Author's Note: As many of you may know, Sipahigiri has been in the works for over 18 months, so needless to say, Chapter 25 was written long before the events of September 11th. As I prepared to post this chapter, I considered changing the closing airport scene to more accurately reflect the realities of flying in today's world. After much consideration, I decided not to do so. Perhaps I'm too much of an optimist, but I honestly believe that the day will come when events like those of September 11th will be a thing of the past. With that hope for the future, and the belief that the world of the Quests is always "15 minutes into the future", I left it the way it was. I hope that everyone reading this story will hold the same hope for our future. With the good will and efforts of people throughout the world, perhaps soon the day will come when this kind of terror will be a thing of the past.




Chapter Twenty-five


As she sat at the table leisurely conversing with Jonny, Hadji and Kefira following a celebratory meal, Jessie glanced at the clock. She stiffened abruptly when she realized it was already 8:00 p.m. Jean-Paul could call any time and she still hadn't told anyone about the arrangements she'd made. Sighing, said quietly. "You know, we've put off reality about as long as we possibly can. The sooner we confront this, the sooner it will be over." Looking from Jonny to Hadji she asked, "So, what arrangements have you made?"

"We have plane reservations out of Logan Airport at midnight tonight," Jonny replied in the same somber tone. "We'll fly straight though to London, and from there direct to Bangalore."

"We should arrive in the early morning hours," Hadji added.

Jessie thought about that for a bit and finally shook her head. "I don't think that's good plan."

The two young men exchanged a look and Jonny replied, "Why not?"

"Because you don't know what you're walking into."

"What would you suggest instead?" Hadji asked her.

"Fly direct to London. I don't have a problem with that. But from there, take a more round about manner of getting to Bangalore. Turn up unexpectedly. If your enemies don't know where you are or when you're due to arrive . . . or better yet, even if you're coming . . . you run less risk of being targeted the instant you set foot in Bangalore City."

Hadji considered it for a moment and then reluctantly shook his head. "For protection, it is a good plan. But there is nothing that says that things have gotten that dire. And I believe that it is important that when I arrive, it is with the proper royal carriage. To slink in will not send a strong message, either to my people or to my enemies."

"Getting yourself killed will send a worse one," Jessie replied pointedly. As she did so, Jonny saw her glance at the clock hanging on the wall just outside the kitchen door.

"Do you know something we don't, Jess?" Jonny asked her, looking troubled. "It's not like you to jump at shadows."

"The men who attacked us were not shadows," Kefira replied. "One of them even told Hadji that he would not be in a position to rule much longer."

"Yeah, but still . . ." Jonny looked across the table at his brother. "I know you and Neela have had your problems. And I know, too, that you were pretty ticked at her for the announcement of your planned marriage to Kefira. But would she honestly withhold news that indicated you were on the brink of being overthrown?"

Hadji shook his head. "No. But they take great care to see that she does not get wind of such things. I have tried to call both Rajeev and Vijay Patel today. They are my most reliable sources of information about what is going on both in the countryside and in the Palace. Unfortunately, Vijay is away from his office today and there appear to be phone line problems in Panjal Province as I am unable to get through to Rajeev."

Jessie sat forward suddenly. "I don't like that at all," she said with a frown of concern. Once again, her eyes flicked to the clock.

"I do not believe it is anything to be alarmed about," Hadji said reassuringly.

"It often happens," Kefira agreed. "Particularly if there have been storms in the mountains, which frequently happens at this time of year."

"I still don't think you should just walk in there without knowing what's been going on during the last 24 to 48 hours. Surely there's someone else you can ask."

Hadji thought about it and finally shook his head regretfully. "No, I do not believe there is. Yes, there are people that I trust, but I do not have a good method of communicating with them from here. They are hidden informants - if I try to reach them now and the conversations are intercepted, I run the risk of exposing them to my enemies. I simply do not believe the situation is serious enough to take that risk."

For the third time, Jessie's eyes darted to the clock, and it was finally more than Jonny could ignore. Leaning forward, he laid his hand on her arm and said, "All right, what's going on? What are you waiting for?"

"What?" she replied, startled.

"You've been jumpy and watching the clock for the last hour. Something's up. What is it?"

Guiltily, Jessie opened her mouth to reply, but before she had the chance, the sudden burring ring of a cell phone interrupted her. In that instant, her face made a remarkable transformation. It turned cold and distant and there was a hard tone in her voice as she rose, saying, "There's no time now for questions. Just sit there and don't say a single, solitary word until I'm finished." When Jonny would have protested, she repeated sharply, "Not a word!" Snatching up her purse, she reached in and pulled out a cell phone. Flipping it open, she answered in a voice as smooth as velvet,

"Hello? Jean-Paul . . . how wonderful to hear from you again! A find for my husband? Of what kind? Really? How interesting! Yes, I definitely want to see it. If it is as good as you claim, I am sure Anton will be more than interested." Gesturing frantically to Jonny, she pointed to the desk and pantomimed writing. He leaped up silently and snatched up a pen and paper and brought it to her as she returned to the table and sat down. "So tell me . . . Um hmmm . . . 18th century . . . yes, yes . . . gold on blue. Is it gilt? It is. How remarkable. It has been authenticated then. I see." She jotted a sequence of numbers down on the paper quickly and then read them back to him. "Docket 23-417-982457. Is that correct? And you say it's available from where? Lloyds. Wonderful. Yes, I am definitely interested. When can I see it?" They watched as a frown settled on her face. Her tone was regretful as she replied, "Tomorrow at one? I'm afraid that is impossible. I am already committed then. Can we possibly do it earlier . . . say 9:30?" She listened to the reply for a moment, then sighed before continuing. "Well, I suppose if 10:00 is the earliest you can make it, it will have to do. I will plan to meet you at the museum. Excellent. As always, Jean-Paul, working with you is nothing but a pleasure. I will see you tomorrow morning."

Flipping the cell phone closed, she commanded Jonny, "In our room on the bookshelf . . . I need that old copy of Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms."

"But what . . ."

"NOW!" she snapped. Turning to Hadji, she continued quickly. "We don't have much time. It's 8:35 and in about 20 minutes you have to be ready to walk out that door with everything you need to take with you. You won't have the chance to come back for anything. Also, dress in dark colors. We've got some places to go before we meet your plane and we don't want to be seen. Get a move on."

"I do not underst -"

"I'll explain as soon as we're on the road. Don't argue with me! We don't have the time."

Kefira took one look at Jessie's hard, determined expression and said, "Come, beloved. I will help you and Jonny pack." She was herding him toward the back of the apartment when Jonny reappeared with the requested book. He would have begun asking questions again, but Kefira stopped him. Taking the book, she passed it on to Jessie and then turned toward the back of the apartment once more. "We are to get the two of you packed. Jessie will explain as soon as she finishes what she is doing and you are ready to leave."

Jessie sat down at the table and looked at the docket number that Jean-Paul had given her. Codes came in many different forms, but some of the oldest were those based on a common reference volume. Most of the time, they were specifically-designed codebooks. But for someone like her, who wasn't in the loop on a daily basis, a codebook of that type got outdated too quickly. So when her father had set her up with his associates, they had chosen a set of common books that could be used in an emergency, but that would not look out of place sitting on the shelf in anyone's house. She had six different books that Jean-Paul could have chosen . . A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway, David Copperfield by Charles Dickens, The Hunt for Red October by Tom Clancy, a compilation of the Lord of the Rings trilogy by J. R. R. Tolkien, Rise and Fall of the Third Reich by William Shirer, and Nighthawk by Kristen Kyle. The classics were all very specific editions, all were worn but well-cared for, and all appeared to have received a great deal of use. They were also all apparently gifts from her father at various times, as demonstrated by the inscriptions on the inside book cover. The sixth book, Nighthawk, was a paperback romance novel . . . what Jonny liked to call a bodice-ripper . . . that had only been through one printing. She had read them all numerous times just to ensure that she knew them as well as their apparent use seemed to indicate she should.

Jean-Paul's call had told her a great many things beyond what appeared on the surface. His telling her that he had an 18th century piece of art for her to look at had told her what he was calling for, the time of the viewing told her when, the location of the supposed auction told her what book, and the docket number used in conjunction with the book would tell her where.

Ten minutes later, Jonny reappeared at the head of the hallway, carrying a small navy blue carry-on suitcase. All the lights in the apartment had been turned off before dinner and the only illumination in the living area now came from the light above the table where Jessie sat. He stood silently for a moment in the darkness, staring at the young woman who meant so much to him. The book she had requested had been shoved away and Jessie now sat with a bowed head, contemplating something written on a sheet of paper in front of her. Her grim, distant expression suddenly made him feel like he didn't know her at all, and his belly clenched in fear and uncertainty.

Finally, he cleared his throat, causing her to twist in her chair and peer sharply into the gloom. The light from the table barely reached him and in his black cargo pants and long sleeved black T-shirt, he was little more than a dim silhouette against the distant wash of light from the bedrooms down the hall. When he saw her looking at him, Jonny said quietly, "Answer one question for me." Something in his voice caused her to pause.

"What?"

"Who's Anton?"

In the years since Race had led her to that first rendezvous with his agency contacts, he told her often that the key to surviving in that dark world of lies and deceit was the ability to put everything at a distance and to be able to act coldly and dispassionately.

A memory surfaced suddenly and she remembered a conversation she had had with her father when she was about 14 years old. They had been talking about ways to protect yourself when working undercover . . .

"An agent's greatest weakness, Jess, are the people and things he really cares about. Allow your enemies to know what those are, and they have a powerful weapon to use against you. You must learn to distance yourself . . . especially from those people that mean the most to you."

"But why, Dad? Why do you have to do that to people that you know you can trust?"

"Because, Ponchita, your enemies aren't always the ones you need to fear. With them, you can maintain the detachment that will allow you to survive. But the people that matter are the ones that can get behind your walls of self-defense and shatter that detachment. And when you lose that distance, you begin to make decisions based on feelings rather than cold, hard facts. You lose the objectivity you need to make hard choices."

"That's what happened to you and Mom, wasn't it?"

"In a way. Your mother couldn't deal with the distance I had to keep when I was working."

"But if that's the end result, is it really worth it?"

"It's a choice, Jessie. You either take the job or you don't. If you take it, then it's your responsibility to do what needs to be done to complete it. What you have to remember is that by doing this, not only do you keep yourself safe, but you protect them, as well."

As Jonny took a hesitant step forward, the light from above her highlighted the planes of his face in sharp contrasts of light and dark. She was struck forcibly by the fear and vulnerability visible there and she could feel that objectivity begin to crumble. 'Who's Anton . . . ?'

Without another thought, she leaped to her feet and flung herself at Jonny. Catching him in her arms, she held him tightly. "No!" she whispered fiercely. "Don't you even think something like that! Not EVER, you hear me?"

He clung to her frantically. "I know I've been gone a lot. I don't mean . . ."

"Stop!" she pleaded with him. "Don't do this. It's not what you think, I swear. I love you. You know that." He didn't reply . . . simply dropped his head to her shoulder and buried his face against her neck. "I love you so much . . ." she whispered to him. Finally, she released him and pushed him back. "Go help Hadji," she told him, struggling to keep her voice from breaking. "We're running out of time. I'll explain everything, I promise."

Without another word, he turned and disappeared back down the hallway. Jessie turned back to the table and sank down into the chair again, her father's voice echoing in her head once more. In that instant, it all hit her. In a little more than three hours, Jonny was going to board a plane and leave her for a place from which he might never return. And now, on top of that, she was leading him into a situation where she was exposing him to all of the elements of her father's old job that Race hated and feared . . . into a situation where her father told her she needed to become distant and cold to keep him safe. Every instinct she had was screaming that he was in danger . . . deadly danger . . . the kind that could get him killed. That thought triggered another memory and she suddenly thought of the night they first made love . . . remembered the instant she had looked up at him and realized just how deep her love for him really was . . . remembered asking him when he first knew that he loved her. And she remembered his face and those words . . . 'when you died'. Abruptly, she found herself shaking so hard she could barely stay upright in the chair. I can't lose him, she cried to herself. Please God, I can't lose him . . . I'll do anything you ask . . . She wrapped her arms around her body and leaned forward until her forehead rested on the table.

Suddenly she felt a warm hand on her shoulder and she jerked upright to see Kefira standing beside her. The ruby around her neck glowed with reflected light as she grasped it in her other hand. The ruby's fire kindled in her eyes and strength seemed to flow from her as she said fiercely, "They will survive. I know it!"

"You sound so certain . . ."

"I am. I can sense it." Kefira's conviction washed through Jessie, buoying her and filling her very soul. Fear fled before it, and she looked up at the other young woman as a responding fire ignited inside of her. Then Jessie saw the stubborn set of her mouth and uneasiness touched her. Her feeling was confirmed when Kefira added, "I am going to make sure of it."

Jessie looked at her with misgiving. "How do you plan on doing that?"

"I am going with them. I will get a ticket when we get to the airport."

"Hadji's not gonna like that."

"I do not care. He is my husband and I will not allow him to face this alone."

Jessie looked at the other girl for a long moment. Then she said softly, "I have a better idea."

Kefira eyed Jessie warily. "What?"

"Hadji is right . . . you do need some time to rest and recover." Jessie waved Kefira's forming protest aside. "Let them try their initial foray and see if they can calm the situation. If they can't . . . well, I have some things in the works that I could really use your help with."

"What kind of things?"

Jessie shot a quick glance up the hallway as the light in the guest room went out. Lowering her voice, she said swiftly. "I think you'll get the idea tonight. Will you trust me for a couple of days?"

The sound of Jonny and Hadji's voices and the flash as the last light at the end of the hallway went out forced her to a decision. She nodded once. "For a few days only," she hissed in warning.

"If they aren't out by Sunday, then we're going in," Jessie promised. Then she stood and looked at Kefira closely. "We may be in for some physical activity tonight. Are you sure you're up to it?"

Kefira nodded. "I am fine."

"Okay, then. Come on, let's see about giving them the tools that will help keep them safe until we can get to them!"

She was pulling jackets out of the closet for herself and Kefira as Jonny and Hadji reentered the room. Looking at them, she said, "Are you ready?" Both of them nodded silently. "Then we're going to leave . . . quietly. As far as I know, we haven't been spotted, but it's vital that we be sure. So we aren't going to use the front door."

"The roof?" Jonny suggested quietly.

She nodded. "My thought exactly. Let's go."

Leading the way, they slipped out the door and down the long hallway toward the storage areas. Passing those, they went to the far end of the hall. When the corridor ended, they all stopped and Jonny set his luggage down. Catching Jessie around the hips, he lifted her with ease, allowing her to grab a recessed handle in the ceiling. It was so well disguised, that if you hadn't known it was there, it might never have been found. Jessie pulled sharply on the handle, and Jonny stepped back, carrying her with him, as the door in the ceiling opened out and a wooden, collapsible staircase unfolded to the floor.

"That is handy," Kefira observed admiringly.

Jonny grinned tightly. "The woman who owned this house was a bit of an eccentric. She must have spent a small fortune having various access portals and doors installed. Come on, let's go." Grabbing the luggage once more, Hadji and Kefira followed Jessie up the staircase, emerging into the crisp, cool night air on the roof. Jonny brought up the rear, retracting the staircase and closing the entry behind them. In silence, they crossed the flat roof toward the back of the building. Jessie stopped at the roof edge and looked down. They all heard Hadji's breath catch and Jonny grinned slightly in the dark.

"Still don't like heights much, huh Hadj?" he whispered softly.

"Not particularly," he hissed stiffly in reply.

"Well, hang on, this shouldn't take long." Glancing at Jessie, he questioned softly, "Across or down?"

"Down is easier . . . across is probably safer," she replied, looking at Hadji.

"Across," was Hadji's firm reply.

She nodded once and then began moving quickly. Reaching the far back corner of the roof, she bent down and fumbled with something in the dark. Jonny quickly joined her and in the dim light of a crescent moon, the other two saw them lift a long piece of wood about 4 inches by 4 inches and about 20 feet long. Juggling the heavy, awkward length, they carefully bridged the distance between their apartment building and the one adjacent to it.

"Up and over," Jonny whispered softly to Hadji and Kefira. "Follow Jess."

After a quick scan of the surroundings to be sure everything was quiet, Jessie stepped up onto Jonny's offered knee and leaped agilely to the beam of wood. Confidently, she crossed it and dropped safely to the nearby rooftop. Without hesitation, Kefira followed Jessie's demonstrated passage and leaped down to stand beside her.

"Why do I get the feeling you have done this before?" Hadji asked his brother sourly. Without waiting for an answer, he climbed up and crossed the beam cautiously. Once Hadji had reached the safety of the far side, Jonny picked up his luggage, mounted the improvised bridge, and crossed quickly. Continuing to use the same beam of wood, the four of them crossed three more rooftops in the same fashion. On the fourth building, Jonny carefully tucked the beam into the shadows of an overhang and then they moved to the back side of the building. Hadji stared at the shiny new drainpipe that descended into the darkness of the alley below with resignation, "I do not understand why you seem to have an affinity for clandestine adventures on rooftops," he hissed at Jonny.

"Just lucky, I guess," Jonny replied softly, but Hadji could almost hear him grinning in the darkness. "Any sign of anything suspicious, Jess?"

"Everything's quiet," she whispered. "Okay, down the drainpipe. Hadji, you first. Then Kefira and Jonny. Don't try to take the luggage down with you. I'll drop it over the side once you get on the ground. Wait for me at the bottom."

"Someone will hear," Hadji protested.

"No," Jonny replied softly. "This is a furniture warehouse. They close up at 5:00 and there won't be anyone around at this time of night. Go on . . ." The other three descended quickly and before long, Jessie and the luggage were with them. The four stood in the deep darkness of the alley for a long moment, listening carefully for any indication that their descent had been noticed. Finally, Jonny gestured toward the mouth of the alley and started toward it, but a resisting hand and a tug on his arm stopped him. Turning them in the opposite direction, Jessie led them back a short distance in the direction they had come from, and then darted between two buildings and moved up into the next block.

For the next ten minutes, they all followed her in silence as she steadily worked her way northward between buildings, crossing streets in frantic bursts of speed when no one appeared to be around. They finally stopped alongside a concrete building whose face opened out onto a main thoroughfare. Pulling a key from her pocket, Jessie fit it into the lock of a decayed, scroungy-looking door at the back of the concrete structure. When she turned the knob and shoved the door open, it swung back silently on well-oiled hinges. In the dim light, Jonny and Hadji exchanged astonished looks, then followed her into the blackness. For a moment, Kefira remained in the alley, leaning against the wall. Her head ached miserably and the last several blocks she had suffered from dizziness severe enough that she was concerned she actually might fall. But she couldn't stop. This trip was important. Thrusting herself away from the wall, she followed the others inside.

Once the door was closed and locked, Jessie flipped on a light. Squinting against the sudden brightness, they saw that they had entered a garage. The place felt abandoned, everything in it covered with a thick layer of dust. Everything, that is, except for the gleaming, dark green Jaguar sedan sitting in the center of the room.

Jessie crossed to it swiftly, popping the trunk and unlocking the doors with the remote control she now held. Gesturing toward the car, she commanded, "Throw the luggage in the trunk and let's go." She was in the car with the motor running even before they got the luggage stowed in the back. When the others had gotten into the car, she triggered the automatic garage door opener and pulled out into traffic at the earliest opportunity.

Jonny waited, staring silently out the front windshield until she had negotiated the traffic and gotten onto the freeway before he asked her quietly, "What's going on, Jess? Where were you this afternoon? And who does this car belong to?"

She flicked a swift glance at him before gazing steadily out the front window once more. "The car's a rental . . . leased to a woman by the name of Monica Leveck."

"And who's Monica Leveck?" he prompted.

Jessie sighed softly. "I am." The silence that followed that comment was absolute.

Finally, Jonny replied, "I don't understand." The total lack of emotion in the statement made her flinch.

"About six years ago, something happened to my father," she began. "I don't know what it was. Maybe he was just tired and depressed . . . or maybe something happened that caused him to face his own mortality. I don't know. But whatever it was caused him to start thinking about the future . . . "

"Race always planned ahead," Jonny replied, still in that uninflected tone.

"He started thinking about a future where he was dead." It was her voice that had gone flat this time, and she felt Hadji and Kefira stir uneasily in the back seat. Beside her, Jonny turned to stare at her. Continuing in the same tone, she said, "He began to clean up things . . . tying up loose ends, if you will . . . making sure that if something happened to him, that Mom and I wouldn't be faced with situations we couldn't deal with."

"Agency things," Hadji said quietly from the back seat.

"In part," Jessie acknowledged. "It was in the fall of that year that he suddenly appeared in our house in Colombia, telling Mom that he needed some stuff that had been in boxes in storage when they divorced. Mom was seriously flustered because she thought he had taken everything that belonged to him. I remember they fought about it . . . pretty loudly, too."

"That was right before you began spending a lot of time with us," Jonny observed and they all heard the life returning to his voice.

"She was there before then," Hadji objected.

"Yeah, but not often and she'd never traveled with us. It was Christmas that year when she came for the holidays and stayed well into January. And the following summer, she joined us on that trip to Europe. And from then on, she was there regularly, every couple of months."

The quick look Jessie gave him was surprised. "You remember that Christmas? I didn't think it was all that notable."

"I remember every instant I've ever spent with you," Jonny replied softly.

She had to clear her throat before she could continue. "He took about six boxes that must have been buried in some dark recess of the basement and then left without another word. I know that they corresponded regularly over the next several weeks and the conversations left Mom seriously upset and distracted. I tried to ask her questions, but it was one of the few times when she simply refused to talk to me. Then, out of nowhere, she announced that she had made arrangements for me to go spend the holidays with Dad in Maine." Jessie shook her head. "I was thrilled, but things really hit the fan when Grandmother Velasquez found out. There were several nasty fights between Mom and Grandmother that I overhead. The things Grandmother said about Dad weren't very . . . nice." Somehow, none of them thought that was the word she was actually thinking. "But Mom weathered the storm and didn't back down, and a week before Christmas she put me on a plane and sent me to Maine."

She fell silent for a while, and none of her companions were inclined to push her. Finally, she sighed again and continued, "It was right before I was to return to Colombia that I got up one morning and Dad told me that the two of us were going to take a trip . . . said he needed to go to New York for something and he'd enjoy having me ride shotgun. I remember it surprised me when I discovered that it would just be him and me . . . I expected it to be the three of us going with him."

"I remember that trip now," Hadji commented. "I was surprised that he did not ask us to go along, also."

"So was I," Jonny agreed.

"There was a reason why he didn't," Jessie replied quietly. "I . . . I don't quite know how to explain what he did, but there were certain . . . favors . . . owed to him by other people, and on that trip he more or less notified those people that I could call in those debts if I ever needed to."

"I do not understand . . . " Kefira said hesitantly.

"Race used to be a spy," Jonny replied.

"A covert government agent," Jessie correctly dryly.

He flashed her an impudent grin that sent a wash of warmth coursing through her and said, "That's what I said . . . a spy." Then the grin faded. "And he deliberately drew you into that world? He always swore that he never wanted any of us involved in that . . ."

"I told you that I don't know what happened. All I do know is this . . . for some reason he seemed to feel that it was really important that in an emergency, I should be able to call on the few people in the old network that he ever really trusted for help. So, on that trip, he took me to meet those people." Jonny shivered slightly as he watched her. The headlights from oncoming traffic threw kaleidoscopic patterns of light and dark across her face, making her appear distant and alien. He had seen Race look like that a few times . . . and the memories it evoked weren't particularly pleasant ones.

"Who were they?" Kefira asked, fascinated.

"Really? I'll never know. I don't even know names . . . only covers and code names . . . and passwords. Only one of them was an actual, active agent, I think. The others were suppliers."

"Monica Leveck is a cover Race set up for you, then," Hadji said musingly.

"No," Jessie replied with a shake of her head. "Monica Leveck is a cover I set up. Dad knows nothing about it."

"Why?" Jonny asked quietly. "And why didn't you ever tell me about it?"

Jessie sighed softly. "I didn't tell you because it wasn't my secret to tell . . . it was Dad's. Furthermore, I didn't want you in the middle of it. It's a nasty, dangerous game, Jonny. Dad was right to try to keep us out of it. But sometimes, reality just stands up and smacks you in the face. That obviously happened to Dad . . . the way Cairo did with me."

"Cairo?!" Jonny exclaimed and turned toward her abruptly. "What does Cairo have to do with this?"

Jessie stared silently out the front window for a long time. Finally, she said, "I guess Cairo made me realize just how unprepared I really was for crisis situations."

"That wasn't your fault! I was the one . . ."

"Jonny, I can't expect you to take care of me like a child! I was stupid in Cairo. You and Dr. Quest and Dad were all there and I felt safe, so I didn't pay attention. I was sloppy. If Dad wasn't seriously disappointed in me, he should have been! He's taught me better than that." She glanced at him quickly, then reached out and grasped his hand. "We look out for each other. That goes without saying. But we also look out for ourselves, as well. That's what I didn't do. And because I didn't, you were hurt terribly . . ."

"Me?!!? I wasn't the one that was hurt . . ."

Jessie grew very still and the pain and guilt in the look she flashed him was almost more than he could bear. "Yes, you were," she finally whispered. "Physical injuries are easy to recover from, but the scars . . . the emotional scars you were left with are so deep, I don't know if they'll ever fully heal." She shivered slightly. "What happened to you at Christmas terrified me, Jonny. You say Cairo was your fault because you couldn't protect me. I disagree. I say it was my fault for not being more careful." She let that hang for a moment, then seemed to gather herself before continuing. "But that's not really the point any longer. The point is that we have to learn from our mistakes. And I have. When we moved away from the Compound in May, we lost much of our security. Our biggest safety net was the fact that we kept a low profile and that most people didn't realize who we were. But I knew that it couldn't last. So, I made up my mind that I wasn't going to be unprepared this time. If something ever happened that required that we had to move quickly or be able to protect ourselves, I was going to be ready. So Monica Leveck was born."

"Who is Monica Leveck?"

"She is the 35-year-old wife of a very wealthy, older French businessman who lives in Florida. She flits all over the world, she's very much into art . . . particularly sculpture, which her husband, Anton, adores . . . and she supports a whole raft of obscure charities."

"But how . . ." Jonny began

"It's all lies . . . carefully crafted lies, but lies all the same. If you go to Florida and try to find Anton and Monica, you won't be able to. Locals will tell you stories, but locations are always vague. Their financial status seems to exist . . . but only in the netherworld of the electronic. Monica is the only one who has actually been seen, and she comes and goes unexpectedly . . . buying and selling antiques, artifacts and artwork. She is known in galleries and auction houses all up and down the Eastern seaboard and in the larger cities like Boston, Washington, D.C., Charlotte . . ."

"Anywhere you can easily reach from here," Hadji commented.

"Yes. Certain owners of galleries or banking institutions have met her and consider her an outstanding customer . . . even though she rarely, if ever, buys anything."

"How did you do that?" Kefira demanded, fascinated by the idea of the fabrication of lies that Jessie had managed to weave.

Jess shrugged in response. "Attitude, the wonders of the electronic age, and a few selective purchases here and there that were turned around and sold again very quickly to ensure that the cash flow covered the original purchase. I was also able to serve as an intermediary between buyers who wished to stay anonymous a few times, so it actually did appear that I was buying."

"How many of the people you dealt with actually knew that Monica Leveck and Jessica Bannon were the same person?" Jonny asked.

"No one . . . until today. Today, all of the time and effort at setting up this cover paid off."

"Who are we going to see? Who is Jean-Paul?" There was a long, protracted silence in the car and finally Jonny said, "Jess?"

She took a deep breath and then said softly, "Forgive me, love, but I can't tell you. It will have to be enough that he is a man that can provide you with certain items you are liable to need that we can't simply walk into a store and buy."

Hadji and Kefira exchanged a concerned look.

Jonny was silent for a long time. Finally, he asked, "You trust this man?"

"My father trusted him. That's enough for me."

"All right. I understand that you do what you have to do. I don't like it, but I can respect it." There was no doubt that those words were hard for Jonny. They could all hear it. But it was a testament to how much both Jonny and Jessie had grown that she could ask it of him . . . and that he could grant it. Jonny released a long breath and asked, "So what happens now?"

"We're going to meet the man known as Jean-Paul. I ask that you all follow my lead and let me do the talking. Don't interrupt, take what he gives you without question, and do what he asks. And above all, whatever you think, don't object. Clear?" Murmured assent from all of them caused her to nod.

Jessie had been watching her rear view mirror carefully for some time. Jonny caught a sudden frown wrinkle her brow. "Problem?" he asked her, tensing.

"There's a car back there . . . I don't know. Maybe I'm just jumpy . . ."

"If you're jumpy, there's a problem," Jonny replied with conviction. "How close are we to our rendezvous point?"

"A whole lot closer than I'm comfortable with. Is everyone belted in?" The chorused affirmative made her nod grimly once more. "We should be getting off here, but we're not going to. Let's find out if he's really interested in us . . ." She accelerated sharply, and began darting through traffic.

Hadji twisted around to peer out the back window. "What kind of car?"

"Dark, four-door sedan," she replied. "Import of some sort, but he never got close enough to tell make or model."

"Is he still there?" Jonny questioned, after a few harrowing minutes of blurred lights and car horns.

"Oh, yeah," she replied, her face hard and determined now. "Definitely following and making a serious effort to catch us now. Hold on . . ."

From the far inside lane, she jerked the wheel sharply, cutting across two lanes of traffic. Then she applied the brakes for a brief instant, allowing a car on her right to pass, and then accelerated sharply once more, hitting the exit ramp still doing close to 90 mph. Just as they dropped down off the elevated roadway, they saw a dark BMW sedan flash past, unable to duplicate the move and make the exit. Brakes squalled as Jessie desperately tried to slow the speeding vehicle for the rapidly approaching light at the bottom of the ramp. Knowing there was no way she would be able to stop, she leaned on the horn briefly and then shot through the red light into the intersection. Luckily, there was no stopped traffic in this relatively deserted area. She yanked hard on the steering wheel throwing the careening vehicle into a power slide. It yawed widely through the intersection, skittering precariously as two wheels came up off the pavement. Then, it clipped the far curb, dropped back onto four wheels and Jessie accelerated hard away from the light. Turning almost immediately, she began darting through the rapidly narrowing, dingy streets, until suddenly, she killed the lights and darted into a dark alley between two large warehouses. There she stopped and for the first time the four of them had the chance to catch their breath.

After a moment, Jonny grinned in the dark and said, "Very nice. That rivaled some of our power sled races in Questworld."

Jessie snorted softly, watching the entrance to the alley carefully for any sign of their pursuers.

"Do you know where we are?" Hadji asked.

"Not precisely," Jessie replied, "but our rendezvous point can't be too far away. We're down in the warehouse district along the Boston Harbor docks. We're to meet the man in a warehouse along here. I've got the address . . . it's just a question of finding the place."

"How are we doing on time?"

Jessie checked her watch. "We're late. We really can't afford to sit here and wait very long."

"Can we leave the car here?" Kefira asked. "This area seems pretty deserted. If we back the car a bit further into the alley it is unlikely to be spotted. If our pursuers are searching for us in this car, we may be able to avoid them more easily on foot."

"It will make us even later, but it might be better," Jessie replied. "What do you guys think?"

"It seems reasonable to me," Hadji agreed.

"Me, too," Jonny said. "Your call, though."

Jessie nodded. "On foot it is. Let's move."

She backed the car more deeply into the alleyway, and then they all slipped out into the darkness. Jessie was the last to leave, working at something up under the dashboard with a small flashlight before locking the door and moving to join the others.

Jonny gave her a questioning look. Grinning, she held up a small two-pronged part. "Fuel pump fuse. Car may be stripped when we get back, but it's not going to get heisted!" Then, looking around carefully, Jessie led the way out of the alley and began moving up the street at a swift, yet cautious, pace. After about two blocks, Jessie sighed in relief.

"I know where we are," she said softly, "We've still got some distance to cover, but it could be worse. Come on, let's take to some less obvious paths. Following her, they once again slipped into alleys, working their way closer and closer to the docks. Finally, she called a halt, peering out at a warehouse that fronted the water across a large open expanse of tarmac. Suddenly, Jonny felt her looking at him and when he looked down, he could just see her grinning in the poor light.

"What?" he asked.

"If you have an affinity for rooftops . . . I seem to have one for waterfront warehouses!" She could hear Jonny's soft chuckle. Leaning down, he kissed her.

"God, I love you," he breathed into her ear.

Her only reply was another darting kiss, a quick caress, and a whispered, "Wait here . . ." Then she was gone.

From the shelter of the alley, the three of them watched as a dark shadow flitted from one piece of cover to the next until with a single, all out sprint, she crossed about ten feet of open ground and disappeared into the shadows of their destination. After a few endless minutes, the silence was suddenly broken by the high, far off sound of a nighthawk. Jonny turned swiftly and breathed, "That's us. Kefira . . . you first. Follow the same path Jess did. Go quickly but stay out of sight as much as you can. Jess will be waiting." Without hesitation, the young woman nodded and was gone. Jonny was impressed as he searched the shadows for signs of her passage. He didn't see her at all until she broke from cover and made the crossing to the far warehouse. Then she disappeared into shadow once more.

Hadji went next and also made it safely across the open area. Jonny was just about ready to move when a sudden flash of headlights made him stop. Spotting the car moving toward him, he faded back more deeply into the shadows and watched as a dark-colored BMW sedan drove up and parked in front of the warehouse. Two men climbed out of the car, locking it behind them, and knocked on the street-side door of the warehouse. After a brief moment, the door opened and the two men slipped inside. Jonny remained motionless for several minutes, waiting to see if they would reappear. When they didn't, he turned and retreated some distance up the street before making a hasty crossing to the other side. Then he worked his way back to where the others were waiting for him.

When he materialized at Jessie's side, she turned on him in apparent fury. Smacking him silently on the arm, she reached up, yanked his head down, and hissed sharply in his ear, "Where were you???"

Shifting so he could reply in the same fashion, he whispered back, "I think our friends in the black car just arrived." She jerked back in surprise and then, shaking his resisting hand off of her arm, she eased up the side of the building until she could see around the corner. All three of them could see the grim look on her face in the dim illumination of the light above the far door. Jerking her head, Jessie gestured for silence and led the way back along the side of the huge structure toward the waterside of the building. As they neared the docks, Jonny spotted a door in the side of the building. Dim light seeping from the doorframe made its outline visible. Suddenly, Jonny stumbled against something heavy and soft. He would have turned a small penlight on it, but Jessie stopped him. Grabbing his hand, she laid it against her cheek and shook her head sharply. Stepping up to the door she held something up at about face level and they all saw the silhouette of the gun against reflected light from the water nearby. A soft, metallic snick heralded the priming of the weapon. Then, she jerked her head and eased the door open carefully.

A quick look inside showed her that the coast was clear. Gesturing to Jonny and Hadji, she pointed toward the body of the man that was now visible in the wash of light from the doorway. The two young men grabbed him and carried him inside. Jonny inspected him carefully in the dim light of the warehouse. He was of medium height, compactly built, and dressed all in black. As Jonny stared at the man, he felt a shiver work its way up his spine. This man had 'spook' written all over him. Obviously, Jessie had found a guard waiting at the back door to the warehouse and had taken him out before he had the chance to discover and reveal their presence. Jonny breathed a soft sigh of relief when he found the man was alive and in no danger. However, Jonny thought that they didn't want to risk his waking up unexpectedly. Not far from the door, he found a pile of old rope and crating materials. Gesturing at Hadji, the two of them carried the man over to that area, and before long the stranger was bound securely, gagged, and secreted in a dark corner of the building. Then they rejoined their companions.

The warehouse was huge, filled with crates and boxes of all shapes and sizes. The heady aroma of the place said that it was used to ship spices or other fragrant products. Suddenly, they all heard the low murmur of voices. Moving carefully, they skirted the stacks of crates, easing forward toward sound.

"What do you mean, you lost the car?" a voice snapped irritably.

"I mean we lost the car. Somehow, she must have spotted us." They peered around a stack of crates and saw two men facing a third not far from an office. All three men were dressed in black and they were all armed. Jessie didn't recognize the first two men, but the third was a face she knew . . . Jean-Paul. But this was a substantially different man than the slightly foppish individual she was accustomed to dealing with.

"You're sure it was her driving?"

"How the hell should I know? You told me what she was driving. That's what I spotted. The windows of the car were darkened so I never saw the driver. And from what you told me, it was a crapshoot if I would have recognized her anyway . . . you said either a 35-year-old woman with tawny hair or a young woman who, the last time you saw her, was a 12-year-old redhead. What was I supposed to do with that? I'll tell you this much, though, the move she used . . . if it was her . . . was one only a pro could have executed."

"What about where she came from?"

"I don't know that either. We picked her up on the freeway. For all we know, she could have gotten on anywhere in the metropolitan area."

Jessie gestured at her companions, making a fanning motion with her hands. Tapping Jonny on the chest, she pointed right, she pointed Hadji to the left, and Kefira she gestured to remain where she was. One final gesture very clearly said, follow my lead. The others nodded and quickly faded away into the darkness. Then Jessie focused her attention back on the men.

"Well, shit. It's 10:20. She's late. I don't like this one bit!"

"How long do we wait?"

"As long as it takes."

"Who the hell is she?"

Jean-Paul grunted in frustration. "She's Race Bannon's only child, that's who she is. What's more, judging by the stuff she's asked me for, she's in a load of hot water. And her old man knows nothing about it . . . she flat-out told me that. Do you have any idea what Bannon will do to us if we let anything happen to her?"

"What he will do is not nearly as significant as what I'm likely to do to you right now if you make any wrong moves," the young lady in question said, suddenly seeming to appear out of thin air. All three men whirled and the two that had been following them reached for their guns. "Uh uh uh," she admonished gently, bringing the deadly-looking pistol to bear on the three of them. They all froze. Jessie smiled coldly, moving more fully out into the light as she gestured with the pistol and said, "Better. Now, hands over your head, boys . . . nice and high. I think we'll just get rid of the hardware . . . "

As though she had been summoned, Kefira appeared silently out of the surrounding darkness. Moving past Jessie, she gave the three men a wide berth and came up behind them. Systematically, she searched each man, removing a variety of lethal hardware. Just as Kefira was finishing with the last man, Jessie caught the almost imperceptible shift as the man in the middle tensed, preparing to make some sort of move against the nearby girl. But he never got the chance. Even before Jessie had the chance to shout a warning, Kefira was moving, dropping to a crouch and lashing out with one leg. The move caught her potential attacker totally by surprise and he landed hard on his back, the air exploding out of his lungs in an abrupt cry. Just as quickly he found himself pinned to the floor by a foot planted squarely on his Adam's apple, staring up into the barrel of his own gun.

"Do you really want to die today, my friend?" she asked, her voice dark and rich as velvet. "It can be arranged . . ."

"So you don't stand alone after all," Jean-Paul said, staring hard at the two young women in front of him. In their snuggly fitting black leather pants and jackets, they appeared very deadly indeed.

"How, where, and with whom I stand is none of your affair," she replied, in a tone as cold as the icy green of her eyes. "You are simply contracted to supply certain items." A sudden commotion in the darkness behind and to her right caused everyone to tense, but her quick gesture held all of them in place. After a moment there was silence again. Three heartbeats later, Jonny materialized out of the darkness and dumped the body of a fourth man at her feet. She didn't even bother to look down.

"Any others?" she asked him.

"One more," he replied shortly. "He'll be along in a moment."

As if on cue, Hadji appeared with another man hoisted over his shoulder. "Where do you wish me to put him?"

Jessie's eyes flicked around the space and then she jerked her head toward the office. "In there. Lock 'em in if you can. If not, barricade the door."

"What about our friend from the back door?" Jonny questioned, hoisting the man up off the floor again.

"He's not going to cause us any trouble. Just leave him."

Suddenly Jean-Paul began to chuckle. "Very efficient," he said. "You have made your point, Ms. Bannon. Without a doubt, you are your father's daughter. If you will direct the young lady to allow my associate to get up off the floor, we will proceed to business."

Staring at the man a moment longer, she suddenly relaxed and nodded at Kefira. "Let him up."

Kefira stepped back, still keeping the weapon carefully leveled at her opponent as he rose, rubbing his throat gingerly. She backed away until she stood beside Jessie. By that time, Jonny and Hadji and gotten rid of their burdens as well, and they rejoined the two young women, arranging themselves in a line in front of Jean-Paul. Cordially, he gestured to them to follow, and he led the way toward the back of the warehouse.

Suddenly, Jonny looked around with a frown. "Something isn't right," he said. "This space is wrong."

Jessie looked around sharply, then looked back at him again. "What is it?"

Jonny was staring at the back of the building, which they were paralleling as they moved toward the far corner. "There's no door in this wall . . . but if it's the back wall of the building, it shouldn't be here. From the outside, this warehouse was rectangular. That looks like an exterior wall, but it can't be. The distance is too short compared to the exterior of the building."

"Very good, young man. Not many people have ever caught that difference, and those that have were expecting to find something like that. Were you?"

"No," Jonny replied tersely.

Jean-Paul raised an eyebrow. "Then how . . ."

"He has good depth perception," Jessie said sharply, cutting him off. "We don't have time for this. Let's get it over with."

Nodding succinctly, Jean-Paul moved forward quickly, outdistancing them and reaching a point not far from the corner of the building ahead of everyone else. What he did, no one saw, but suddenly, a gap appeared in the barrier and bright, white light spilled out into the darkness. Leading the way, Jean-Paul stepped through into a space that had been carefully outfitted as a weapons testing room. Dartboard style targets line one wall to their left and directly ahead of them was a waist-high ledge on which a stack of heavy, cardboard targets lay. Four sets of tracks were suspended about seven feet off the floor on an intricate, ceiling-mounted scaffolding that ran from the ledge back to the far wall some 30 yards distant. There were also a host of other targets obviously designed to allow practice with a variety of hand weapons. But after a cursory glance at her surroundings, Jessie's attention focused on a table to the immediate right of the door. Carefully laid out on a padded white cloth was an assortment of weapons.

Jean-Paul gestured an invitation and Jessie moved immediately to the table, closely followed by the others. There were four flat black semi-automatic pistols - three 9 mm Glocks and the requested HK 9 mm - with a single ammunition clip beside each. Next to each gun was a nylon webbed shoulder holster. With a sound of satisfaction, Kefira reached out, picked up the HK, and began to examine it closely. Jean-Paul raised his eyebrows in surprise and then gestured for one of his men to mount a target on the firing range. The sound of the track kicking into operation caused all of them to look up. Jean-Paul held out a set of ear baffles to Kefira and gestured at the target, which had come to a stop about two thirds of the way down the shooting range. "If you please," he said to her meaningfully.

Kefira looked at Jessie questioningly, who replied dryly. "He won't let you take it unless you can prove to him you can use it."

Kefira's lips twitched as she attempted to suppress a smile. With no warning, she snatched up the ammunition clip, smacked it into place, took two steps away from the table, dropped and somersaulted up into a kneeling position, and took six shots in rapid succession at the target, upward from underneath the firing ledge. The motion was so quick and fluid that no one even had the chance to react before she was finished. Rising neatly to her feet, she walked the added five feet over to the ledge and smacked the recall button for the target. As the target moved slowly back toward them they could all see the enlarged hole right over the heart of the man-shaped target. There was only one.

"Nice weapon," she said to Jean-Paul, as she passed him on the way back to the table to look at the other items. The man cleared his throat with difficulty.

Jessie looked at Jonny and Hadji and said quietly, "Take the pistols over to the target range and get used to them. We'll go over the other stuff after you're comfortable with the guns." Her expression warned them not to protest. Both young men nodded and did as they were directed. Meanwhile, Kefira began inspecting the various knives spread out on the table.

Gesturing at the two men from the car, Jean-Paul added, "They will drill you in the use of everything on the table. You don't leave here until I know you can handle them." Then, as the noise of gunfire filled the room, Jean-Paul gestured at Jessie and the two of them moved a short distance away. They stood for a moment watching the others. Jonny and Hadji worked steadily at the target range with one man behind them as the other worked with Kefira. She was now using the Glock and appeared to be struggling a bit.

Jean-Paul's eyebrow rose in surprise. "The way she handled that HK . . . " Then he shrugged and looked at Jessie. "My apologies, Ms. Bannon. I should have expected that Race's daughter would be head and shoulders above most of the idiots I deal with."

"I learned the hard way a number of years ago that it does not pay to be unprepared, Jean-Paul. Now I make it a point to see that I am. And if you would prefer, you are welcome to call me Jessica."

"Very well. Thank you. I've provided you with an assortment of small weaponry and some added bonuses. There's the standard stuff . . . a variety of knives designed to be secreted in different places, the full-sized handguns, and a couple of the smaller two-shot pistols designed to mount into sleeves. In addition, I've added some small charge explosives that can be hidden on the person, a very handy belt that converts to a grappling hook and line, some throwing stars, and this . . ." He held up what looked to be a fine, flexible wire about 18" in length. Both ends of the length appeared to be slightly thicker and terminated in a rigid U-shape.

Jessie looked at the man coldly. "I told you . . . no garrotes."

Jean-Paul contemplated the wire with a thoughtful smile. "I suppose it could probably be used as a garrote," he said. "But that's not its purpose. Allow me to demonstrate." He led her over to a scaffolding setting against one wall. It was constructed of heavy-gauge metal tubing about 1/2 inch thick. Jean-Paul walked up to it, grasped the two handles attached to the wire and snapped it sharply. Then he flicked the wire around one of the metal tubes and wrapped the wire around one of the bars and pulled it taut. A sharp hiss and an acrid odor suddenly filled the room and in the next instant, the wire snapped free and the scaffolding slumped precariously. Jean-Paul bowed slightly as he held it out for Jessie's inspection.

Carefully, Jessie took it from him and inspected it closely. "Interesting," she commented after a moment. "Slightly serrated and loaded with what . . . hydrochloric acid?"

He shook his head. "A particularly corrosive variety of sulfuric acid. The wire is actually two finely serrated pieces of flexible, tempered steel that are coated with an inert form the acid. When it is snapped sharply and then wrapped around an object, friction generated by the movement of the two pieces against each other generates heat, which releases the corrosive agent."

"Reusable?"

"Yes, but each time, the corrosive become weaker. It's generally not good for more than three or four uses before it's exhausted. You've also got to be careful about fumes in an enclosed space."

Jessie nodded. "Noted." She inspected the device closely once more and then smiled grimly. "Yes, I can see where this might be extremely useful." A sharp thump caused both of them to look up. Kefira and Hadji were now standing together while another man demonstrated throwing technique with one of the knives. They watched as Kefira walked over and pulled a knife out of the wall just below the target. Walking back to where the two men were standing, she laid the knife flat on her hand as though weighing the balance. Then she caught it by the blade, turned, and threw the knife swiftly. It sailed through the air and embedded deeply about two inches below the center of the target. The agent nodded and then gestured to Hadji to try.

"A very deadly lady," Jean-Paul observed. "I don't believe I'd want to be on her bad side." Then a frown furrowed his brow. "I know him," he murmured softly, staring hard at Hadji. "Where have I seen that face?"

"What about the other items?" Jessie demanded swiftly, diverting his attention from the Indian couple.

He focused on her once more. "I should have it all by late tomorrow night, but it will take me another day to get it here to Boston."

"Would delivery be easier if it was done in New York?"

He contemplated her for a moment. "Yes," he replied.

"Then I'll take delivery in New York. Will Saturday night do?"

"I can make that. Where?"

"La Guardia Airport, hanger 2317. I also want to add something to the order. I need a couple of hand-held missile launchers with about 20 rounds each."

Jean-Paul swore sharply. "What are you trying to do, girl? Where is all of this stuff going? Your father is going to kill me . . ."

"My father will be nothing but grateful to you if it turns out that I actually have to use this stuff," she replied. Then, for the first time, he saw that glacial countenance thaw slightly and her smile actually seemed to reach her eyes briefly. "Believe me, Jean-Paul, I'm not going to use any of it if I don't have to. And if I'm really lucky, in a couple of weeks I might even contact you to see if you're in the market to take it all back." Then she looked at her watch. "We're almost out of time. Let's get them outfitted and then we have to go." Turning from him, Jessie gestured the other three back over to the arms table and twenty minutes later, the four of them slipped out of the building into the dark streets once more.

As they carefully made their way back to the waiting car, Jessie noticed that Kefira seemed to be lagging behind. Just as she turned to say something, the other girl staggered into the nearby alley wall. Jessie reached out swiftly and caught her arm, demanding softly, "Are you okay?"

Kefira smiled warmly, as the four of them stepped out of the alley into a brightly lit street. The deep shadows around her eyes showed prominently in the harsh yellow glare of the sodium lights. "I am fine, my friend. I am just . . . a little . . ." Suddenly, her eyelids fluttered and she started to slump to the ground.

"Hadji!" Jessie hissed frantically as she caught the young woman against her. Almost before she finished forming his name, he was there, scooping Kefira up into his arms with a panicked look on his face.

"Kefira??" His voice held a frantic note that Jessie and Jonny had never heard before. "My love, answer me!"

She quickly roused and smiled up at him ruefully. "I . . . I am all right, beloved. I believe I am just a bit more tired than I had thought."

He whispered her name and hugged her to him even more tightly. "You should not be out here . . . you should still be resting . . ."

Jessie looked at her friend with concern and a good dose of guilt. "Kefira, I am so sorry . . . I should have realized . . ."

Kefira cut her off, "No, my friend, it is not your fault. I felt fine . . ." She looked from her friend to her husband and back again. "Truly . . . and I am fine . . . just a little tired." Then she grinned up at Hadji, and he could see that the fire had returned to her eyes. "Now, if you would just set me dow-"

"No!" all three chorused.

Kefira frowned at each one of them, in turn. "I am not helpless! I can walk . . ."

"You almost fainted!" Hadji exclaimed, his voice still edgy and tinged with fear.

Jonny and Jessie exchanged a brief look, then Jonny suggested, "How about this? Let Hadji carry you to the car," he grinned at her a bit impishly, "if only to pacify him . . ." Kefira chuckled as Hadji made a sound of protest. "You can rest on the ride to Logan and then we'll let you come out to the gate to see us off. Okay?"

"And you must then let Jessie take you home to rest for the next few days," Hadji added quickly.

Kefira looked up at her husband and nodded reluctantly. "Very well. I will do as you say . . . Excellency," she replied, with a bit of mischief dancing in her eyes.

Jonny and Jessie chuckled softly as Hadji just shook his head in exasperation and complained, "I hate it when you do that . . ."

The remainder of the trip back to the car was made quickly and in silence. Once there, Jessie wove her way swiftly back to the freeway and set the fastest speed she dared for the airport. In the back seat, Hadji cradled Kefira to him possessively and for a long time their low, indistinguishable murmurs were the only sounds in the car.

Finally, Jonny broke the silence with a question. "This Jean-Paul . . . do you still trust him?"

"Yes."

"You're sure?"

Jessie reached out and caught his hand, squeezing it tightly. "Jonny, what is it?"

She saw him shake his head sharply. "Nothing."

"Lie," she said softly. "Now is not the time to be doing that. Tell me."

He stared out the front window for a long time before he finally replied, "It was bad enough when he knew you only as Monica Leveck. But now he knows you as Jessie Bannon, too . . ."

"Jonny, he knew me as Jessica Bannon long before he knew Monica Leveck. The only difference now is that he knows that Monica and Jessica are the same person. And my father trusts him. Do you honestly believe that Dad would have taken me to him all those years ago if he didn't? You know how he is about my safety . . . about the safety of all of us. Dad set this up so that if the time ever came when I really needed this kind of help, I could get it. I don't like being faced with the need of accessing it, but I'm grateful it's available."

"Just be careful," he begged her. "It's a dirty business . . . you know that. It's the reason Race got out. Don't get dragged into it over this . . ."

She squeezed his hand hard. "I won't. I swear."

Retrieving her hand, she made the exit off the freeway and into the airport, and before long the four of them had bags checked, were through airport security, and were at the gate waiting for the plane. Kefira clung tightly to Hadji's hand, while Jonny sat slumped in a chair staring out across the taxiway at the planes and Jessie prowled restlessly around the waiting area. None of them seemed to have much to say to each other. As the plane turned and approached the jetway, Jessie came up and stood behind Jonny, laying her hands on his shoulders. He leaned his head back against her stomach and smiled up at her stiffly.

"Well, here we go again."

Jessie tried to smile gaily as she replied, "Why is it that you always get to have all the fun?" But the attempt at humor sounded flat to both of them. Abandoning the effort, she looked deeply into his eyes and stroked his cheek with light fingers as the attendant began call for boarding of the flight. He sighed softly and rose. Drawing her tightly against his side, the two of them walked over to join Hadji and Kefira.

"Guess it's time to go," Jonny said to his brother.

"Yes," Hadji agreed reluctantly. He turned to Kefira once more and although a soft smile graced his lips, his eyes were awash with a torrent of emotions. "You have promised to go home and rest," he reminded her, drawing her against him. She nodded wordlessly, her head resting on his chest. He held her for a moment longer and then pushed her back gently. "You take great care," he warned her softly. "Remember that you can never be certain where our enemies may appear."

"I will remember," she replied, her voice rough and tight. She reached up and caressed his cheek gently. "Go with God, beloved . . . and be well."

He nodded, swallowing around the lump that had formed in his throat. For an endless moment, their gazes locked, and countless words seem to flow unspoken between them. But, at last, he cupped her face in his hands, leaned down, and in the instant before their lips met in a tender kiss, he whispered for her ears alone, "I love you."

Averting her eyes, Jessie looked at Jonny. "You call us," she told him firmly. "Every day. Every day, you understand. You know the check-in schedule. Use it. I want to--"

Jonny laid his fingers over her lips, stilling her words. "We'll be careful," he told her. "And I promise we'll check in. It's one thing to stir up trouble when Hadji's away from Bangalore, but you know the way he can be. He'll put an end to this quickly enough, and we'll be back before you know it."

"Of course you will," she replied, putting on a brave front, but the effect was spoiled when her voice cracked on the last word. Abruptly, she flung herself into his arms, clinging to him fiercely. "You come back to me, Quest, you hear me?" she demanded in an intense voice that was blurred by the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. "I need you."

Jonny buried his face in her hair and held her tightly for a long moment. Finally, he tilted her head back and kissed her deeply one last time and then stepped away. "Take care, love. We'll be home as soon as we can."

And with one final look at the two young women they were leaving behind, Jonny and Hadji turned and boarded the plane for London.