Set a court date. The telephone company responds--"
    "My way's quicker."
    Miles pointed at the video screen. "I don't like what I just saw," he warned. "I'll have to decide whether I write you up because of this."
    "Miles, think about it. We can still get a subpoena if you want. As this investigation continues--"
    "If this investigation continues," Miles threatened with a little less monotone than usual. Then he stood up. "Please secure that videotape in the evidence room," he demanded and turned to leave.
    Gallagher was stunned. He had to chew on that for a minute while he remained in his chair. Finally he reached over and snatched up the papers off the table. He couldn't believe what his boss was suggesting. That the FBI would actually drop an investigation into leaked information which compromised national security.
    Come on, Miles, what's going on here?

EIGHTEEN
    Davos, Switzerland
    Two entire floors of the Hotel Belvedere had been rented by Caesar Demas to accommodate the large staff that operated his private foundation. For his own comfort, though, the billionaire had secured a sprawling villa in the nearby mountains. He was a man who loved quiet whenever possible. And on the day before the start of his organization's fifth annual World Peace Summit, he had a lot of thinking to do.
    Demas, with his neatly trimmed beard and carefully managed salt-and-pepper hair, stood on the massive veranda with a cup of mint tea in his hand. The view of the Alps was stunning, to be sure, but that particular moment, he wasn't contemplating the scenery.
    That afternoon Demas was expecting a visitor who might be able to help move him, maybe, just a little closer to his ultimate goal.
    He had not yet finished his tea when Alexi, Demas's longtime administrative chief, entered the security foyer of the villa's private quarters, along with the visitor from the U.S. State Department, and pressed the buzzer signaling their arrival.
    Using a remote, Demas unlocked the door. He gave a warm welcome to his guest, while Alexi simultaneously vanished from the room.
    Strolling out onto the veranda, Demas made small talk with Mr. Burke until he sensed that it was time for business. Then he jumped right to the point.
    "I was very happy to hear that Secretary of State Danburg will be addressing our peace conference. Has he arrived?"
    "He has. We traveled together. The accommodations are greatly appreciated. Secretary Danburg should be settled into his suite shortly after our security people complete their sweep."
    "I was hoping to be able to get a sense of his remarks."
    "We knew you would," Burke replied with a smile and handed Demas an envelope. "Here's a draft of his speech. I had the privilege of working on it with him. We're asking that it remain embargoed until thirty minutes prior to his remarks tomorrow afternoon."
    "Of course," Demas said courteously. He understood the rules. He opened the envelope and began to scan the draft. After a minute, Demas looked up.
    "There is a strong implication here," Demas responded tapping the