--16--

i

Mandy waited in the pouring rain as Billy Melrose tugged open the door of the big, white van. Dashing forward, she found herself face-to-face with the barrel of Francine Desmond's pearl-handled revolver.

"Aman . . . Mandy!" Her face whitened as she looked beyond her to Billy. "What the . . .?"

"Stand down and let us inside," Billy ordered gruffly. "In case you haven't noticed, it's wet out here."

"Oh, we've noticed, all right." She heaved a long breath as she re-holstered her gun. "You took a pretty big chance coming here unannounced, Billy," Francine's said, as she helped them both climb inside. "I'd hate to have to explain to Jeannie why someone on our own team shot you."

"We came in on foot for obvious reasons," Billy explained, while Mandy stood by, shivering. "When I couldn't contact you, I assumed you'd pick us up on the radar."

"We're having a little problem in that area." She jerked her head at Leatherneck, who had stretched out on the floor of the van to better access the inner workings of the com unit. "We've lost communication with the extraction team."

"Lee . . .?" Mandy's voice rasped.

"He's okay," Francine assured her. "He made it inside. That's when we lost touch. We think the team can still communicate with each other. They just can't reach . . . well, us."

Billy frowned. "So we have no way of knowing what's going down in there."

"No, sir, we don't." Leatherneck's voice drifted up from the floor. "But if I can just get this blasted thing working again . . . damn it . . ." The rest of his sentence was lost in a hail of expletives he didn't even try to curtail.

"I have a feeling it may not be the weather that's causing your communication problems," Billy murmured darkly. "I have reason to believe this mission is compromised."

"I agree," muttered Leatherneck. "This whole thing stinks of a setup."

Francine frowned. "Should we call in back-up?"

Billy shook his head. "A frontal assault has never been an option. The extraction team knew that. They're on their own."

"What about the med-evac units?" Francine asked as Leatherneck pressed his lips together.

"On the ready." Billy sighed. "There's a chopper standing by, too. Just in case."

Mandy shivered again, watching the rivulets of water form neat puddles at her feet. "Do you think it was a good idea to bring her here?" she heard Francine ask Billy.

"If I hadn't, she had every intention of coming on her own."

"But she doesn't remember—"

"I don't know about that. On some level, I think she does. Look how she reacted when Brimstone attacked her house in Michigan. Under the right set of circumstance . . ." He sighed. "Remember, I've had some personal experience with Thornton's Repression. The memories are there, they just haven't reached her conscious mind yet."

"You're taking a pretty big chance, Billy. I hope it doesn't blow up in your face. When Dr. Smyth hears about it, there'll be hell to pay."

"At this point in the game, Francine, it's all a crap shoot. As for Dr. Smyth, he'd be hard-pressed to make trouble for me now. And if he does, well . . ." He shrugged. "Jeannie's been after me to retire for some time."

Francine grimaced. "If this goes sour, she may well get her wish."

Mandy cleared her throat suddenly, pulling herself up to her full height as she glared at Francine and Billy. "I really wish you two would stop talking about me as if I wasn't here, sir. It's very rude."

Francine rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Leatherneck, while Billy shook his head. "You're right, Mandy. I'm sorry—Jeannie always tells me that I block out everything and everybody when I'm worried."

"Yes, sir. I'm worried, too."

Turning away, she let out a deep sigh. Every muscle in her body was screaming for activity, but unfortunately the van's cramped command center didn't lend itself to pacing. Her other choices were limited as well—either sit quietly in one of the seats or stand stiffly behind Francine. The blonde agent's put-upon groan told her exactly which option she'd prefer.

Slipping into the passenger seat, she peered out the front windshield into the night. Though the torrential rainfall had now slowed to a steady patter, it did nothing to relieve Mandy's frame of mind. Her nerves were twisted into knots that would rival the most well-executed killick hitch.

As Billy and Francine spoke behind her in hushed tones, she studied the darkness. She supposed she should be concerned about what they were saying, but this place held far more interest for her at the moment. The old factory loomed above her, a hulking shadow overpowering everything else. Beyond it lay the sulfur spring, its distinctive odor giving it away, and beyond that, the river whose banks were swollen by the rain. She didn't need to see it to know it was there. She'd been here before; that other night, five long years ago, with Scarecrow. Billy was right; the memories were there, tantalizingly close, but just out of reach of her spinning mind.

She swallowed hard and turned from the window. "Shouldn't we have heard something from Lee by now?"

"It's only been a few minutes," Francine said, evidently not over her fit of pique. "Right now, all we can do is watch and wait."

Watch and wait . . . The words burned into her mind, agonizingly familiar. Had Lee said the same thing to her that night as well? Closing her eyes, she struggled to recollect the snippet of memory that teased her mind. It was so close . . .

"Stay in the car while I take a closer look."

"You shouldn't go in there alone. I have a bad feeling about this."

A loud, pent up groan, followed by a quick kiss. "Stay in the car, Amanda, and watch my back." A large hand patted her stomach. "It's safer that way."

"Lee, don't go. I have a bad feeling about this . . ."

The words faded, and she rubbed her aching temples. "I have a bad feeling about this," she repeated, out loud this time.

"All respect for your 'feelings' aside," Francine grumbled, "the team knows their job. Give them a chance to do it."

"Mr. Melrose . . . Billy—"

"She's right, Mandy." His voice was stern. "All we can do now is to watch the perimeter and wait for them to give us a sign. Going in now could compromise them even more."

Watch and wait . . .

Her head pounded. She shook herself lightly, trying to impose a control over her emotions that she didn't feel. She tried to picture Annie's face in her mind, as she'd been doing all day, but instead she saw two little boys. One of them held a music box, a remorseful look on his face as he tried to convince her that he hadn't broken it, he really had found it that way . . .

She drew a shaky breath. "Lee," she whispered, longing for the strong arms that had guided her through her panic earlier in the day. "What's happening to me?"

"Watch and wait, Amanda."The words echoed in her mind. "Watch and wait."

"Billy, something's going down."

Francine's voice sounded low and even, the consummate professional. Mandy stuffed her panic down deep inside and forced herself to behave likewise. "What is it, Francine?" she asked, her voice surprisingly calm.

Francine jerked her head, indicating the small radar screen Leatherneck had up and running once again. "See for yourself. Someone's coming."

ii

Every nerve on fire, Scarecrow hobbled down the hallway. Time was running out; he could almost feel the minutes turn to seconds as they counted down on his internal clock. If he didn't find them soon, would it be better to abandon the search or wait inside the factory for the inevitable conclusion?

The sudden sound pushed the dark thoughts from his mind. The noise was little more than a scratch of cloth against a wall, but it told him what he needed to know. Someone was in the next corridor . . . hiding or waiting?

He withdrew his semi-automatic, checked the clip then snapped it firmly into place. Nothing. Frowning, he made his way down the hall, hope tugging at the corners of his heart. If it was an adversary, the distinctive noise should have drawn fire . . .

"Phillip!"

Rushing forward, he stopped himself when the boy didn't move. Phillip remained stock still in a doorway, his eyes wide with alarm.

The attack came from behind, but Phillip's body language had already alerted him. Scarecrow tossed his gun away and angled to his left, grasping for the knife strapped to his leg. With Phillip in such close proximity, he couldn't risk getting off a shot. Before he could close his hand around the knife, a powerful arm reached over his shoulder, catching his throat in a hammerlock. Instinctively, he sent his elbow deep into the gut of his attacker.

The man let out a loud "oof" as he released his hold and pulled back, but the reprieve was only momentary. The attacker smashed his right knee into Lee's kidney. Remarkably agile for one so large, the man circled around to lash out again. A second blow caught Lee just below the rib cage, and he fell. The man's foot delivered a swift kick, but Scarecrow quickly regained his equilibrium and blocked the blow. Twisting the man's leg viciously, he toppled the giant and sent him crashing down. A neat blow to the solar plexus paralyzed him, and Scarecrow finished the job with two short chops to the head, rendering his opponent unconscious without missing a beat.

Breathing hard, he struggled to his feet. Phillip stood off to the side, clutching Lee's semi-automatic with shaking hands, a glassy-eyed expression on his face. Lee took a small step forward.

"It's okay, son," he murmured reassuringly. "Everything's okay. Give me the gun."

Phillip moved his mouth but no words came out. Moving cautiously, Lee reached out pried the weapon from the boy's trembling hands. Exhaling deeply, he engaged the safety and re-holstered his weapon. Then he stepped closer and put a hand on Phillip's shoulder. "Are you okay?" he asked, shaking him lightly.

"I t-think so," the boy replied shakily. "Lee . . ."

He pulled him into a hug. "It's okay, Phillip," he said again. "You're going to be just fine."

"Yeah," he said, endeavoring to pull himself together as he drew back. "I sure am glad to see you. When Herman there spotted me, I thought I was a goner for sure."

"Herman?" Frowning, he looked down at the fallen attacker. That's right—he'd seen the guy once before, at the ice cream stand with Amanda. Was that only yesterday?

"Lee," he heard Phillip whisper from somewhere behind him, "I'm really sorry—"

"I know." He pulled himself back into agent-mode with an effort. There would be time later for all the words that so desperately needed to be spoken between Lee and Phillip; Scarecrow couldn't afford them now. "Jamie and Annie—"

"They're okay," Phillip said, for once seeming to understand. "At least, Annie is—I'm not so sure about Jamie. He hit his head really hard when they . . . took us, and he was unconscious for a long time. I didn't want to leave them, Lee," he said, his voice rising, "but he was so dizzy, and Annie was crying, and I didn't know what to do, so Jamie said—"

"Where are they now?" Lee asked, frowning.

"Hiding in an abandoned storeroom, two corridors over. I tried to get out, but Herman was blocking the way. I was afraid if I yelled, they'd hear and—"

"It's okay, I'll find them. But right now I need to get you out of here."

"But—"

"No 'buts,' Phillip. Our extraction team discovered a bomb in this factory, and it's set to blow any minute. The rest of team has already evacuated, and you need to as well. No arguments—"

"But Jamie and Annie—"

"I'll come back for them."

"Lee . . ." Phillip squeezed his arm. "If you take me out of here and then come back, there might not be time enough time. I can—"

"No way, Phillip. I'd never be able to face your mother if I let anything happen to you. Or myself either," he muttered softly.

"I can get out of here on my own. But you've got to get Jamie and Annie. You said it yourself—we don't have time to waste arguing."

As the sharp pain shot through his rib cage, Lee wavered. His physical condition was deteriorating by the minute. The boy had a point—the same one Amanda would very likely make if she were here. He had to find his other children and fast . . . while he still could.

"Okay," he gave a sharp nod, "head back down this hallway, make two right turns, and the next corridor will take you to the exit. There's a white 'Washington Power and Light' van parked behind the factory. Head for it—it's the command center. Get going now, before I change my mind," he said as Phillip hesitated.

"Lee," the boy called back over his shoulder as he dashed down the hall. "Be careful."

"I will, son," he whispered as he sprinted in the opposite direction. He gave a fleeting thought to Herman's large body, still sprawled on the floor. The agent side of him ordered him to double back and make sure the big man was incapacitated, but the father screamed that he needed to find his children. His internal clock ticking loudly again, he moved forward. He could only hope that Herman was out cold.

iii

Arms crisscrossing her chest, Mandy paced beside the big white van. Though the rain had slowed to a drizzle, the falling temperatures took a greater toll than the earlier downpour. She barely heeded either. Her eyes were fixed on the factory door through which the extraction team had exited only a short while ago, straining for any of sight Lee or the children. She didn't know what to hope for—that Phillip, Jamie and Annie really were inside that deathtrap or that they were somewhere else, still in Brimstone's clutches but out of reach of the bomb counting down relentlessly toward explosion. One thing she knew for sure—Lee wouldn't leave that building until he found them. She could well lose all the people she loved tonight, while she stood by, helpless . . .

She could feel Francine's hawk-like eyes following her every movement as she walked restlessly back and forth. Mr. Melrose knew her too well. Anticipating her actions, he'd assigned Agent Desmond to shadow her, promising a fifty-percent reduction in her undercover wardrobe budget if she allowed her charge to slip past her into the factory. Evidently, it was a threat Francine took very seriously.

"That won't bring him any faster," her watchdog remarked as she escalated her brisk walking into a light jog. "Mandy, stop," she said, struggling to keep pace. "It won't do them any good if you keel over. We'll hear something soon."

She paused long enough to shoot Francine a look. "Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of."

"I didn't mean . . ." She let out an exasperated groan. "You know, sometimes you're just as impossible as he is."

"Then let me go in there. Please." She put a soft hand on Francine's arm. "He needs my help."

"Billy's silly threat notwithstanding, Scarecrow would kill me if I let anything happen to you. That man owes me one heck of a shopping trip in Paris, and I intend to be around to collect."

"Shopping trip?"

"Sorry, private joke." Francine smiled sadly. "Just my way of whistling in the dark, I guess. I'm worried, too."

Acknowledging Francine's admission with a nod, Mandy turned her attention back to the factory door. Jamming her hands into the pockets of her jeans, she felt for the ring still nestled there. Its presence comforted her somehow—like a talisman that said everything would turn out for the best. Though arguably their marriage had not been blessed with good luck, it had brought them Annie, safe and alive, against overwhelming odds. That had to count for something.

"How long do you think before the bomb . . ." Mandy couldn't finish the sentence.

Francine shrugged. "Matthews doesn't know for certain. The timing mechanism appeared to be damaged, which is why Lee ordered them not to risk disarming it. There was no way to follow the wires."

"It's the blue one," she murmured absently. "Lee should know that."

"Mandy, he's hardly a demolitions expert—"

"Sorry," she laughed mirthlessly. "I think maybe this time I'm the one who's whistling in the dark."

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I, Francine," she said with a sigh. "That's just the problem."

Turning away, she began to pace again as her eyes restlessly scanned the night.

iv

Lee found the storage room without much difficulty. The muscles of his jaw pulsating, he searched the room with frantic desperation, afraid to call out in case any stray Brimstone agents were nearby yet afraid not to. He breathed deeply, steadily, imposing an iron control. He mustn't let himself think like a father; that would only get them all killed.

His trained agent eyes did another methodical sweep. There were no sounds emanating from the room, other than his own labored breathing. "Jamie?" he called softly, opting for the risk. "Are you here?"

No answer.

Frowning, Scarecrow scanned the room again. Where would the boy be likely to conceal himself and his sister? He wouldn't separate from her, of that he was certain. He shook his head. In a fire, children invariably gravitated toward the closet, but that seemed almost too obvious. Hide in plain sight—that was the first rule an agent learned. But how likely was Jamie to know that?

The answer hit him squarely in the face as he swept the room again. Crossing to the dilapidated box, he knelt and thrust his head inside.

"Jamie, Annie . . . thank God," Lee murmured, no trace of Scarecrow in his voice. "Are you okay?"

His daughter nodded her head as she clutched her brother's inert form, and he took in the situation in one long look. Jamie had obviously passed out from his head injury, terrifying Annie in the process.

"It's okay, honey," he whispered, trying to coax her forward. He was going to need her to come with him willingly if he had any prayer of getting both children out of the building quickly. Scarecrow screamed inside his head that they had no time to waste, but he pushed that voice to the back of his mind for now. "You know who I am, right?" he asked in a soft voice.

She managed a nod as two big tears rolled down her cheeks. "Jamie's daddy?"

A breath caught in his throat. "That's right, Annie. And I'm going to get both of you out of here, okay? Will you come with me, sweetie?"

She flattened herself against the side of the box, her eyes darting from Jamie to Lee uncertainly. "Jamie said we're s'posed to play hide and seek," she whispered in a shaky voice.

"That's right," he told her, his tone low and rhythmic. "But I've found you now, and I'm going to take you to Mommy. But first you have to come out of there so I can check on Jamie." He unhurriedly extended his hand toward the child. "Okay?"

"'K-kay."

She inched forward with painful slowness and timidly put her small hand in his larger one. A part of him wanted to scream at the ludicrousness of it all—that his own daughter should be so frightened of him. He pushed that thought away as well. There would be time to deal with it later, when they were all safe. "That's right, honey," he murmured as she allowed him to pull her from the carton. "Now you wait right here while I get Jamie."

Diving back into the box, he grabbed Jamie's legs and pulled him forward. The boy groaned softly as Lee turned him over and felt for a pulse. It was rapid but steady. Somewhat reassured, he attempted to shake his stepson awake.

"He's sleeping," Annie informed him solemnly from somewhere over his shoulder.

"I know he is, honey, but we need him to wake up so we can all go find Mommy." He focused his attention once more on the unconscious boy. "Come on, Jamie, help me here," he muttered in desperation. Time was running out; he needed the boy at least semi-conscious. "Jamie," he insisted more firmly, "Wake up."

"Lee . . ." Jamie moaned, forcing his eyes open.

"That's right, son. Do you think you can stand?"

He blinked dreamily. "I think so. Annie—"

"She's right here," he reassured Jamie as he helped the boy to his feet. "Phillip's fine, too—he's already outside, waiting for us."

"So dizzy . . ."

Lee caught him as he started to slump, propping him up against a carton. Turning to Annie, he held out his arms. Thankfully, she came to him this time without hesitation. Shifting her weight to one side, he supported Jamie with his other arm. "Hang in there just a little longer, son," he ordered, his voice tinged with urgency. "I need you to walk with me."

v

Mandy could feel the tension building inside her. Though steadfastly silent, she conveyed it in her every movement, in the frenzied darting of her eyes from the factory door to the communications van to Francine, still standing watchful guard at her side. Behind her, the two ambulances Billy had called in stood at the ready, their medical teams on alert, in case the worst happened.

She refused to let her mind travel in that direction. "Come on, Lee," she groaned, "where are you?"

Because she willed it—or in spite of it, she wasn't quite sure—the door burst open. A tall figure bounded across parking lot, closing the distance with each sure step. Lee? No, this man's running was more fluid, effortless. Lee would never move like that, not with his bad leg . . .

"Phillip!" She screamed the word and clutched at Francine. "It's Phillip!"

Her cry brought Billy Melrose to her side, flanked by members of the extraction team. She broke away before they could stop her, propelling herself toward the runner. "Phillip . . ."

"Mom . . ."

Tears in her eyes, Mandy pulled him into a rough embrace. "Thank God you're okay," she murmured as he burrowed into her arms like a little boy. "You are okay, aren't you?" She tenderly fingered the bruise beneath his left eye. "Who did this to—?"

"It's nothing, Mom. I'm okay, really—"

"We've all been so worried. We thought—"

"Mom, we've gotta help Lee. He's still inside, going after Jamie and Annie." Phillip's voice broke, and he choked back a sob. "There's a bomb—"

"I know, sweetheart," she pulled him back into her arms, "I know."

"Mandy." Billy's voice boomed in her ear as he came up beside her. Other agents surrounded them both, forming a human shield. "Let's get you back to the van. Phillip needs medical attention—"

"But, sir, Lee—"

"Let him do his job." Billy's voice was low and intense. "The last thing he needs right now is to have to worry about you, too."

"Billy—"

"No, Mandy." His firm tone brooked no interference. "If I have to, I'll have Francine deliver you back to the Agency, and you can wait this out in a holding cell."

"I can't do anything to help them from there," she murmured absently.

"That's right, you can't. Just stay . . ."

"In the car." Mandy turned away, refusing to meet Billy's eyes. "Yeah, I know the drill."

Too exhausted to pace, she stood off to the side and waited, the seconds ticking by with interminable slowness. Her hair, wet from the rain, fell in stringy strands around her face. She pushed them back, wishing that she had thought to secure them in a ponytail like Francine's. Or a braid—her mother had always preferred braids, repeating every time Amanda had asked that ponytails were for horses . . .

The pain struck her suddenly, sweeping down from her head to her chest to form a tight knot in her stomach. Images crowded into her mind, countless fragmented pictures that made no sense, a slideshow without a commentary. They pummeled her with relentless vigor until Mandy wanted to scream . . .

The sudden commotion drew her clouded eyes to the factory door. This time, there was no mistaking Lee as he emerged, one arm supporting a barely-conscious Jamie, the other gripping a squirming Annie. He stopped when he spotted her, putting Annie down and whispering something in her ear. As the little girl ran forward, he lifted Jamie, hefting him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

A soft cry escaping her lips, Mandy bolted forward to scoop the tiny child up. "Annie," she whispered, her eyes meeting Lee's at a distance over the little girl's shoulder. "Oh, Annie, are you okay?"

"He c-came for us," Annie hiccupped softly. "Jamie said he would."

"You bet he did, sweetheart." Hugging the child to her chest, Mandy ran from the open space, her only thought to get Annie to safety. Drawing in a breath, she filled her nostrils with the sweet scent of her daughter, alive and warm and in her arms once again. "You bet he did."

Turning as she reached the side of the van, she searched the darkness for Lee and Jamie. She caught his gaze again as he made his way slowly across the parking lot, his limp more pronounced from hefting Jamie's added weight. Agents were already on their way to him. Just a few more minutes and she could stretch her arms around her entire family, hug them tight and never let go.

Suddenly she saw it—a blur of motion from someplace behind him, to his right. Her startled eyes grew large as she saw the hulking man with the gun take aim at Lee. Not a stranger's face, but one she knew and recognized . . . Herman Johnstone. As he squeezed the trigger, she snapped out of her trance, the words ripped from her throat . . .

"Lee, look out!"

He dropped to the ground, whether from the force of her voice or the bullet, she couldn't be sure. In slow motion, she saw him crawl to Jamie, covering the boy's body with his.

"Mom . . ."

It was Phillip's voice beside her, filled with a horror she couldn't express. Blindly, she handed Annie to him and started forward. She was vaguely aware of the agents firing, the bullets taking Herman down as he squeezed off another round. She stopped suddenly, frozen in place, unable to make her feet move.

"Lee, look out!" Though the warning was only whispered this time, the words sounded hard and sharp in her head. She felt the jolt of them, a searing pain that drove through her temples to her eyes. "Lee," she called again, from somewhere faraway. "Lee . . ."

The night erupted once more, exploding into flame . . .

The falling rain smacked her face like sharp pellets, but she barely noticed. Gunfire seemed to come from every direction. The noise was magnified in her head, a terrifying, spitting sound she would never forget. As a bullet tore through him and hit her, she felt a stinging pain in her shoulder. He pulled himself to his feet and lunged back toward her, trying vainly to shield her body with his. A second bullet found its mark; he crumpled to the ground, his leg twisted beneath him. Time seemed to freeze for a moment then she too collapsed as the burning pain in her thigh finally
registered.

Her eyes met his. She could see the terror in them, mirroring hers. It was supposed to be a simple surveillance—how had it gone sour so quickly? A trap, she thought as her eyes fluttered shut; Brimstone had set a trap, lured them in.

Had the information in that dossier held more significance than she'd originally supposed? She should have brought the papers out sooner, or discussed it with Lee . . . let him decide the best course of action. He'd been in the game longer, after all. Why had she stubbornly insisted that she handle this case on her own?

"Amanda . . . the car."

She tried to do as he asked, but it was no use; the masked men were everywhere. She thought fleetingly of her boys, of the baby that would never be born . . . then those images disappeared as well, replaced by a welcome blackness. Her last conscious thought was of noise . . . deafening noise, as the world exploded in fire, the flames so hot the rain couldn't put them out . . .

"M-m-mommy."

Annie's stuttering wail brought her back to the present. Pushing the mists away, she opened her eyes, saw the smoke and flame. But this time it was the factory that burned, not the Corvette, and she was standing upright, alive and well, her daughter safely beside her in Phillip's arms. This was her reality, not that other night. The ambush, the bullets, the pain . . . it had all happened long, long ago, to another woman . . . to . . . her. With a shuddering breath, the world snapped back into place around her.

Her eyes widened in alarm as she saw the medical teams working frantically to stabilize Jamie and Lee. She started forward, but Francine held her back. "Don't, Mandy." Her friend's voice was hoarse. "You'd only be in their way."

Nodding, she shook off Francine's arms. A few yards away, Herman Johnstone's body sprawled in a heap, taken out by the agent team. How and why he'd been here, at Brimstone's factory, was a puzzle to be pondered later. Her thoughts were focused on Lee and Jamie, and she watched with trembling hands as they were transferred to gurneys and rolled toward waiting ambulances. Jamie, her son . . . Lee, her husband . . .

Stifling a sob, Amanda pulled Phillip and Annie into her arms. "Oh my gosh," she murmured as her shock finally dissipated. "I remember."