Despite what Lee had said before the meeting on Friday, things moved slowly with the search for the mole. At some point, the team agreed, they might have to use Matt and Sarah as bait to find the traitor and take out the remaining members of the cartel. The waiting game had continued. By that afternoon, Francine and Rene had no trouble convincing Matt to leave the office early.

"Don't even think about the Agency all weekend, Granger. You're wound up like a top. You'll be no help to the investigation and useless to Sarah if you don't take it down a notch."

Francine's blunt order had resonated with Rene. "She's right, man. Get out of here. I'll see you for dinner. And no shop talk. Okay?"

Now it was Saturday, and Matt had done his best the entire day to put the case from his mind. They had ridden the horses, Pilgrim and Panda, that morning. This time they went for two hours, following the path that ventured up and down the slopes near the creek behind the farm. Allowing the horses to amble along at a leisurely pace, Matt at found the quiet tinkling sound of the trickling stream and the effects of the soft, dappled light filtering through the trees to be relaxing. Afterwards they had brought a picnic lunch to Sarah's—and now Matt's—favorite spot.

Matt sat cross-legged on the rock, looking out across the valley that extended from the ridge above the Stetsons' cabin. Sarah lay with her head in his lap, her eyes closed. He stroked her hair absent-mindedly.

Sarah spoke sleepily. "A penny for your thoughts."

"Your hair is soft."

Sarah laughed. "There has to be more going on in there than that."

"Not much."

Sarah turned her head and opened her eyes so she could look out across the valley. "It was nice getting to know Patti and Rene better last night. Maybe we can have them over to my apartment or yours sometime soon."

"That would be a great idea." Matt hoped it could happen. He forced himself not to think about the cartel.

"Patti and I talked about some things…"

"Yeah?"

"How it's not easy wondering what might happen to Rene. She said something happened not long ago—you both were involved. Rene was pretty worried about you, but she had freaked out about Rene. Mom and Daddy were there."

"Rene was shot, but he was wearing a vest. I thought he'd been killed at first."

Sarah did not say anything for a few minutes. She looked out across the valley, studying the trees, while Matt resumed stroking her hair. "You didn't have to tell me that. Patti didn't give details."

"I had never intended to tell you. This is all highly classified because of who did the shooting."

"It was the cartel, wasn't it? Is that how this started? Are they trying to kill you because of what happened that day?"

"Sarah, you can't tell anyone that we've had this conversation. But I feel that you have a right to know. And I can't conceive of any reason why it would change the outcome of the case or endanger you any further than you are already."

"But why me?"

"Because they play sick games with people. They associated you with me, and figured out who your parents were."

"What did they do to you, Matt?"

"They kicked me around pretty good. I couldn't fight back because they were holding guns on us—but they shot Rene anyway."

"They didn't have guns with them at the church."

"No, not that you could see."

"That's why you've helped with my self-defense and the weight training. So I can fight back."

"Yes."

"Matt, from what Patti said, that was the same day you came to dance class for the first time. Is that true? Did you really come dancing with me that same night? Patti said you'd had a CT scan, it was that bad."

"There was this girl I was falling for. I really needed to impress her. And it was just a few bruises."

"Oh, Matt…" Sarah started to interrupt, but Matt placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Please let me finish. I'm so glad I went Sarah. I told you that at the time, and I meant it. If you think about it, it would have delayed everything with our relationship if I hadn't gone with you that night. Your parents were getting ready to leave town. Before the class, I was ready to break things off—I thought I was causing you to cheat on Jeff. After the class—after you told me that you had broken up with Jeff—I knew I could pursue a relationship with you. And it was important that I had your parents' blessing."

"You mean Daddy's. My mom already knew you were a pretty special guy—she was so happy when we started dating. She told me that when we went shopping the other day." Sarah took the hand that now rested on her shoulder and grasped it in her own. "You've been dealing with this whole cartel thing longer than I have."

"I've had threats before. Not just at the Agency."

"Oh."

Matt pulled Sarah's hand to his face and kissed it. "Listen to the birds. They never stop singing."

"Unless there is danger."

"But only when it's nearby. The rest of the time the predators are out there somewhere, but the birds go on with their lives, singing their songs…"

"Having fun. Riding horses. Today has been so nice."

"Yeah—it has. Do you remember the verse from last week—'God is our refuge and strength…'"

"'…a very present help in trouble.' I memorized that one because I liked it so much. The Psalms are comforting, aren't they?"

"Yes. And Jesus talked about how He cares for even the small sparrow. If God can take care of the birds, Sarah, He can take care of us."

"Yes. I believe that." Sarah was quiet for a minute before she spoke again. "I think I see a couple of trees starting to change. They're over to the west. Around nine o'clock."

Matt hesitated, searching the ridge opposite them until he saw the hints of gold in the midst of the green. "I see them, too. I wonder if we'll have an early winter."

"Maybe. The colors are usually at their peak in late October. It's only the beginning of September."

"We'll have to keep coming back and checking their progress."

"I'd like that. Maybe in a few weeks…"

Matt noted the long shadows reaching towards the rock and stirred. "For today, it's getting late. We should head back to D.C. You get to choose the restaurant."

"And maybe we'll have time for a little dancing?"

"I was hoping so."

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"Diego, you are being too slow to act. We are going to lose our chance. We'll have to find another way to win Gutierrez's trust." Marcelo drained the last of his beer and looked around for his favorite waitress. Frustrated that she had avoided his advances, he was determined to corner her. If I can just get her to the back of the restaurant…

"Marcelo, you are impetuous. The Stetson girl may be distracted with her work, but her lover and her parents are hovering around her like hawks. We wait until they are weary."

"The streets are deserted at night near the museum. It is perfect."

"Yes, and she walks out with several people—always just as he drives up in his fast car. Our chances of grabbing her successfully are too low."

"Diego is right, Marcelo. The girl can run—if we separate her from Granger, all she has to do is get inside the Metro and there will be cops. I was almost arrested the night I chased her."

"Luis, you are just angry that a girl outran you."

"We will get them when they are both alone, away from the car. When the timing is right. I agree with Diego." At the menacing tone of Piedro's voice, the other three men grew silent. "And I will be the one who kills the dog Granger."

Julia Garcia listened through her earpiece, waiting for a break in the conversation. She remembered her earlier argument with Carlos. With things heating up in the case, he had told her it was safer to wait in the van. But she would have none of it. "Carlos, I can do a better job monitoring things from inside the restaurant. I don't trust our equipment." That's the problem with making friends in this line of work. They start coddling you.

Carlos sat in his usual spot in the booth just outside the backroom. Soon the meeting would break up. He needed to leave before they saw him. Carlos took one last swig of his beer and stood, leaving a couple of one hundred peso notes for his meal. Smiling to himself at his generous tip, he knew that Julia would tease him later.

As Carlos made his way to the back exit, Julia passed him. At the sight of her, a sudden feeling of panic nearly overcame him; he considered grabbing her arm and forcing her to leave, but resisted the urge. It was critical that the cartel members not learn who they were.

After taking a roundabout route to the van, Carlos greeted the driver and settled the headphones on his head. He listened for a moment before leaving the van in a rush. "That a- Marcelo is after Julia. Be ready to roll, Ruiz," he tossed over his shoulder.

He felt the bile rise in his throat as he neared the back entrance of the restaurant. He could hear the sounds of a scuffle, and a woman crying out in pain. Julia. He pulled his gun and slipped inside the doorway. His eyes did not have time to adjust to the light as he followed the sounds to a small room nearby. Oblivious to Carlos's approach, Marcelo had pinned Julia to the wall with a knife to her throat, while his other hand pulled at her skirt. Blood trickled from her mouth, and even in the faint light, Carlos could see her blouse was torn. In a sudden rage, Carlos raised the butt of his gun and slammed it against the side of Marcelo's head.

There was no time to comfort Julia. With their cover nearly blown, Carlos knew he had only seconds before the other cartel members might find them. Taking Julia by the arm, he propelled her into the alley and straight to the van, where Ruiz was now gunning the engine.

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Lee ran his hand through his hair and looked over at Matt, who had become increasingly tense and on edge the last few days. Lee could see the signs of strain around his eyes. He reminds me of myself when Amanda was kidnapped by Birol the first time. The poor kid needs a pep talk.

"Lee, were you listening?"

"Sorry, Francine. My mind was elsewhere."

Francine had seen Lee's eyes on Matt. She was fairly certain what had distracted Lee—she had not forgotten about the original Birol kidnapping either and she had been watching Matt, too. She sighed. "No problem. We were just saying that we need to give Rene and Matt an assignment—even if it isn't real. Other than checking on George, they are just performing busy work. The level of secrecy surrounding this case has already created some suspicion. We need to distract the mole. Make him or her think we are not worried about them."

"That's an excellent idea…"

Amanda spoke up. "Why not have them right where they need to be most? Is there some way we could create an additional security need for the opening at the International Spy Museum?"

"Great idea, Amanda." Lee shot an approving glance over to his wife. "We could pretend one of our old enemies has made a threat. Why not step up security for the event?"

"With our luck, there still could be an additional threat, anyway." Francine directed her remarks to Matt and Rene. "Homeland has already set up a team for the opening, but we could request that two of our men work as liaisons."

Matt's hand shot up to interrupt. "Francine, they already know Rene and me there. It might be better if we simply showed up as Sarah's friends. They have a crew of people there working overtime to get the exhibit ready. Of course you could still tell Homeland who we are—but that we are there undercover."

"Sounds like a great idea. As long as Sarah can sell it to her director. Matt, please see what you can set up—start this evening, if you can. For now Rene, could you please give us the latest from George?"

Matt watched as Rene sat up straight and began to speak. He half-listened as his mind went back to their rendezvous with George at the park near the Agency. George had taken the time to change out of his homeless costume and shower. Matt had not seen him cleaned up before. Without his usual hat, George's gray hair was visible and he looked like a stereotypical ex-cop with his clean-shaven face and short hair. Matt noted that despite the older man's age, he appeared to be in prime physical shape. That's probably why he's willing to risk being on his own in the seamier parts of D.C.

"I guess your pretty boy partner is here to stay?"

"Give the guy a break, George. He's put in a few years in this business already. You don't have to treat him like a newbie. Besides, this is personal."

George looked at Matt sharply. "Well then. You might be glad to know I've heard something."

From his vantage point leaning against the back of a bench, Matt glanced around the park and the rooftops of the buildings across the street before taking a couple of steps towards George. "You alerted Rene, so we came. What have you heard? And why were things too 'hot' to meet at our usual spot?"

"So, you do talk." George offered Matt the semblance of a smile before continuing. "I couldn't chance being seen with you two again. Once was probably too many times—three would have been crazy." I heard the name Jorge this morning. There are a few around here, but this one seemed to have out of town connections. He hasn't been seen in a month or two, though."

"How did his name come up?"

"I was in the alley behind the bar where they met last time. The manager stepped outside to take a call—around eleven in the morning. Someone was asking questions. It sounded like they wanted to know if the manager had talked to the feds. He denied it up and down, calling the guy Jorge."

"This is a really big help, George. Thanks." Rene jotted down the name of the bar, and handed the usual bills to George before grabbing Matt's arm and steering him back towards the Agency.

"You realize, Granger, that this is our first decent lead in a while? The person calling that manager could be the mole. We just need the manager's name and we can check his phone records."

In the meeting at the Agency, Matt forced himself to pay attention once again.

"Jamie, here's the name of the bar. This is the same place where they met with the Kazakhs."

As Jamie busied himself on his laptop searching for the name of the manager and accessing his cell phone records, Matt got up from the table. He needed some fresh air. The team had found a conference room on a floor away from the activity of the bullpen and the watchful glances of the other field agents, so he felt safe leaning up against the wall in the hallway. After texting Sarah to ask her about helping with the exhibit, he closed his eyes and thought back to the evening before.

While the dancing had been a welcome physical release from the strain that was constantly weighing upon him, having to make himself appear jovial with their friends had brought back all the tension. Sensing Matt's mood, Sarah had been quiet in the car on the way back to her apartment.

Once inside, she finally confronted Matt. "You've been so on edge this evening. Did I do something wrong?"

Matt ran his hand through his hair and sat down on the couch. "I'm sorry, Sarah. I always love dancing with you—and tonight was no exception. In fact, I probably enjoyed it more than ever."

Sarah sat down beside him. "You held me so tightly. But then you were so distant at the coffee house."

"I guess I have a lot on my mind. I didn't mean to ruin the evening."

"I'm probably the only one that noticed."

Matt looked at Sarah. He wanted so badly to share his frustrations with someone, but he did not want to drag her down with him. He needed to be strong for her.

Sarah put her hand on his face. The simple gesture had been so comforting. "You look like you're carrying the weight of the world. What can I do?"

"Just let me hold you."

Sarah reached for Matt, who pulled her onto his lap. He wrapped his arms tightly around her.

"It's this thing with the cartel, isn't it?"

Matt was silent for a few moments before answering her. "Yes."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I just want to forget about everything for a little while. When I'm holding you, I can do that."

"Remember that His eye is on the sparrow, Matt." Sarah kissed Matt on the cheek before resting her head on his shoulder. He relaxed against the back of the couch as he breathed in the scent of her hair, drawing comfort from the fragrance of roses that seemed to belong uniquely to Sarah—and from her gentle reminder. Matt thought perhaps a half hour went by before he finally forced himself to leave. He had slept better that night than he had in a while. He so badly wanted to leave it all in God's hands. But that was easier said than done.

Matt was startled from his reverie by a light touch on his shoulder.

"A penny for your thoughts."

"You must think I'm one lousy agent, letting you sneak up on me like that."

"That wasn't what you were thinking about. And I've been told by one of the finest agents in the business that I'm an expert at sneaking up on people. Don't feel bad." Lee grinned at Matt and raised his eyebrows.

Matt couldn't help but laugh. "You know, your daughter says that—a penny for your thoughts—a lot. I guess she gets that from you."

"Agent Granger, you are avoiding the question." Lee stood there, looking at Matt expectantly.

"Okay, I give. I was thinking about Sarah. I'm trying to keep things cheerful for her, but I failed miserably after dance class last night. She wants me to talk about things with her. But I'll just give her nightmares. She already has enough of those." Matt looked up at Lee nervously. "From what she tells me."

"Granger, I know you don't spend the night. Give that whole thing a rest."

Matt regarded Lee. He could feel that nagging pain in his stomach forming again. Just tell him, Granger. He turned his face away and blurted out, "I almost wish I could spend the night—at least just be with her. I hate leaving Sarah. I'm afraid it might be the last time we see one another. I have dreams about the cartel grabbing her, hurting her. It's worse since we heard about Agent Garcia. You know I'm a praying man, but I just get so wound up not being able to talk to someone." Matt ran a shaky hand through his hair.

Lee watched Matt's struggle. With a start, he realized he felt a compassion for Matt like a father would for his son. "You don't have to do this alone, Matt. You can talk to Amanda and me. I'm right here."

"You have enough to think about with the investigation. And I can't imagine what it must be like to worry about losing your daughter."

"Yes, you can. If you love Sarah as much as I think you do. I've been there—and so has Amanda. Hell, you saw me go through it with Birol. I had my share of scrapes, too—poor Amanda put up with quite a lot before she even became an agent. You feel like your gut is twisting up into knots, and you just want to relieve nervous tension. But nothing helps."

"I've been crashing around with the weights at five in the morning. But it doesn't make a difference and I'm likely to get a complaint notice from the apartment manager."

Lee chuckled. "I used to drive Billy nuts. He was the section chief back then. He knew I was in love with Amanda before I even did. I broke more rules and yelled at more people over Amanda's safety. Even Francine figured things out—I would get that wound up at any threat of danger towards Amanda."

"How did you learn to deal with it?"

"I'd like to say it all got better when we were married." Lee decided not bring up their honeymoon. "But not really—at first. I had to trust in something bigger than myself to take care of her. And I had to trust that she could fight back when needed—I needed to have faith in her abilities."

"Sarah isn't an agent."

"No. But she has learned how to fight back, thanks to you."

"I simply helped her with some moves. She learned most of what she knows from you."

At that compliment, Lee warmed to the conversation. "And Leatherneck. He taught her some of the fancy driving."

"And she has great instincts. She can tell when I'm in the room, even when I'm not making a sound. And she can sense when something is off—like last week, when she told Amanda the hairs on the back of her neck were standing up."

Lee chuckled. "That may be genetic."

Amanda opened the door to the conference room and looked down the hallway at the two men. "Jamie may have something." She offered Lee a questioning look, then seeming satisfied, went back in the room.

Matt assumed he had missed part of the interchange. "Thanks, Lee."

"Please feel free to talk anytime. And about the agents in Monterrey. You know things may have gotten too hot for Mendez and Garcia, but she's okay—he got to her in time. Even the bug at the restaurant was undisturbed. And Matt…"

Matt had pushed away from the wall and started walking with Lee back to the conference room. He stopped.

"I was wrong before. You should talk with Sarah. She needs to know how you feel. We should not have worried about how she would take all of this. She's stronger than we give her credit for being."

Back in the conference room, Francine, Amanda, Jamie, and Rene were looking over Phillip's shoulder while he typed in information. Phillip looked up. "Lee. Jamie figured out Jorge's number. I'm working on locating his GPS signal. It's been blocked, but I'm close to breaking that code."

Suddenly weary, Matt sank into a chair away from the group. He rested his elbow on the arm of his chair and supported his head with his hand. Amanda walked over to place a hand on his shoulder.

"I've got it!" Phillip clicked a few more buttons and the conference room's screen sprang to life, displaying a map of Washington, D.C. A lone blip was visible not far from the Agency.

"The b-d is right here." Lee sprang out of his chair and started to pace. "Phillip, run a history of that GPS signal."

"I just love this program that Homeland sent over. Give me a second." Phillip worked the keyboard for a few moments. "Here you go—this is the past twenty-four hours, for starters."

Amanda went to the table to pick up her notepad so she could jot down the trail.

Phillip continued. "He was at this same location yesterday. It appears to be an apartment complex. Let me speed up the program."

The group watched as the blip soon moved. "This is four p.m. Now remember, if he took the Metro, we may lose signal until he gets close enough to street level to track him." As expected, the blip disappeared. "Metro stop. Wait—here it is again."

Lee quickly put a hand on Amanda's shoulder and looked over at Matt, who had leaned forward in his chair, his head in his hands.

The blip was in a building across the street from the International Spy Museum.

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Matt and Rene sat at their desks, going over security reviews for the International Spy Museum. After texting back and forth and a quick phone call, Sarah had made arrangements for them to help with the exhibit that evening after the museum closed. The director had been a little dubious, but Sarah had touted their talents and Deb admitted she was desperate for extra hands. No one wanted to work the weekend, and they needed to finish the exhibit by Tuesday so it would be ready for the Wednesday preview by the Smithsonian trustees.

Rene caught Matt's attention. They watched as Lee and Amanda followed Francine into her office. He spoke low, so only Matt could hear. "Something's up, Man. They're meeting alone. They must have left Phillip to make a report on the comings and goings of our friend."

Matt kept an eye on the activity in Francine's office. After receiving a phone call, she spoke to Lee and Amanda. Growing agitated, Lee got up to pace. Amanda rose from her chair and tried to put a hand on his arm. He shook it off, running a hand through his hair. His arms gestured and he appeared to be angry with Francine. Amanda spoke again and Lee stopped. Whatever she said had piqued Francine's interest as well. All three looked over at Matt.

Quickly Matt turned his eyes back to his computer. He glanced at Rene out of the corner of his eye and saw his partner was typing on his phone. He placed the phone on the corner of his desk closest to Matt, the text unsent. Matt could easily read the message. "My money says the cartel is on the move, and they are arguing about using you and Sarah as bait." Rene reached over and deleted the text without sending it, offering a knowing look to Matt before going back to his computer.

Trying unsuccessfully once again to concentrate on his screen, Matt pulled out his phone and typed out a fake text to Rene. "Bug's still active and no word. I think J works here. He's the mole. Let's see Phillip b4 we leave." He put the phone down on his desk. "Rene, take a look at this."

Rene got up to look over Matt's shoulder at his computer. Matt put his hand by his phone.

"You're right, Matt. It's worth looking into. We'll set up a meet with the people in charge. And hey Man, don't forget we have that meeting soon."

Matt replied as he deleted the unsent text. "That's right. Before I go pick up Sarah." He busied himself with the security review once again.

Neither Matt nor Rene noticed the other agent covertly watching their actions from across the room.

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Despite their curiosity, both Matt and Rene waited until the Stetsons left Francine's office before they went to Phillip's department. Ever careful of the mole, they backtracked using another elevator to get to Phillip's office.

Phillip looked up at them as they walked up to his open office door. "I expect you two want a full report. Come in and shut the door." After Matt and Rene complied and sat down, Phillip turned his display so they all could see it. "In a nutshell, the guy stays in this building across from the museum for a few hours but leaves after you pick Sarah up, Matt. That's his pattern for the last several days."

"What about earlier in the day? Where else does he go?" Matt was leaning forward, watching the blip as Phillip sped up its movement. "Okay, that looks like the same location as before—the apartment, right?"

"Yep. It stays there all night. Then, around eight o'clock, it leaves."

Matt and Rene watched as the blip moved out into Georgetown. They spoke simultaneously. "Jorge is the mole. He's at the Agency."

"Is there any chance we made a disconnect somewhere?" Matt looked off into space, not really directing his question to either man.

"Matt, what more do we need? We just need to figure out who it is, now."

Rene looked at Matt. "The chances are slim that George heard incorrectly, and still directed us to a cell phone that would track someone to the Agency."

"Yeah. I guess I just needed a sanity check." Matt stared off into space again for a moment. "You know, Rene. This all started at the op when we first encountered the cartel. Have you ever thought it was strange how no one noticed them sneaking up on us until they heard the commotion over our mics?"

Phillip grew a little defensive. "We didn't have a camera trained on you. We had them trained on the Kazakhs."

"But with all of those agents, someone should have noticed them creeping up on us. Right?" Matt looked first at Rene, then Phillip.

Phillip stared up at the ceiling, musing out loud. "Well, you two were out of sight—along with the other agents. In fact, if I remember correctly, you had to tell Chang to do a better job of hiding. After we figured out the cartel had come after you, Gonzales aimed his camera at your rooftop. We could see the cartel and Rene at that point. Johnson was able to take one of them out with a sniper. It is possible they were crouching when they snuck up on you."

"Which means they knew the other agents were there." Rene stood up and smacked the back of his chair. "God, why didn't anyone question this before?"

Matt put a hand up. "Rene, we figured they had spotted us from the street when we were setting up."

"Not you and me. You get after me—it's your Afghanistan training." At Phillip's questioning look, Rene said, "He was part of an op that went down badly because they were spotted moving in."

"Call it paranoia," Matt explained to Phillip, "but I don't want to get caught like that again."

"So, we always stake out our surveillance spots before we actually do our surveillance. But if we're not in charge…" Rene sat back down.

"Got it. You are at the mercy of your senior agents—most of whom have only worked in non-combat situations." Phillip started typing at his other computer. "I'm going to pull up the footage from that day."

Soon Phillip was playing the recording he had made. Manny Gonzales was the agent doing most of the talking. Although he had seen the footage before, Matt grimaced as he watched the cartel member shoot Rene.

"Notice how Johnson immediately takes out the shooter. Too bad he wasn't an instant sooner." Phillip stopped the playback. "So for the sake of argument, we could say it was Johnson, because he delayed shooting."

"King, I know black guys can have Hispanic names, but I'm not sure he could pull off the Jorge thing. Besides, he reacted pretty quickly. No one expected the guy to really shoot. Even me. The guy might have shot Matt next."

"Scratch him, then. How about Gonzales?"

Matt stood up and paced as he spoke. "These guys were the first ones to come to our aid. In the military, those are the people you trust the most—and at the Agency, I'd like to think it's no different. They had no idea if the cartel would be waiting for them when they got to that stairwell. They just worried about helping us. It was someone else."

"I could start going through photos of the agents and the support personnel, but it would be racial profiling and we don't have evidence." Phillip leaned back in his seat and looked at the other two men. "We'll just have to start looking for clues and hope we find the mole before he makes a move."

"What about the sketch that was made when Jeff came in?"

"We checked it against every known international operative or person of interest except Agency personnel. They guy's face didn't ring a bell, so we didn't think to look." Phillip started typing in commands on his computer.

"The guy had whiskers. He could have been in a disguise." Rene looked over at Matt.

"And worn some kind of prosthesis on his face to alter his appearance—you can cover the edges with fake facial hair." At Rene's look, Matt added, "I know that sounds outlandish, but it's a nice trick for American operatives in Muslim countries."

"I'm not going to ask."

Matt just raised his eyebrows.

"Okay, I've pulled up the artist's sketch, and I'm running a program that can detect facial similarities like eyes and mouths. I'm comparing it to the ID photos for all Agency personnel, including civilians. It's going to take a while. And it's a long shot."

Matt looked at his watch. "Rene, let's go. We can't be late. Sarah had to pull strings to get us on the crew." He looked at Phillip. "You'll let us know? And tell Francine and your parents?"

"I've got it covered. See you tomorrow."