Sara had heard all about how adrenaline could make you capable of anything. Those mothers that lifted cars to save their babies. They were the favorites. But until that day, her ears ringing with the fire alarm, her heart drumming wildly, Sara had never thought much of what it felt like.

And the strangest was, it felt so easy; like a dream.

Sara ran so fast she didn't feel the ground beneath her feet, didn't for a second think of whether her robe was unfastening and might reveal her nudity. So fast she actually felt the slap of the air against her skin. It was like flying.

And when Kellerman grabbed her by the hair, she felt no pain.

"Now," he said, "don't be stupid –"

She didn't turn around to look at him but somehow managed to reach him in the face as she sent her elbow crashing against him.

A vague groan behind her, and a wet snapping sound. Later, she'd reflect that she must have broken his nose; but not right now.

Sara hurled herself toward the exit door and disappeared into the corridor. She flew down the stairs, and though she couldn't feel the cushiony carpet beneath her toes, she could hear her assailant gaining ground behind her.

He didn't shout after her, for the same reasons that she didn't cry for help. What would be the point of drawing more people into this, if not getting them into trouble? Probably, Kellerman would just flash a badge at them and yell, "FBI, don't intervene!" Would Sara's neighbors believe that the quiet girl they'd been living alongside to could get into this kind of trouble? Why not? What was their actual knowledge of her compared to a badge? That was if he bothered with the badge at all, instead of taking his gun out and shooting them dead. It was better to keep this between the two of them.

Sara didn't suppose she'd ever bridged the six-floor distance between her apartment and the hall quite so fast. She could hear Kellerman, the weight of his footsteps behind her, the rustling of his suit as he ran, but she never turned back to look.

If I don't look back I might make it, I might –

His hand closed around her forearm just as she shot down the last few steps toward the exit door.

"Now, now," he said. "Let's not take this outside."

His hold on her was too strong for her to wriggle out of it. With one tug, he drew her back until she was pressed against him. The sound of the fire alarm was still ringing. Pretty soon, people were going to start pouring down those stairs almost as fast as they had done.

The thought was obviously on Kellerman's mind as well. "Goddamn it," he said. The fire alarm system was blaring from the wall, and Sara thought someone must have triggered it on purpose. There was no smoke.

She started in surprise as Kellerman took out his gun and fired. Once was enough. The rebound rocked through Sara's body because of how close they were.

"Sorry about that," he said, not unkindly. "Everyone back to your homes!" He shouted. Sara didn't know if heads had started poking down the stairs. "I'm FBI, this was all a false alarm, get back to your apartments now."

Adrenaline was still coursing through Sara's frame. Now, what happens? He drags you back upstairs, when you're so close? So close –

She propelled herself forward with all her strengths. For a second, she felt Kellerman's hold give way, but only as long as the surprise lasted. He tightened his arm around her waist and shoved the gun beneath her jawline.

"Stop doing that," he said.

His cheek was pressed against hers and she could feel the warm stickiness of blood between them.

"You didn't miss me, did you?" He sounded almost admirative. He inhaled deeply, as if to check the damages she'd done to his nose, and spat a mouthful of blood on the ground. "I didn't expect that from a doctor. I'll let you get away with it once, but only once, all right, Sara? There's being brave and then there's being stupid. You don't want to be stupid, do you? You try anything like that again, I'll strike back, and I can do a lot worse than you."

"I told you, this is useless," Sara said. "Michael is my patient. There's nothing between us –"

"Then who'd you suppose triggered the alarm?"

Sara couldn't reply. Kellerman reflected for a moment. "No, I'm quite certain I've got the right bait. But now, how do you suggest I handle you? Do we go back upstairs, wait for Michael to come and find us? Or do I arrest you, so he can watch me drive away with you? What would excite his heroism best, do you think? You're the doctor. You know what makes him tick."

In fact, Sara couldn't think at all, aside from the one imperative that she must act fast. If he got her back upstairs, she was probably as good as dead. Yet it wasn't like she could do much with a gun to her face. The exit door was so close, it felt like she could grasp the outside air if she reached out for it.

Sara gave herself mental slaps. Think, for heaven's sake. It was so tempting to give way to panic, to let herself be guided by the terrifying possibility of her own death. To just do as the man said, submit to his every word. Even supposing he used her to draw Michael out of hiding, then what? He couldn't let her live after what happened.

If she tried something now, she might die. But if she tried nothing, she would die.

And if Michael really had triggered the fire alarm, then he was close. All she had to do was manage to get out of here.

"Well," Kellerman's voice shook her out of her thoughts. "Upstairs might be better. I like to handle things privately."

"Wait," Sara said.

He had motioned to drag her back upstairs. One hand was still around her forearm, and the other was still holding the gun, which he'd lowered so it was pressed against her back.

"What is it?"

Sara ran on pure instinct. She had no idea what she was going to say until the words were out. "What if I could help you find Michael, without anyone getting hurt?"

Kellerman's lips broke into a triumphant smile. "Then he did confide in you."

"You must promise not to hurt him." Sara didn't care that this was a lie. All that mattered was to stall him. To distract him. "You could get him back to the asylum. He isn't a threat to you. Everyone believes he's crazy."

"They don't believe you're crazy."

Sara swallowed. What would be the point in saying she wouldn't tell anyone? She wasn't stupid enough to believe he would let her go back to her life. And she didn't think he thought her that stupid.

"If I lead you to him, do you promise not to kill him?"

She might have hated herself for how ridiculous she sounded, like a little girl begging Santa Claus for the biggest box in his carriage.

But he didn't have time to laugh at her.

The entry door of Sara's building opened. There was no key to insert, no security, which had never felt like a very important thing until today.

The light coming in from outside made the face of the man indistinguishable for a few seconds. Kellerman must have known before she did because he let her go and raised the gun to Michael.

"Come to play hero, have you?" Kellerman said. Then he fired.

All that happened afterward was too fast for Sara to have time to think. Michael rushed to the ground in time, and before Kellerman could fire again, Sara kicked his hand. Yes, actually kicked it. Heaven knew where the reflex came from. She didn't know she could raise her leg that high or even why she'd done it. There was only a brief flash of sensing that if she used her hands, he'd slam her away, and if she tried to throw herself against him to put him off balance, he'd shoot her.

The blow surprised Kellerman and the gun flew out of his hand. It skated on the ground until it bumped against the doors of the broken elevator.

Sara's eyes followed the gun so she did not see Kellerman's hand. She only felt the slap as his palm hit her, hard as metal. Maybe he'd gone easy on her – he could have hardened his hand into a fist. Still, the sheer force sent her crashing against the floor. There was no time to protect her face, and she felt her brow bone burst at the impact. She blinked away blood as she tried to sit up.

"I did warn you," Kellerman said.

"Get away from her."

Both Sara and Kellerman looked at Michael as he spoke. He had picked up the gun and was now aiming it at Kellerman.

A flash of annoyance swept Kellerman's features, then a smile. "Come on now, Michael. Who do you expect to fool? You're no killer. I know it. I suspect your little doctor here knows it."

Michael said nothing, his mouth stretched into a taut line.

For the first time since he had burst inside the building, Sara had time to really look at him. He was wearing regular clothes, which she couldn't help but view as odd, like she'd imagined she'd never see him out of his inmate's uniform. She noticed also the dark stubble on his cheek – Saint Abram's inmates were usually clean-shaven – and the dead-serious look in his eyes.

"Sara," he said, "run."

Sara scrambled to her feet and Kellerman made to grab her, maybe thinking if Michael had the gun, he would do well to have some leverage against him. His hand brushed against her hair but he didn't have time to grab her. A bullet flew past his hand as Michael fired a warning shot.

If Kellerman looked surprised at this, Sara didn't see it. She ran to Michael's side as quick as she could. His eyes were set fixedly on Kellerman, all the time that she moved, and even as he slid his hand into his pocket to retrieve a pair of handcuffs. He tossed them at Kellerman and motioned toward the stair railing.

"Tie yourself to that."

Kellerman looked keenly at Michael. "No, I don't think so. You better kill me, Michael, if you want to stop me. This will just slow me down, and I'll find you. You and your brother. And I won't try to lock you up this time."

Sara's vision blurred as blood trickled down her face. She wiped it with the back of her hand and Kellerman's eyes shot toward her.

"I am sorry about that," he said. "You shouldn't have gotten in the way. That was a really nice kick, by the by. Do you do yoga or something?"

This time the bullet brushed past his face. Sara started and looked at Michael. He never took his eyes off Kellerman. "No tricks," Michael said. "You tie yourself up, right now, or I'll shoot you. Don't call my bluff, Paul."

"Because that's all it is, no? Bluff."

"No," Michael countered. "Because you don't want to see what the past two years have made me capable of."

Kellerman was silent a while. "I'll tell you what," he said. "If you surrender right now, I won't go after the girl. How's that for a deal? You turn yourself in and she gets to go free." He chuckled. "What do I care if she starts screaming about government agents who kill people? No one will believe her. Even respected doctors can go crazy sometimes. She'll keep her mouth shut or wind up an inmate in the very asylum she works in." His eyes flickered toward her. "Won't you, Sara? If you don't do as I say, Michael… Then I guarantee you, not only will I find you and your brother and kill you both, as I should have done years ago. I'll kill your pretty doctor, first, and I'll do it slow enough that you can wish you'd taken my offer. What do you think?"

"I think you shouldn't have called my bluff," Michael said and shot him.