Four hours later, Harry arrived in DC on the corporate PAV flown at its max speed from Chicago. An hour after landing, he returned to the Excelsior. Porsche was there at the same table, waiting for him this time.

"Where are my stones?"

He produced and handed her a velvety string-tied purse. "I moved heaven and earth for it," Harry said.

Porsche judged its weight and shook the pouch, listening to the crinkling of tiny stones. She splayed the neck and beamed.

"Two hundred twenty-six carats in there," Harry said. "Just under one point six ounces."

"That's more than we agreed."

"Sure is. Three times in fact. They're uncut."

"Uncut is not per our agreement," Porsche said, a scowl on her face.

"These have few visible inclusions, I'm told. This is the fastest way I could get you your purse."

"You're playing me again."

"Am I?"

"Why so much?" She placed the pouch on the table and removed her hands from it. It crunched softly as it flattened out.

"New contract."

"You can't be serious."

"When it comes to my life, very."

She looked at him warily and licked her lips, her eyes returning to the pouch.

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"I need you," Harry said in earnest.

"You're making me very unhappy, Uncle, mixing these stones in with my original fee so I can't walk away. I'm tired of your games."

"And I thought a million in uncut diamonds would put a smile on your face, no?"

She shook her head, yet her eyes didn't wander from the pouch.

"Could be five times as much by the time they're cut and polished. This amount could set you up nicely for a long time, something you've always wanted, right?"

"Only if I say yes to this new dog and pony trick."

"Not a trick."

"You're a puppet master from hell." Porsche considered, eyeing him, then the pouch.

"Easy job, really. You'll have one chump to look after -- me."

"You still plan on sitting down with Lockheart?"

"Hence, the insurance."

"Insurance doesn't cover stupidity."

"There's more where this came from. Much more." He paused. "Or give it back, if you don't want it." He reached for the sac when she slapped his hand away. Harry smiled knowingly.

After a second, she mumbled, "I hate you. Now what?"

Harry nodded, pleased. "Find Lockheart and fast. I want what's in Moreau's head. The longer this goes by, the colder the trail. So time is a factor."

"Lockheart and his crew never came out of Baltimore Sector. I waited for three hours. They slipped away," Porsche said. "And I don't know where to reacquire their trail. Sorry, you got a dead end." She pocketed the pouch and made a motion to stand up.

"You have one huge lead," Harry said. "The Marlboro woman -- she was there just before the hit."

"The giantess? Bug off."

"I read the transcript of their conversation. Is it a coincidence she was at Moreau's place just before the hit? Maybe she's there to test his loyalty?"

"You're saying she's colluding with Lockheart?"

"A plausible scenario, no?"

"No, the tone I heard between them was different -- there was respect in her voice."

"Let's find out. Make contact with Marlboro. And from there, we set up the meet with Lockheart. You choose the locale -- someplace public with lots of people, and with clear lines of sight."

"Leaving it up to me?"

"You'll be doing overwatch, so yes. I'll rely on your marksmanship to keep me safe."

"I'm a big advocate for body armor."

"Body armor won't matter with Lockheart."

She resumed shaking her head. "And why would the Sandman agree to a tête-à-tête?"

"He won't say no to me."

"Sure about that?"

"Go, we don't have much time," Harry said.

"I'll find the amazon." Porsche considered. "And if she won't cooperate?"

"Simple -- carrot or stick."

"You haven't seen her. Sticks won't do shit." Porsche mimed imaginary shoulders with her hands.

"Well then, your choice is easy."