Surely that wasn't possible. But the pattern Painter laid out...it was so clear, like a deadly hand of cards.

"Let me guess," Painter continued, adding to the pattern. "When things really began to go wrong...at the test farm in Africa...who did you turn to?"

"Krista, of course," Ivar admitted, his voice catching. "She reported the mutations, that some of the camp refugees were becoming sick after consuming the corn. Something had to be done. But we'd already planted production fields around the world. She said the situation could still be salvaged, but she and her organization would need a free hand. She warned I must harden my heart. To save the world, what were a few lives? Those were her words. And dear God, I was desperate enough to believe them."

Ivar's breathing grew harder. His heart pounded in his throat. He pictured Krista naked, kissing him, her eyes fierce and bright. He had thought he'd known the game being played.

What a fool I've been...

Painter continued the story, as if he'd been standing beside Ivar these past days. "The Guild razed the village and told you that was necessary to prevent the organism from spreading. They took the bodies of some of the afflicted villagers for study and justified what came next. Let their deaths not be in vain. If more could be learned, others could be saved. And with seed production already begun, time was essential."

Senator Gorman sat with his eyes wide, his fists clenched on his knees. "What about my son?"

Ivar answered that agonized plea. "Krista told me she found Jason copying secure data. She said he planned to sell it to the highest bidder."

Gorman pounded his fist into his thigh. "Jason would never-"

"She showed me his e-mail with the stolen files attached. I privately confirmed that the file was sent to a professor at Princeton."

"Princeton wouldn't engage in corporate espionage."

It pained Ivar to tell the man about his son. "Her organization had proof that the money trail led to a terrorist cell operating out of Pakistan. To expose him would expose us. It would also destroy your career. Krista tried talking to him, to convince him to give up his contacts, to keep silent. She said he refused, tried to run. One of her men panicked and shot him."

Gorman covered his face.

Ivar wanted to do the same, but he had no right. He knew that the boy's blood lay on his hands. He had ordered Jason held and questioned by those brutal mercenaries.

Then Painter tore away the last of Ivar's delusions. "Jason was innocent. It was all lies."

Ivar stared across the table, dumbstruck. He wanted to dismiss what the man was saying.

"Jason was killed because he inadvertently sent the incriminating data to Professor Malloy. It was why they were both murdered. To cover up proof of the crop's instability. The Guild didn't want that exposed."

Painter stared hard at Ivar. "Once the information was leaked, they needed a scapegoat. You were to be thrown to the wolves. After they killed you in Svalbard, the Guild could safely fade away and take all the prizes with them: both a new bioweapon and the means to control what had already been unleashed. The global contamination by your crop would be blamed on the reckless ambition of a dead CEO. And with you eliminated, no one would be the wiser. To the Guild, you were no more than a pawn to be sacrificed."

As Ivar sat perfectly still, cold sweat trickled down his back. He could no longer deny it. Not any of it. And down deep, maybe he had known the truth all along but dared not face it.

"But I have one last question," Painter continued. "One I can't answer."

He slid a sheet of paper across the table. Written on it was a familiar symbol.

A circle and a cross.

Painter tapped the sheet. "I understand why the Guild would kill Jason and Professor Malloy, but why murder the Vatican archaeologist? What does this have to do with the Guild's plan?"

6:12 A.M.

Painter knew Karlsen was near the breaking point. The man's eyes were glassy, his voice a hoarse whisper. He clearly struggled with the depth of betrayal perpetrated against him. But the Guild were masters of manipulation and coercion, of infiltration and deception, of brutality and violence.

Even Sigma had once fallen prey to them.

But Painter offered no solace to the man.

Karlsen slowly answered his question. "Father Giovanni approached our corporation two years ago to fund his research. He believed that the mummified bodies found in the peat bog were the victims of an old war between Christians and pagans. That the fungus was used as a weapon to corrupt crops and wipe out villages. And this secret war was buried in code in a medieval text called the Domesday Book. His supporting documents were impressive. He believed a counteragent existed to the spread of the fungus, a cure, a way of eradicating it from land and body."

"And you financed the search for this counteragent?"

"We did. What could it harm? We thought he might turn up some new chemical that we could exploit. But about the time we began to suspect that our new crop was unstable, we heard that Father Giovanni had made a huge breakthrough. He had found an artifact that he was sure would lead to the location of this lost key."

Painter understood. "Such a counteragent, if it existed, would solve all your problems."

"I had Krista interview him to judge the validity of his claim and to secure the artifact." Ivar closed his eyes. "God forgive me."