THE Maryland Parks Commission had faxed Tully an aerial view of Harding’s property. The first thing Tully noticed was that, from above, the area looked like an island except for a sliver that connected it to the mainland. The property jutted out into the water with the Potomac on two sides and a tributary on the third.

“The SWAT team is assembled and ready to go,” Cunningham said as he entered the room. “Maryland State Patrol will meet you on the other side of the bridge. Are those any help?” He came around the table and looked at the map.

“Can’t see any buildings. Too many trees.”

Cunningham bent down to examine the map. “From what I understand, the facility housing the generator is in the upper northwest corner.” He ran his index finger over the spot. “The house would need to be close by. Any idea how long Harding has lived here?”

“At least four years. Which means he’s settled and knows the area. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had a bunker somewhere.”

“That seems a bit paranoid, doesn’t it?”

“The guy was a recluse long before he and Stucky started their business. Some of the video games he sells are his own creations. The guy may be a computer genius, but he’s weirder than hell. A lot of the games are white supremacist garbage. He even has one called ‘Waco’s Revenge.’ Probably sold truckloads of it in 1999, so it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s well prepared.”

“What are you saying, Agent Tully? You mean we might have more problems on our hands than busting a couple of serial killers? You think Harding may have an arsenal in there, or, worse, have the property booby-trapped?”

“I don’t have any proof, sir. I’m just saying if Harding is as extreme as his games would suggest, he could freak out with the FBI showing up on his doorstep.”

“Wonderful.” Cunningham walked over to the bulletin board where Tully had tacked up printouts of Harding’s Web site next to photos of the crime scenes.

“When is Agent O’Dell scheduled to be here?”

Tully glanced at his watch. She was already a half hour late. “She should be here any minute now, sir,” Tully said, without indicating he thought that she might not show up. “I think we have everything we need. Is there anything I’m forgetting?”

“I want to brief the SWAT team. We should let them in on your suspicions,” Cunningham said, looking at his own watch now. “What time did Agent O’Dell leave D.C.?”

“I’m not sure. Will they need any extra preparations?” He avoided his boss’s eyes.

“No extra preparations. But it is important they know what they’re in for.”

When Tully looked up, Cunningham was staring at him with his brow furrowed.

“You’re sure Agent O’Dell is on her way here?”

“Of course, sir. Where else would she be headed?”

“Sorry, I’m late.” O’Dell came in as if on cue.

Tully restrained the deep sigh of relief he felt.

“You’re just in time,” he told her.

“I need a few minutes with the SWAT team, and then you’re on your way.” Cunningham headed out the room.

As soon as it was safe, Tully asked, “So how close to the toll bridge did you get before you turned back?”

O’Dell stared at him in surprise.

“How did you know?”

“Lucky guess.”