CHARLES DANKO didn't spray me with ricin. That was what the doctors were saying, hovering over me all morning at the toxicology unit at Mof?t.

And the vice president wasn't going to die. Word was that they had him two floors below me, that he had even been on the phone to his boss in Washington.

I spent several hours with a maze of tubes and wires stick-ing out of me, monitors reading my blood and chest scans. The contents of Danko's canister were identified as ricin. Enough to kill hundreds of people if he had gone undetected. Danko had ricin in his lungs, and he was going to die. I wasn't sorry to hear it.

About noon I got a phone call from the president, as in the president. They stuck a phone to my ear, and in my daze I remembered hearing the word hero about six times. The president even said he was looking forward to thanking me in person. I joked that maybe we should wait for the toxic glow to settle down.

When I opened my eyes after a snooze, Joe Molinari was sitting on the corner of my bed.

He smiled. "Hey. I thought I said `no heroes!'"

I blinked and smiled, too, a little more groggy than tri-umphant, embarrassed at the tubes and monitors.

"The good news," he said with a wink, "is the doctors say you're fine. They're just holding you for observation a few more hours. There's an armada of press waiting for you out there."

"The bad news?" I said, hoarsely.

"Someone's gonna have to teach you how to dress for these photo ops."

"New fashion look." I squeezed back a smile.

I noticed that he had a raincoat draped over his arm and was wearing the navy herringbone suit I'd seen him in the first time. It was a very nice suit, and he wore it well.

"The vice president's recuperating. I'm heading back to Washington tonight."

All I could do was nod. "Okay..."

"No" - he shook his head, inching closer - "it's not okay. Because it's not what I want."

"We both knew this would happen," I said, trying to be strong. "You have a job. The interns..."

Molinari scowled. "You're brave enough to go after a man holding a canister of dead............