Chapter 18

It infuriated Jamie that she couldn't figure out what the Colonel and Doug were up to. She, who knew them best of all, didn't have a clue. She was sure the explosives weren't in the house. But they had to be close enough to the job. They had probably planted several, calculating to the very inch to see how far the destruction would spread. They knew the group was large and that they would be scattered.

So what would she do if she had the same goal? Jamie bit her lip. She would probably place the bombs about the property in different locations to cause as much trouble as possible. The only problem was that you couldn't hide silver coated bombs the scraggly bushes that dotted the property. They would stand out like hairy moles on a face.

And if the Colonel had his troops to pick off the few survivors, he wouldn't want his men near the house. It helped the Colonel to have the cover of dark. It was to his advantage. Any possible cars driving on the highway that night probably wouldn't notice anything unless they happened to drive by during the big explosion—and precious few drove along that road anyway. Despite this, Jamie bet the Colonel would keep his men away from the road. They would hide in the hills behind the property and pick off any survivors with their bullets. Jamie knew how to counter this move.

The one in the most danger would be Bella...and her rescuer. Only one person would have to risk their life for Bella's sake. It was her fault Bella had even been caught in the first place. She should be the one to go. Besides, the other ones had families to care for and families who loved them. She had the least connections and the least to lose.

She finally crawled out of her covers Friday morning after hours of debating. It seemed so silly to go to school after all she had been through. It felt so mundane and pointless. Just tests and workbooks and teachers who had too much perfume on. She felt as though her time would be better spent planning their attack.

Jamie's feet touched the soft carpet. Amber was still snoring softly in the bed next to her futon. A glance at the clock told her that it was still pretty early. It almost would have been easier to cover herself up again and not come out. Jamie doubted Mrs. Carlyle would allow her to do so. Mrs. Carlyle was paid a lot more attention to her moods than the Colonel ever had. Jamie honestly couldn't say that she liked it. She wasn't used to having people meddling in her life.

Jamie moved through Amber's drawers again, searching for an outfit that she could possibly see herself wearing. Porter had dropped Jamie's backpack carrying her clothes in the field that day when Doug had run after them.

Jamie finally slipped into a forest green shirt that hugged to her uncomfortably. She was able to push the thought from her mind better than the first day. It was better when she didn't constantly feel like a deer in the headlights. She slipped into a pair of black dress pants and hurried down the stairs.

The smell of raw steak being prepared reached her nose. Disgust and anticipation fought a battle in her stomach. Jamie had licked her lips before she realized what she was doing. I'm turning into a regular 'wolf, she thought, grimly amused.

"Hello, dear," Mrs. Carlyle responded without turning as Jamie pattered softly into the kitchen. The cool linoleum touched her bare feet as she moved to the blonde woman's side. Mrs. Carlyle had made some spicy sauce and was spreading it over the meat methodically.

"I think I've got an idea," Jamie told her, "about how to fight the Colonel."

So she told the woman every detail, breaking up bits of parsley at Mrs. Carlyle's urging. She finished finally. "So, it's not much of a plan, but it's better than nothing."

"Could you sprinkle the parsley over the meat?" Mrs. Carlyle responded.

Jamie took a handful and spread the leafy bits over their breakfast methodically. Mrs. Carlyle seemed to think about what Jamie had said for a while. Her eyes were faraway and she hummed softly to herself as she dished equal helpings on to each plate. Jamie helped her place the food around the table.

"I like your plan," Mrs. Carlyle said finally, placing a fork beside each plate. "It may not be complete, but it's better than what we've got. There's only one problem with it that I can see."

"And that is?" Jamie asked.

"You," Mrs. Carlyle responded. "I don't want you to go down to the house. We could set up a small group to find Bella."

"But–" Jamie protested.

"No buts," Mrs. Carlyle announced, lifting a finger. "I know you feel responsible. I know you think it's your job to go down there, but we need you to lead the others. You know the Colonel. You know how he fights. And," Mrs. Carlyle lifted her finger again as Jamie attempted to protest once more. She closed her mouth, allowing the woman to finish. "And you've had a lot of experience with tactics and fighting. It's what you were raised with. I feel terrible allowing you to go at all, seeing as you were just shot a couple days ago. You've been through enough as it is. But the plain truth of it is that we need you. I don't know if we can do it without you."

Jamie wanted to protest again. She felt as though she should be the one to help Bella. She had promised the little girl that she would get her out. It was her duty. But the other woman was right. She did know the Colonel the best.

"The other kids will have to stay home, of course," Mrs. Carlyle was going on more to herself than to Jamie.

Jamie bit her lip, trying not to smile. She bet if Amber were near, she would protest at being called a child. If she knew Amber–and the other three–then they just weren't going to sit at home while the parents put themselves in mortal danger. They'd find some way to be there, no matter what.

Jamie decided to include the other four in her tactics right from the beginning. If she did, then she wouldn't have a messy situation when the opportunity presented itself. If everybody didn't act in perfect coordination, then this was going to be one huge disaster. Any battle fought without plans was a disaster.