The blonde pulled the thin sheet around her as she sat up on the wobbly cot.

"You better get dressed, April. That guard will be in here in a minute. You don't want to give him any ideas," Tony called out from the corner of the cell as he finished tying the drawstring around his pants.

"Good idea. I didn't like the way he was leering at me when I got here. How did you get him to let us do this anyhow?" She shimmied into her faded jeans and made quick work of the zipper and snap.

"Oh, Rodney had nothing to do with it. It was that Fed that came to see me yesterday." He lit up the cigarette dangling from his mouth, took a drag and then blew it out slowly. "I don't know what I missed more, having sex or smoking," he mumbled to himself.

"Gee, thanks." She came up behind him and grabbed the cigarette from his fingers and took a puff. "What did that guy want that got you a conjugal visit and two boxes of smokes?"

He nabbed the cigarette back and held it between his lips as he stuffed his shirt tails into his pants. "And don't forget he filled up my commissary fund –"

"Which you already spent most of," she spat out. "Now how're you supposed to call me?"

"It was well spent, believe me. It was just enough to get Rodney to tell me that agent's name and what agency he worked for."

"What does it matter, those government types are all the same." Her voice was muffled as she pulled her sweater over her head.

He rubbed his face, tugging on the thin goatee that he wore. "There's something going on. Why would he care about me and the Weathermen after all these years? And the stuff he was asking . . ." He shook his head. "There's something there." He turned to see her slipping on her boots and pulled her up from the cot. "You know what to do, right?"

"Yes, Tony! You told me twice—"

"And you're sure your cousin can get you the information without it coming back on him or us?"

"Yes! I told you already. He'll just pop this Stetson guy into the computer at work and it'll spit out an address." She rubbed her hands up and down his chest. "I just don't know why we're wasting our time talking about this stiff when we could be—"

"Alright, Caputo. Times up! Time to say goodbye to the lady." The overweight guard ogled the petite blonde as the two said their goodbyes.

"Remember, Baby. Call me as soon as you have something."

"I will, Tony. I'll miss you." She disregarded the young guard and wrapped her arms around Tony and kissed him hard once more before being escorted out of the cell.

"Be good, April," he called out as the cell door clanged shut.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

8:43 a.m. Friday, August 22, 1986

Lee paced the small hotel room as he waited for his call to be transferred. "Come on, come on." His patience had worn thin after getting the runaround from three different offices whom had all very rudely informed him they'd never heard of Marcus Ward. This was the longest he'd be kept on hold, perhaps that was a promising sign.

Ignoring the Muzak blaring in his ear, Lee took a moment to take an inventory of what he had learned in his investigation thus far. 1. Amanda was, in fact an agent with the FBI. 2. She was instrumental in taking down one of the largest and deadliest home-grown terrorist groups. 3. Her handler was Marcus Ward, out of Annapolis. And 4. Amanda was an agent! He shook his head in disbelief. He still couldn't believe it. His Amanda? The woman who despised violence? It just didn't seem real.

The click on the other end of the call caught his attention and he stopped his pacing and held his breath. "Hello? Agent Stetson," queried the young man.

"Yes! I'm here," he responded anxiously.

"I'm sorry, Sir," he hesitated. "I checked as you requested, but everyone in the office all said they didn't know anyone named Ward."

"I'll just bet they did," Lee muttered under his breath. "Thanks for checking," Lee responded dejectedly before hanging up the phone. He scratched off the last remaining telephone number from his list before crumpling the piece of paper up and throwing it in trash can. "Great! Just great!"

Was he ever going to get a straight answer?