There was a mad scramble. The car screeching to a stop. Doors opening, Joyce spilling out. Nancy. Jonathan. Max. Lucas. Incoherent screams of delight and relief. Joyce snatched Will into her arms and kept him against her chest until he struggled to free himself. She was smiling down at him, but her brown eyes were clouded with worry. The fallen car was hiding the fallen men, but they were still there, somewhere.

"We need to leave. Now!"

Jonathan resisted more than a cursory hug with his brother.

Mike stumbled down the steps and Max ran to him.

"Where's El?" she asked, fearful.

"I need help with her," Mike said.

Jonathan turned to his Mom. "Take the Wheeler car," he said. "Get out of here with Will and the others." He turned to Nancy. She was behind him on the steps. A look towards her brother convinced her he was okay. He wouldn't want a hug.

"I'm with you guys," she said. To Mike; "you okay?"

He nodded. "El's not though…" His sister was pale, and he wondered if she had been hurt. "Are you okay?" She smiled at him, reassuring.

Will handed his mom keys to the Wheeler car. He looked towards Mike, not wanting to abandon him, but he knew his mom wouldn't let him out of her sight again.

"Let's go!" Joyce said. She thumped the horn. "Lucas stood by Will, torn. He watched as Max was turned away by Jonathan and she stumbled back down the steps towards him. There was no reason whey they couldn't all get away safely.

"We can't all fit in one car," Lucas said to Max. "Let Jonathan and Nancy help with El…" Max hated being told what to do. He trod carefully. "This is the car they'll think El is in…" He trailed off. If they left now, it might give the others a chance to get El hidden.

It made sense to Max. She jumped into the back of the Wheeler car with Lucas. Joyce turned over the ignition and allowed herself a moment of relief as her son sat beside her and strapped himself in.

She turned in the dirt and stopped. Then she opened her door and jumped out.

"Just wait," she said and ran towards the Mercedes. She had seen one of the men move. She looked down at their prostrate bodies. One of them had blood trickling from a wound on his head. His eyes were closed. The other one was wincing as he moved. He looked at Joyce and smiled.

Joyce leaned down and snatched away the gun that was just beyond his reach. It felt cold and heavy in her hand. She pointed it at the man and cocked it. The man's blue eyes held hers. He wasn't afraid. He knew she wouldn't kill him. She turned the gun and shot through the window of the car, destroying the comms radio that had been crackling.

She wouldn't kill him, but at least they couldn't call for help. She smiled back at him and ran back to the idling car.

El was walking down the stairs between Mike and Jonathan. Her complexion looked almost grey. Her eyes were closed, and her head was lolling to the side.

"What happened?" Jonathan asked.

Mike shook his head. He didn't understand and couldn't put it into words.

"Has she got her powers back?" Nancy was at the car. She was holding the passenger door open.

Mike nodded. And some, he thought.

Nancy drove. Jonathan was beside her and Mike was in the back with El laying across his lap.

"Let's go," he said.

Nancy put her foot down on the accelerator and followed Joyce. "Where to?" she said.

No one answered.

"He's back," Dustin said. He recognised the black Mercedes, but he didn't recognise the flashy white car that pulled up behind him. A door opened and a woman got out. "It's a woman," he said. He looked at Steve. "What's the betting this one is no saner than the others?"

There was a knock at the door. No one moved.

"Open it," Hopper said. "I trust him…" He swallowed nervously.

Robin went to the door. The thin man bowled in. He smiled awkwardly. "This is Mina," he said by way of introduction. She is putting a lot at risk by being here, so please, no questions. Just let her work."

Mina scowled at the room in general and walked over to Hopper. She had a black bag that she opened on the bedside table.

"You're a doctor?" Steve said incredulously. She was dressed in a short, low-cut, white dress and her dark hair hung in silky waves around her shoulders.

"A doctor who was enjoying a prestigious soiree with the Prince of Andorra."

"I hope I more than made up for it," the thin man said. The woman gave a non-committal grunt in reply.

"What did you do with all the money?" Robin whispered to him.

He gestured to the woman. "She's an expensive doctor," he said.

"Is she involved with those people?"

The thin man nodded. "But let us say, her allegiance is to the person who pays the most." He smiled ruefully. "And she has friends in high places. She will walk out of here and will never breath a word of this. No one will even ask her."

"This man needs a hospital," the woman barked. She stood up. "Some of his wounds are old and infected." She rummaged in her bag and produced a needle. She squirted the contents into the air and then turned back to Hopper. A warm smile transformed her face. "This will take the edge of your pain," she said to him.

"What about Steve?" Dustin said. "He's been shot too."

Mina looked at Steve. "Have you stemmed the bleeding?" she said.

Steve nodded, transfixed by her blue eyes, and more. She offered Steve a brief smile.

"Turn," she said. Steve turned around awkwardly. He felt her cool fingers as she explored his shoulder. "The bullet has gone through. You won't die. Yet." She smiled, brightly. She rummaged in her bag again and produced a bottle of pills. "If it's not hurting now, it will be, and you'll need these." She handed the bottle to Steve.

He took them wordlessly and pain, that had been dormant, suddenly exploded into life. He screwed up his face, feeling like a fraud.

"Take two," Mina said. "Gun shot wounds are painful." She stood up. "This is quite a mess," she said in general.

"What next?" Dustin said. "We need to get out of Alaska."

"Already taken care of," the man said. "Not all the money was spent on the good doctor."

Mina walked over to the thin man. "Ariana is dead," she said. The man nodded. "Did you kill Alana?" she asked. He shook his head, slowly. "Hmm. A mistake, I think." She sighed. "You should leave too." She looked at Robin and smiled and then sighed, as if making her mind up. "Come," she said. "Follow me. I will get you through security at least…"

It had been a bad day. Sergei Prokofiev was bruised, and bleeding and the girl had escaped. They would be held accountable. He got gingerly to his feet and brushed the dust from his clothes. Still lying face down in the dirt was Dimitri. He groaned. He was still alive then.

He rolled his comrade onto this back. He had been lying on his gun. Sergei picked it up. Dimitri groaned again and his eyes flickered open.

"What happened?" he asked.

"The girl happened," Sergei said. He smiled. "You're having a worse day than me," he said.

Dimitri frowned as Sergei raised the gun.

The last thing Dimitri thought before Sergei put a bullet in his brain, was he must not have liked the Rolling Stones.

There was a grinding noise from somewhere close by. The woman listened intently. It was making the ground shake. She smiled. Someone was trying to get to her.

Her colleague, who had refused to ever allow his name to be used, would rue the day he hadn't killed her. Now she would kill him. She licked her lips in anticipation.