Karen watched the news at home. Her phone rang. It was Bobby.

"The girls are safe."

She dropped the phone and sobbed on the floor.

Consuelo had said four rosaries that morning. She had lit so many prayer candles that the night had turned to day an hour early in her house. When the TV person said the girls were alive and well, she fell to her knees and thanked God.

Denny Macklin and Buddy cried in front of the TV in his cell. Buddy slapped Denny on the shoulder.

"Denny, you made your dad proud."

Beckeman stood in the center of the room with the hostages, the judge, the black bailiff, the Mexican matador, and Agent Pea. His agents searched the house but came up empty. Beckeman turned his hands up.

"Where the hell are they?"

"Look," Abdul jabbar Khalid said.

He pointed at the television. The scene was from the Siddiqui brothers' house. The FBI had stormed the house and found the girls. But not them.

"See, it worked," Abdul said. "The FBI is stupid and arrogant and prejudiced. They accepted our anonymous tips on Haddad and the Imam and our setting up the Siddiquis without question. They are Muslims, therefore they must be terrorists."

"The Imam is a terrorist."

"All the better for our plan."

By tipping off the FBI to the bomb plot, to Aabdar Haddad, and to the Imam, the FBI thought they had apprehended the terrorists, so they had unconsciously relaxed, like soccer players when they know they've won the game. Then they kidnapped the judge and demanded the Imam's release; kidnapped the girls and demanded the Imam's release; posted the YouTube video and demanded the Imam's release. That reinforced their conclusion that the Imam was the mastermind. The FBI had focused all of their attention on the Imam, which allowed Abdul and Saadi Khalid to fly under the radar. They framed the Siddiqui brothers for this moment: the FBI was there, and the Khalid brothers were here. And truth be known, he enjoyed taunting the FBI, a lone wolf evading their high-tech surveillance. Catch me if you can! They could not catch Abdul jabbar Khalid.

"Come brother, let us take a hundred thousand Christians and Jews to meet Allah."

Abdul and Saadi walked out of the house they rented in East Dallas and got into their Honda Civic. Destiny awaited the Khalid brothers.

"I hope the girls are okay," Saadi said.

"We're bleeding," Boo said.

"Bleeding?" Scott called out to the agents. "They're bleeding! We need some help over here!"

Two EMTs rushed over with a medical case. They dropped to the floor and opened the case then pulled on latex gloves.

"Lay down, honey," one said to Boo.

He took her shoulders and gently laid her down. The other EMT did the same with Pajamae. They checked the girls for obvious blood but found none.

"Tell me where you're bleeding," the first EMT said to Boo.

"No," she said.

"Boo, where are you bleeding?" Scott said. "He needs to know."

"No."

"Boo-"

"I'm not telling him. I'll tell Cat."

Cat pushed in and dropped to her knees. Boo gestured her closer. She put her head close to Boo's then her ear next to Boo's mouth. Boo whispered something; Cat came up with a relieved expression. She addressed the EMTs.

"Do you have any feminine hygiene products in that case?"

They both exhaled.

"Uh, no, ma'am."

"Let's go to the bathroom, girls."

They helped the girls up. The three females walked off. The three males looked helpless, as men do in these situations.

"Single father," Scott said.

"A man can't raise women," the older EMT said.

Agent Beckeman came over but gestured in the girls' direction. "They okay?"

Scott nodded. "Female matter."

"Ah."

Beckeman turned to a dozen agents in body armor and plain clothes standing in a circle in the middle of the room.

"Where the hell are the brothers?"

His question was answered with silent shrugs and confused expressions. The silence lingered until broken by a new voice behind them.

"Oh, no, we've been robbed!"

All eyes turned to the opening where the front door once hung. Two young Arab men stood there with suitcases in hand. Scott pointed at them.

"That's them! I saw that one in Whole Foods!"

The agents pointed their guns at the men. They dropped their suitcases and raised their hands.

An agent entered the room carrying yellow sneakers, a black ISIS flag, and a sword. Which brought the anger back inside Scott. He stepped to the men.

"Which one of you is Abdul?"

"I am," the tall one said.

Scott punched him in the face, knocked him to the floor, and jumped on top of him. He punched him again and again until he was pulled off by FBI agents. He sat on the floor breathing hard. Agent Beckeman stood over him with a bemused expression.

"Judge, you can't beat up suspects. It's unconstitutional."

Beckeman turned to Agent Stryker. "You did a sneak and peek and didn't find the sword?"

"Maybe it wasn't here."

"Maybe you fucked up." He turned to the Siddiqui brothers. "Confess now, and you might not get the death penalty."

"That's not our sword," the shorter brother said.

"Oh, right. Someone framed you."

"You were stalking me in Whole Foods!" the judge said.

"I was shopping!"

Boo walked into the living room with Cat and Pajamae. Two older boys sat on the floor handcuffed. One seemed familiar. Where had she seen him?

"Who are they?" Pajamae asked.

"The men who kidnapped you," Scott said.

"Which one is Abdul?" Boo asked.

Beckeman pointed at the bigger boy. "Him."

Boo walked over to Abdul and punched him in the face; he fell over backwards. She pointed a finger at him.

"That's for trying to sex me!"

"He tried to sex you?" A. Scott said.

Before she could answer, he dove on top of Abdul. All she could see was his fist swinging down.

"Hit him! Hit him!" Boo yelled. "You want a golf club?"

Two FBI agents grabbed A. Scott and pulled him off Abdul. Her father was red-faced and breathing hard, just like that day at the Village, when he beat up the big bald man's car with a nine-iron. That was the day Mother left them.

"I didn't try to sex her." The agents lifted Abdul up. His face was red, his nose was bleeding, and he sobbed like a baby. His mean voice was gone. "As Allah is my witness, it was not me."

Boo hugged A. Scott. Boy, she loved that man.

"Judge," Beckeman said, "you gotta stop beating him up. There'll be nothing left to prosecute." He turned to his agents. "Clean him up, before we perp walk them. The press will think we did that." He turned to the brother named Saddam. "You expect me to believe you were in New York City the last week?"

"Yes. We can prove it."

"Why?"

"So you don't arrest us for a crime we didn't commit."

"No. Why were you in New York?"

"Our brother, he got married."

"Why did you come back today?"

"We're going to the Super Bowl."

"To blow up the stadium?"

"To watch the game. We have tickets."

A cat came over and jumped into Saddam's lap.

"Oh, kitty," he said. "Did you get fed?"

As if he were talking to a newborn.

"What the hell is going on?"

A middle-aged woman stormed into the house. She glanced around at the bashed-in door and the mess in the house. She was not pleased.

"Who did this damage?" she said.

"Who are you?" Beckeman said.

"I own this property. Who did this?"

"We did."

She pointed a finger in his face. "You're going to pay for this."