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EXIT STRATEGY

The Secret Service agents exulted over the bust. "I've been dreaming about you," agent Melissa McKenzie said as she drove Max to the field office. On seeing his raised eyebrow, she added, "I mean about Iceman. Not you personally."

Two of the local agents were dispatched to Charity's house. They told her what happened and took her downtown to say good-bye to Max.

"I'm sorry," he told her when she walked in. "You were right."

Max talked to the agents at the field office for a while, trying to feel them out for what they knew and gauge how much trouble he was in. Some of them seemed surprised at his politeness—his sheer likability. Max wasn't what they expected from the cold, calculating kingpin they'd been tracking for a year.

On the drive to jail, McKenzie finally voiced her puzzlement. You seem like a nice guy, she said, and that's going to help you. "But I have this one question for you. . . ."

"Why do you hate us?"

Max was speechless. He never hated the Secret Service, or the FBI, or even the informants on Carders Market. Iceman did. But Iceman was never real; he was a guise, a personality Max slipped on like a suit when he was in cyberspace.

Max Vision never hated anyone in his life.

The Hungry Programmers were the first to hear the news that Max had been arrested again. Tim Spencer offered to sign for Max's bail bond. For collateral, he had twenty acres of land in Idaho that he'd bought as his dream retirement property. When Tim heard the details of the charges against his old friend, he hesitated. What if he didn't really know Max at all?

The moment of doubt passed, and he signed the form. Max's mother offered to post the equity in her house as well to secure her son's release. Ultimately, though, it didn't matter. When Max came up for arraign-