Chapter Five

"Get that elephant into the backdoor line-up right now! Lily, where's your costume? Doors open in half an hour. Move it, people!" Lou was in full gaffer mode. "Jana - you find your costume ok?"

"Yeah," Jaime answered.

"You need to be in it, Dear. You're first, right after the opening march."

Jaime ran off to her trailer and was about to throw on her costume when someone stepped out of her bathroom. She nearly screamed, but saw a familiar clown's face, grinning at her. "Don't stop on my account," he told her.

"You just scared me half to death!"

"Sorry. It's my only chance to talk to you before the show starts." His grin faded. "I talked to Oscar this morning, while we were doing a walkabout, and -"

"A what?

"Never mind. I have to make this quick; I'm supposed to be in line-up already," Steve told her. "Oscar had a visit from Jack Hansen this morning. Seems the NSB has its own operative here."

"Who is it?"

"Hansen wasn't feeling cooperative, I guess. We don't know."

"Great. Are they working with us or against us?"

"Don't know that, either. Obviously not 'with', since Hansen's choosing not to share. But against? Couldn't tell ya. Just...be careful, Sweetheart."

"You too, Boffo."

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The clown troupe paraded its way around the Big Top and through the audience, stopping in the center ring to do a few somersaults on the wirewalker's net. Steve was last in line, and as he bounced off the springy ropes, he noticed the edges on one side were almost completely unraveled. If someone were to hit it hard (from up in the air, maybe?) there was no way it would hold. He focused his eye up into the darkness near the ceiling, where Jaime stood on the tiny platform, ready to begin her act. He scanned the wire carefully, not caring at that point if he was being obvious or not. When he caught sight of the far end of the wire, his stomach began doing its own backflips and somersaults.

He stepped off to one side, completely out of the troupe (so fire me, Lou, he thought); she was due to start in just minutes. "Jaime," he said, very softly, "if you can hear me, touch your ponytail." Nothing. She didn't move. The crowd and the music were too loud. Damn!

Thinking quickly, Steve stepped over to the ringmaster's podium. "You need to cut Jana's act," he insisted. "Call out the cats instead."

The ringmaster frowned. "Lou'll have my head on a stake."

"I don't give a damn. Her rigging's torn. Unless you wanna see a wirewalker pancake, call in the next act. I'll deal with Lou."

The ringmaster made a face, but got on his radio to let the lighting crew and the cats' handlers know about the program change. Jaime stood, poised and ready, still in her harness until the act started. Steve ran to the mechanic who controlled her lift. "Bring her down," he ordered.

"What the -?"

"Bring her down - now!"

"I can't just -"

"Well, I can." Steve yanked the rope from the mechanic's hands and started Jaime's descent. At first, she looked frightened, but about halfway down she saw Steve and fear turned to confusion. "Now can you hear me?" Steve whispered as Jaime was slowly lowered to terra firma. This time, she nodded. "Your wire's been cut. We're outta here - Oscar's orders. Meet me at the back gate in 10 minutes." He walked back to where the extremely puzzled mechanic stood, and handed him the rope. "She's all yours," Steve told him, as he ran from the tent.

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Jaime ducked around the back of the huge tent, taking a shortcut to the back gate. She'd chosen not to stop at her trailer; nothing in there seemed important at the moment. She was almost there - she could actually see Steve - when a hand roughly covered her mouth, jerking her backward with the strength of its force, and another hand snaked around her and punched her in the stomach, knocking the breath out of her so she couldn't scream.

"You make one sound, attract attention in any way, and you're dead. Get it?" the voice behind her snarled. Jaime nodded. The hand that had covered her mouth now pressed the cold steel of a gun barrel into her back, while the other arm propelled her toward a small, unused supply trailer. Once they were both inside with the door firmly closed, Jaime was shoved into a chair, where she was face-to-face not only with the gun barrel, but also with her captor.

"Lou? What the hell -?"

"Shut up! I ask the questions." Lou stood directly in front of her, cocked the gun and pressed the barrel to her forehead. "Who are you really?"

"I'm Jana Wasch -" she wasn't allowed to finish.

"Don't lie to me!" Lou shouted, pushing the barrel hard against Jaime's head, hurting her. "The real Jana was never with Ringling. Who are you? FBI? NSB? You will tell me or you will die."

"Who are you?" Jaime asked defiantly.

"I have neither the time or the patience for stupid American guessing games."

I guess that means he's not our NSB guy, Jaime deduced. She wondered if Steve's ten minutes were up yet. This would be the ideal time to come looking for me, Austin...

"I'll make you a deal," Jaime said, trying to stall for time, "you tell me who you are, and I promise I'll tell you anything you wanna know about me."

"I make NO deals! You will not talk? That is your choice?"

Jaime stared at him in silence.

"I'm afraid you are out of time," Lou snarled. "Get up." Jaime didn't move. Lou grabbed her, his fingers digging painfully into her shoulders, yanked her from the chair and forced her to the floor, facing the wall.

Jaime heard the gun firing, but felt no pain, and didn't fall. Am I already dead? She wondered? Wow...that was fast!

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