"BEAUTIFUL," Malcolm whispered, his eyes narrowed through surgeon's operating lenses at the bomb on the kitchen table.

With still hands, he twisted the thin red and green wires that ran from the explosive brick into the terminal on the blasting cap and molded the soft, puttylike C-4 into the frame of the briefcase. "It's a shame to have to blow this up," he exclaimed, admiring his own work.

Michelle had come into the room and she placed a hand tremulously on Mal's shoulder. He knew this scared the shit out of her - wiring the thing, current and charges going everywhere.

"Relax, honey. No juice, no boost. It's the most stable thing in the world right now."

Julia was on the floor, listening to the TV, the auburn wig ditched after her assignment last night. There was a news interruption about the murder at the Clift. "Listen." She turned it up.

"While police are not yet linking Bengosian's death to Sunday's bombing at the home of a prominent Bay Area tycoon, sources say there is evidence to connect the two inci-dents, and they are looking for an attractive brunette female in her early to mid-twenties who was seen entering the hotel with George Bengosian."

Julia turned down the volume. "Attractive?" She grinned. "Honey, they will never know. Whatya think." She covered herself in the wig and struck a modeling pose.

Michelle pretended to laugh, but inside, she wished she hadn't been so stupid as to leave that goddamn inhaler lying around. She wasn't like Julia, who had killed a man last night looking right in his eyes. And now she was laughing about it, gloating.

"Mica, honey." Malcolm turned around. "I need you to be a brave girl and place your finger on this spot." He taped the wired blasting cap to the soft C-4 and molded in the rigged cell phone. "This is the delicate part. I just need you to hold the green and red wires, baby, so they don't cross.... That would be very bad."

Mal always made fun of her. Just a Wisconsin cheese head, he would say with a laugh. But she had proved herself. She put her finger on the wire, trying to show that she was brave. She wasn't a farm girl anymore.

"Nothing to get worried about." Malcolm winked, seeing her unease. "All that drama about crossing the wires, that's for the movies. Now what is certifiably hairy is that I set these little wires to the ringer, not the phone battery; other-wise, they'll be picking up our parts as far away as Eau St. Claire." Her hometown.

Michelle's finger was trembling. She didn't know if he was toying with her or not.

"Done." Malcolm finally exhaled, pushing the lenses up ............