But now he was talking about . . .

Naming their baby.

Meg had to sit down. Shead made love to him just a short time ago. She hadnat given a damn about protectiona"at the time it seemed ridiculous and uselessa"because she knew she was going to die. Shead told him she wanted his baby, but when shead said that, shead thought it was so far out of the realm of possibility. But John . . .

For John, it hadnat been impossible. When John had made love to her, he hadnat believed she was going to die. Head thought there was a very definite chance that he could get her pregnanta"and head made love to her anyway.

He wanted her to have his baby.

He wanted a lifetimea"head used that very word, and head actually meant it.

He loved her.

aIs that finally everything?a he asked her now. aNo more secrets?a She didnat get a chance to answer him.

Because the phone rang.

Meg leapt for it as John scrambled for his clothes.

aHello?a Her heart was pounding so hard, it almost drowned out her own voice.

aSorry to bother you,a a very American-sounding man said, abut this is the front desk?a The disappointment that hit Meg was nearly physical. She had to sit down on the bed.

It wasnat the Extremists who had Amy. It was the insect-man from the motel.

aMy wife just came back in,a he told her. aApparently thereas been a package here, waiting for you. Iam sorrya"it was under some newspapers and I didnat see it when you checked in.a A package. For Joan Smith. The hope was back with a surge of power through her veins.

aCan you send it up to this room?a Meg asked. aImmediately?a aIam on my way,a insect-man said.

The Bear was arguing with the woman with the dead soul.

Eve put her arm around Amy, who nestled more closely at the sound of the raised voices.

This didnat sound good.

The Bear gestured to the windows, gestured to the watch he wore on his left wrist.

aNot tonight,a Amy whispered. aThatas what heas telling her. Not tonight.a Eve looked at the little girl in astonishment. aYou understand them?a aJust a little.a Amyas brown eyes were so like her motheras. A grandmother wasnat supposed to have favorites, but she and Meg had always had a special bond. aSheas upset. Something about a phone call. Someoneas supposed to call, but they havenat so sheas mad. Something about being ready to leave quickly. Something about a boat to . . . somewhere. Cuba, I think. Something about you and me. Bear keeps telling her yes. Yes, but not tonight.a She frowned, worried. aI canat understand a lot of it. Itas been a long time since I lived in Kazbekistan.a Not tonight was all Eve had to hear. Yes, but not tonight meant yes, in the morning.

When the sun came up, the Bear was going to take them into the swamp and shoot them.

He followed the woman out of the room, still arguing, and Eve heard the woman stomp up the stairs, clearly angry at not having gotten her way.

The Bear stomped back into the room, scowling.

Eve gave him time to sit down, time to cool off. He was mad at the woman, mad at them, too. Mad at the world.

She knew what that felt like.

She waited nearly forty minutes, forty endless minutes, before she spoke.

aI wonder, young man, if you could arrange for Amy and me to have some soap and a towel so that we might wash?a He scowled at her, but she didnat let her gaze waver. She just kept on looking him straight in the eye.

aAllow us at least the dignity of clean hair,a she said quietly.

He didnat speak, didnat movea"aside from the muscle jumping in his jaw. He just gazed back at her for what seemed like another forty minutes.

Finally he stood up and left the room.

She heard the TV go on in the kitchen, blaringly loud. Was it possible the Bear had turned it on that loudly? He was always shouting at the others to turn it down. And what did that mean? For him to walk away, leaving them unguarded while he watched Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?

But she heard his footsteps returning, and when he came back carrying a gray towel and a bar of soap, Eve knew it was true. They had been scheduled for execution. The soap and towel was to be their final request.

aThank you,a she said, as in the other room the audience applauded a contestant whoad decided to use his lifeline.

Her heart was pounding as he led them upstairs to the bathroom. This was it. They had to go out that window tonight.

Right now.

If one of their captors saw or heard them, they would probably be killed on the spot. But that was a chance theyad have to take. If they didnat leave, theyad be dead tomorrow for sure.

The Bear stopped outside of the bathroom door, pushing it open and gesturing for them to go inside. As Eve did, a breeze pushed the shower curtain up and out, revealing the open window.

The Bear glanced at it and Eveas heart nearly stopped.

But then she saw her reflection in the cracked and grimy mirror. She was seventy-five years old, and after being held hostage for all these days, she looked every single minute of it.

She limped across the small room to hang the towel on a rack to further drive home the point. She was old and half lame. See? She could barely even walka"let alone escape out a second-story window.

aBe fast,a the Bear said. He touched her arm with a hand the size of a catcheras mitt. aBe as swift as you possibly can.a She looked up at him in surprise, but he was already out in the hall, shutting the door behind him.

Amy was already with the program, already in the bathtub, over by the window. aWeall have to be quiet,a she whispered to Eve. aEven if we slip and fall and hurt ourselves.a Eve smiled at her. aThatas my brave girl.a She turned on the water in the sink, letting it run, masking the sound as she took out the screen.

She had two last pieces of butterscotch left, and she took them from her pocket, giving one to Amy and opening the other herself.

aFor a little extra courage,a she said.

The sweet taste gave her a little bit of Ralph, too, whose ghostly spirit was with her still. Head done what head had to do all those years ago, in the French countryside just south of Dunkirk. And she and Amy would do what they had to do tonight.

They could do this. And they would.

aHold tightly to my hand,a Eve told the girl, and they went out the window and into the humid Florida night.

Despite Megas impatience, the package was opened by an FBI bomb squad. It had been wrapped in brown paper, and addressed in slanty handwriting.

To Joan Smith, c/o The Seagull Motel.

Beneath the paper had been a priority mailing box. And inside was a cell phone and a slip of paper with a phone numbera"a number that had Kazbekistanas country code.

As an FBI agent disguised as a delivery man returned the package, along with a large cheese pizza, to their room, Nils knew they were in the home stretch.

They no longer had to wait for the Extremists to call them. They could call the Extremists.

Meg took the phone and dialed.

It was dark.

That was good.

Eveas eyes grew accustomed to it as she held tightly to the waistband of Amyas pants. They moved as soundlessly as possible across the roof, toward the back porch.

In theory, shead figured they could climb down using the porch rail and the corner beam.

Reality was far more, well, real than theory.

In reality, the ground was very, very far away. In reality, a slip and a fall would not result in her landing on her feet like one of those X-Men that Amy enjoyed reading about.

Reality involved brittle, seventy-five-year-old bones. Reality also had the possibility of men with guns sitting out there on that porch. Men they could well come face-to-face with as they attempted to climb down from the roof.

Reality also ranked aas soundlessly as possiblea as a six on a scale from one to ten, with one being soundless and ten being as noisy as a fox in a chicken coop.

Still, the TV was blaring in the kitchen. With luck it was up too loud for anyone to hear the scraping and skittering sounds coming from overhead as they crossed the roof on their bondoons.

Amy was a trouper. Eve could hear the little girl trying to slow her ragged, fearful breathing, obviously conscious of the noise she was making.

You would be so proud of her, Meg.

Climbing down onto the porch railing was both easier and more difficult than Eve could have imagined. She went over the edge of the roof legs first, wrapping them around the corner beam, risking getting splinters in places where splinters had no right to be.

But right now she would be willing to sit on a porcupine if it meant saving Amy.

Eveas feet finally found the railing, and still holding on to that beam with all her might, Amy slid down into her other arm.

The child was part monkeya"thank goodness for tomboys! Once her feet hit the railing, she was out of Eveas arms and quickly down on the ground.

Eve hadnat been part monkey in yearsa"it took her a little bit longer.

But thena"alleluia!a"they were both on the ground.

aIam not going without you,a the little girl whispered. aI know your leg hurts, but weall just go as fast as you can, and hide if we have to.a Eve didnat take the time to answer. She just took Amyas hand and took off at a sprint, not on the road, but through the woods. If they kept going long enough and far enough, theyad eventually reach another house. And another house would have a telephone where they could call the police, the FBI, the National Guarda"anyonea"for help.

And theyad need that help, in spades. It wasnat going to be much longer before the Bear and his friends discovered theyad escaped.

And they would come after them, Eve had no doubt about that.

Amy was dragging, and Eve slowed her pace. The girlas shorter legs would naturally make it hard for her to keep up. And, chances were, Amy hadnat recently trained for a marathon.

When Eve was fifteen, shead fooled the world into thinking she was twenty because she looked twenty, and because people expected her to be twenty. That had taught her a thing or two about peopleas expectations.

When people saw a seventy-five-year-old with white hair and a wrinkled face, they expected to see old, to see weak, to see a limp.

They didnat expect to see a strong womana"with her share of age-generated aches and pains, yesa"whoad done rather well in a twenty-kilometer footrace raising funds for cancer research just a few weeks before leaving to visit her favorite granddaughter in America.

The underbrush was thick, and it smacked and scratched against them like reaching arms with claws. Spanish moss dripped like tendrils, and Eve tried very hard not to think about snakes.

After several long minutes at a brisk trot, they finally hit a road.

But there were no lights, no cars, no other houses.

They were in the middle of nowhere.

Twenty-four.

THEY WERE IN the middle of nowhere.

It was as if theyad gone back in time, to the days before Florida had become the mecca of vacationing families, to the days before the interstates, before the multitude of 7-Elevens and McDonaldas.

Meg was driving. Nils was in the backseata"just in case they were being watched.

The Extremists kept calling on the cell phone that had been in that package sent to the Seagull Motel, giving them further instructions in bits and pieces.

Meg had called the K-stani phone number. Shead been told to hang up and wait for a call.

When that call came in on that cell phone, they were ordered to get into Megas car and start driving south. Immediately. The Extremistsa"in their own amateurish waya"were attempting to make sure Meg would have no time to contact the authorities and get help.

But the FBI and most of the Troubleshooters squad were already prepped and ready to go.

Nils had a miniature receiver in his ear and a microphone attached to his coat. When activated, it connected him via secured radio line to Paoletti or the senior chief. He kept it open, relaying the information that came in in bits and pieces from the Extremists.

Head been talking pretty much constantly since theyad gotten into the car. As a result, the entire task force was now aware of the death sentence Meg believed that the Extremists had given to her. Not that it made that much of a difference. One of their top priorities already had been to keep her safe, at any and all costs.

The task force was already moving in station wagons and minivans instead of military trucksa"to keep a low profile. Paoletti had also told Nils that the agents and SEALs who were off duty were being rousted to form a support team. A van and a camper of men were being readied right now. Theyad follow a parallel route instead of trailing along behind.

Nils turned off his microphone.

aYou okay?a he asked Meg from the backseat.

aYeah.a She didnat sound okay. He could see only the back of her head and her shouldersa"and her shoulders looked pretty tight.

aYou want to go over the plan?a aRight before we get there, we stall until your guys get a chance to check the place out. We let them handle it. I donat get out of the car.a Megas voice was tight. aThereas not much to go over.a She was right. When she put it that way, it didnat sound like much. But she didnat know Tom Paoletti. She didnat really know what the Troubleshooters were capable of with even just a few minutes of prep time.

aYou know, John, back at the motel you asked me if I had any more secrets,a she said, and Nilsas heart sank. Ah, Jesus, what was she going to tell him now? aI havenat had time to breathe since you asked that, let alone tell youa"a aMeg, just say it, okay? Just put it out on the table so that we cana"a aI love you,a she said. aToo. I love you, too.a aa"deal with it anda"a Nils shut himself up and the silence in the car was complete for several long seconds.