Silas awoke with a start.

　　He had no idea what had awoken him or how long he had been asleep. Was I dreaming? Sitting upnow on his straw mat, he listened to the quiet breathing of the Opus Dei residence hall, the stillnesstextured only by the soft murmurs of someone praying aloud in a room below him. These werefamiliar sounds and should have comforted him.

　　And yet he felt a sudden and unexpected wariness.

　　Standing, wearing only his undergarments, Silas walked to the window. Was I followed? Thecourtyard below was deserted, exactly as he had seen it when he entered. He listened. Silence. Sowhy am I uneasy? Long ago Silas had learned to trust his intuition. Intuition had kept him alive as achild on the streets of Marseilles long before prison... long before he was born again by the hand ofBishop Aringarosa. Peering out the window, he now saw the faint outline of a car through thehedge. On the car's roof was a police siren. A floorboard creaked in the hallway. A door latchmoved.

　　Silas reacted on instinct, surging across the room and sliding to a stop just behind the door as itcrashed open. The first police officer stormed through, swinging his gun left then right at whatappeared an empty room. Before he realized where Silas was, Silas had thrown his shoulder intothe door, crushing a second officer as he came through. As the first officer wheeled to shoot, Silasdove for his legs. The gun went off, the bullet sailing above Silas's head, just as he connected withthe officer's shins, driving his legs out from under him, and sending the man down, his head hittingthe floor. The second officer staggered to his feet in ............