As Matt slowly opened his eyes, he noticed a noise unfamiliar to the townhouse. He had heard it before somewhere else. The treadmill. And someone was going fast. It did not make that sound when he walked on it. He felt the familiar stiffness in his chest and shoulder as he got out of bed, but he was relieved that the pain had lessened over the last few days. He looked at the clock. Eight-thirty. He was surprised that he had slept that late. Running a hand through his hair, he went out to the living room.

Sarah was running at a fast pace, her iPod on her arm and her earphones in her ears. Since the treadmill faced away from the hallway, she could not see him.

Hoping not to startle her, Matt walked into her line of sight.

Sarah startled anyway. Matt quickly reached out to steady her, but Sarah grabbed the rails and righted herself. She slowed to a fast walk and took out her earphones.

"I'm sorry I scared you. You sure you're up to running that fast already? How's your head?"

Out of breath, Sarah did not answer immediately. "I'm doing okay. I'm sorry I woke you up."

"It's all right. I slept kind of late."

"You probably needed to catch up—you haven't been sleeping well. I was hoping this thing would not be that noisy. I was getting kind of hungry, so I thought I'd better get my run in so I could eat breakfast. I'll be done soon."

"It seems like you slept well."

"I did last night." Sarah started to increase her speed. "I just need another ten."

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

Later that morning, Matt was catching up on the news when he heard Sarah's cell phone ringing. Since she was in the bathroom, he went to look at the phone. Seeing it was Lee, he answered the call.

"Hi, Lee. Sarah's drying her hair."

"Hi, Matt. Actually, I'm glad you answered. How are you doing?"

"Better today. Not as stiff. Sarah went for a run on the treadmill. I think she's feeling better, too."

"That's good. Listen, how is she really doing?"

"Well, I should let her answer that."

"I came into the Agency today to see how things were going with the search for the mole and Jimenez. Phillip told me that Sarah seemed to be pretty down yesterday."

"It's about her job. I was hoping she'd call you last night, but yesterday was pretty rough." Uncomfortable sharing news that Sarah should be sharing herself, Matt switched subjects. "Have they had any luck finding Jimenez? Did they leave the country?"

"Well, we're fairly certain they did not fly on any kind of aircraft. They didn't take public transportation of any kind."

"He was out cold. Surely he's needed some medical treatment?"

"There are not enough cameras at the park to see where Marcelo Jimenez went, or who got him out of there. They drove off somewhere. The Monterrey people are waiting to see if they contact any family members. Diego Jimenez hasn't said anything that would help us find Marcelo."

"So we're just dead in the water for now."

"Hang in there, Matt. Something is going to break soon. I can feel it."

Matt debated whether to bring up his misgivings about Brad Smith with Lee, but he heard the bathroom door open.

Coming into her bedroom, Sarah looked at Matt questioningly.

He mouthed to her that it was her father. When she started to shake her head and walk away, he spoke up. "Sarah's here now, Lee. I'll give the phone to her."

Sarah did not take phone right away. She spoke almost desperately. "Matt, I can't tell him."

"Sarah, he's your father. You need to talk with him. Maybe it will help." Matt held the phone out to Sarah.

Neither one of them realized that Lee was with Amanda in Phillip's office watching them on the monitor that featured a split screen view of all the townhouse's interior cameras. They had not meant to invade their privacy. They just wanted to see their faces. As he watched Sarah avoid the phone, he could not help but feel a pang of hurt.

Reluctantly Sarah took the phone and sat down on the bed as Matt went to the living room. "Hi, Daddy."

Since Sarah was on the bed, Lee could no longer see her. "Hi, Pumpkin. Matt said you went for a run this morning. Is the treadmill working out okay for you?"

"Yes. It's just great, Daddy. Thank you for getting it. I know it's been a help to Matt, too."

"He told me the other day he had started walking on it. Listen, Sarah, I should tell you I'm watching the monitor right now. I don't mean to seem like I'm stalking you." Lee's voice faltered a bit. "I miss you, and I wanted to see you while we talked."

Sarah started at this. Oh no! Daddy must be hurt by the way I avoided taking the phone. I can hear it in his voice.

"Daddy, something happened yesterday. I hesitated to talk with you because… Hey, is Mom there, too? This is going to be hard for me, and I was hoping I would only have to tell the story once." Sarah got up off the bed so her parents could see her.

Lee was relieved that Sarah was being honest. He looked over at Amanda as he put the phone on the speaker setting. "You're on speaker now. Your mom is right here."

Sarah took a deep breath. She felt a catch in her throat as she exhaled. Don't start crying, now, Sarah. Just get it over with. "I lost my job at the museum."

The brief silence on the other end of the phone was disconcerting for Sarah. She felt her resolve giving way. She silently cursed her lower lip as it began to tremble. "Um, you can see me, but I can't see you…" Sarah sat cross-legged on the chair under the window and put her elbow on her knee, then rested her head on her hand.

It was her mother who spoke first. "Oh Sarah, we don't know what to say. I wish I could give you a hug right now. It breaks my heart that I can't be there with you."

Sarah could hear the catch in her mother's voice. Perhaps the silence had been her trying to think of something helpful to say—or maybe they had been 'talking silently' with one another.

"Sarah, if you were let go because you didn't show up to work, maybe Gil can help fix it."

"Daddy, I tried to think of ways that I could fix this. I even contemplated—but only for a minute—running away from the safe house and going in to work. She said if I came in that afternoon, I could keep my job. If Gil stepped in, Deb would never trust me again; he could not tell her the real reason I had not been to work. He would make up some other story, and she'd know I lied. It's too late now, anyway."

"I'm so sorry, Sarah. If only I had stopped you from going to the park…"

"Daddy, you're the one who always says not to dwell on the 'if onlys' and 'what ifs.' We would have had to go to the safe house or they would have found us anyway. Besides, there were things that Deb said—she thought she made a mistake choosing someone so young… And honestly, I wonder if it is the job I'm so upset about, or the idea of being fired."

"But you did such a remarkable job on the Cold War exhibit. I'm so proud of you, Pumpkin."

"We both are, sweetheart."

"Well, you know that was a special opportunity. Someone with my lack of experience couldn't put together all of the exhibits. But I feel like I've let you both down. You've always been so proud of me. I didn't know how to tell you. And I feel like I've let myself down." Sarah could not stop the tears now. She grabbed a tissue from the box by her bed.

"Sarah." Lee's voice was husky. "You have never let us down. Remember? We told you that the day you told us about your car. And you still haven't let us down. You've been so brave through this whole ordeal. I can't tell you how I proud I was of you when you squared your shoulders and went into Matt's ICU room the first time. You're so young... You shouldn't have to go through these things." Lee stopped to clear his throat. "I'm so sorry about your job, but only because you enjoyed it so much. I'll always be proud of you, Pumpkin. I love you."

Lee was grateful that no one but Amanda could see him wipe the tears from his eyes.

Now it was Sarah's turn to be quiet. Finally she spoke. Lee could tell she had been crying, too. "I really have the best parents. I love you both."

Reflexively, Amanda put a hand out to touch the monitor. "I feel the same way as your father, Sarah. I'm so very proud of you. We are working hard to bring you home. I love you, too."

Phillip, who had willingly loaned his office to his parents, poked his head in the door. Seeing Lee and Amanda's faces, he decided he needed to lighten things up a little. "Are you three done having your cry? I need to have my office back. There's an op coming up this afternoon."

Lee grumbled half-heartedly. Amanda and Sarah laughed more out of relief from the tension than anything else.

"Just a minute more, Phillip." Amanda turned back to the monitor. "Sarah, how is your food holding up? I was going to have Grace Tanaka bring some things over."

"Oh, good timing, Mom. We still have some things in the freezer, but we could use a few other things. I'll text you a list." Sarah paused. "It would be really great if you could send Grace. I don't know how else to say this, but it's kind of awkward when Brad brings things. I hope Grace doesn't hold it against me that I ran off that day. I certainly gave her some grief."

"She likes you, Sarah. I guess she understood, when all was said and done."

Lee broke in, his tone serious. "Sarah, does Francine need to speak with Brad?"

"No, Daddy. Please don't tell her I said anything. He was flirting with me and Matt sort of sent him a message the other day. He probably doesn't mean any harm."

At first Lee grinned to himself at the idea of Matt standing up to the senior agent on Sarah's behalf. Brad Smith was a few years older than Matt, and had been with the Agency for five years. While Smith's record was impeccable, but there was something about the agent that put Lee on edge. Then a thought occurred to him and the smile left his face. "It would be good if you could avoid him, Sarah. You don't want to hurt his feelings." Lee looked at Amanda and put a silent finger to his lips.

Lee stood up and gestured for Phillip to take back his chair. "As I said, I love you, Sarah. Your mom is right. We're doing our best to bring you back home."

"Good bye, Sweetheart."

"Good bye Mom. Good bye, Daddy."

Before he left Phillip's office, Lee took one last look at the monitor. He watched as Sarah went to the living room and lay down on the couch, placing her head in Matt's lap. He turned to Amanda.

She spoke before he could. "You think that Brad Smith is trying to make Matt jealous on purpose. Divide and conquer?"

"Maybe. But not for romantic purposes."

"I think you're on to something. Why else would he take a sudden interest in her? If he's the mole, we need to find a way to prove it before he can do anything."

"Let's get the team together. We can brainstorm—or at least find a way to keep Smith away from the safe house without him knowing we suspect anything."

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

Lightning flickered in the darkened sky and a low rumble followed as the rain increased its patter on the window near Sarah's bed. She had found that if she lay at a certain angle, she could look up through the partially open blinds and watch the sky. The caged feeling drifted away for a time as Sarah would let her mind wander in a daydream. It helped to lessen the ache she sometimes felt when she would be reminded of the world outside their townhouse. She started at the sound of Matt's voice.

"Watching the rain?"

"Yes. I hate these closed blinds sometimes."

"Yeah." He waited, hoping she would open up on her own. Finally he spoke again. "You know, Sarah, if there's something on your mind, you can tell me. I'm right here."

"You don't want to hear me whining."

"I love you. I want to know if you're upset or bothered or whatever."

Sarah was quiet for a moment before she finally spoke. "Sometimes I really miss things. My stuff. My girlfriends. Dance class. My family." Sarah did not think she could say that she missed work out loud. She did not want to cry. Besides, she knew that she did not miss the work so much as the interactions with her work friends.

"You've given up a lot."

"So have you."

"Not as much as you have."

Sarah watched the rain stream down the window pane, creating patterns as drops joined other drops, then split off again. She turned to Matt and sat up. "Let's see if Phillip can set up a call to your parents. You said you wanted to call them this evening. Maybe we can do a video chat. I'd like to say 'hi' to them again."

"They'd love to talk with you. My mom went on and on about you after they 'met' you last time."

"Really?" Sarah smiled shyly as she got off the bed and followed him to the computer.

"Yeah. They did." He smiled back at her and put his arm around her shoulders as he called Phillip.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

Matt waited for Sarah to get in the shower before he got on the treadmill. He was eager to try out his running legs again, and he was sure that Sarah would fret about making his healing lung work too hard. It had been almost a week since he had first come to the safe house, and going on three weeks since his injury. The more strenuous exercise would be a nice change from his walking. He had slowly been increasing his speed over the last few days. Now he jogged slowly. His legs felt stiff, even though he had stretched first. After several minutes, Matt could feel the warning pain at his wound site and in his left shoulder. He slowed to walk. Well, I guess a mile is better than nothing.

He knew he had other motives for getting back into running besides stretching his unused muscles. He was tired of being helpless, and his concern over their safety was growing. They were no closer to finding the mole, and Jimenez had hid himself well.

There was yet one more reason why Matt needed to run—to relieve tension. He had seen signs of anger and frustration in Sarah, and he was beginning to feel them himself. It was not that they did not enjoy being together. They passed their days reading, watching DVDs, and playing board games. In the evening, they would cook dinner together. Afterwards one or the other of them would create a playlist so they could practice their dancing. That was the best part. Holding one another close. It was comforting—and tempting, too. More than once they had ended up in the bathroom sharing kisses, Sarah's hands running through his hair and Matt trying his best to keep his hands from roaming too far. But they were tired of being isolated; Matt knew anger was a natural reaction to their ordeal. He and Sarah had never had any real disagreement except for the brief words over Brad Smith, and he did not want to start having them now.

Matt determined that he would continue running every day. He just hoped his recovering lung could keep up.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

Lee slowed his pace on the elliptical and stepped off. Walking to the window, he looked out across the backyard. Was it only three weeks ago that he had watched Matt and Sarah sparring together on the lawn below? They had been in the safe house that Lee had so carefully arranged for only a little more than a week, but the team investigating Jimenez and the mole had agreed. It was no longer secure. Brad Smith's behavior had grown more suspicious by the day, and while they had no proof he was the mole, it simply was unwise to keep Sarah and Matt in a vulnerable location. Lee had insisted that he and Amanda would be on the team to bring Sarah and Matt to a new safe house. The move was happening today.

"Are you getting in the shower? We have to leave in twenty minutes."

Lee turned around to face Amanda. "Thanks. I'll be right there."

Amanda walked up to Lee and put a hand on his arm, but did not say anything. Looking into her eyes, Lee could read her troubled expression.

"We'll catch them soon, Amanda. I can feel it."

"I just hope no one gets hurt again."

Lee knew that by "no one" she meant Sarah and Matt specifically. "I hope so, too."

"I wish we could have told them we were coming."

"They would have packed up their things—changed their behavior—and it would have tipped off the mole." At Amanda's sigh, Lee wrapped his arms around his wife and kissed her hair before moving past her to go to the shower.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

Sarah stood in the shower and let the water run over her. She had put in five miles at a fast pace on the treadmill and had been running so quickly that Matt had commented when she finally finished her cool-down.

"You're pushing yourself pretty hard."

"It's the only real exercise I get now."

"It's more than that. You don't have to prove anything, Sarah."

"Okay, so I'm running off my frustration. I don't want to start snapping at you."

Sarah knew she had been too abrupt; she didn't fail to notice Matt's eyes cloud over briefly. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too. I'm just worried about you." Matt seemed to back off at that point.

Sarah felt badly for pushing him away. She resolved to make it up to him when she finished showering. She pulled her head out of the water to reach for the shampoo when she heard a noise. It was hard to distinguish, so she stuck her head out from behind the curtain. It was unmistakable now. The treadmill. Matt was running. And it was not a slow jog.

Realization came over her. No wonder he uses the treadmill when I'm showering. He doesn't want me nagging him. I've been so edgy lately. Sarah was not sure if she should be ashamed at that thought or worried that he would reinjure his lung. It's barely three weeks since the surgery. They told him to give it four weeks minimum. Sarah knew it had just been a matter of time before Matt would tire of the recuperation process. And he seems worried—my moodiness isn't going to help him open up. Sarah knew it was time for them to talk. And it was up to her to set a tone that would not shut Matt down.

After her shower, Sarah saw her opportunity. Leaning against the kitchen counter, Matt was reading the newspaper while he cooled down. Her approach surprised him; he did not expect Sarah to come out of the bathroom so soon. He offered her a questioning glance.

"Do you mind if I interrupt? I can come back later."

Matt put the newspaper aside. "What is it?"

"Anything interesting in the newspaper?"

"Nothing really interesting, except we're due for our first big storm of the fall. It's supposed to rain and get cold later this morning—you may want to pull out a sweater. But that's not what you really came to talk about, is it?"

Sarah clasped her hands and looked down at them briefly before raising her eyes back to Matt's. "I want to apologize for being so edgy lately. I practically snapped at you this morning. You meant well."

Sarah knew the conversation was a good idea when she saw a flicker of relief in Matt's eyes. He was trying to cover it out of politeness, but it was there.

"We've both been on edge. Truth be told, I think the treadmill is helping a lot right now."

"Yes. I felt better after that run this morning."

"I'm worried you're pushing yourself too hard, although I know you're just trying to relieve tension."

"Of course dancing in the evening helps relieve tension, too." Sarah smiled knowingly at Matt.

He cleared his throat. "The dancing or the good night kisses afterwards?" Matt smiled crookedly at Sarah.

"Maybe both." Sarah spoke slowly. "As long as we keep it under control."

"Yeah. Is that what you wanted to talk about?"

"No. I just thought we needed to clear the air. And I needed to apologize." Sarah played with a loose thread on her jeans pocket.

"And?"

Sarah looked back up at Matt. His gray eyes, intense, searched hers. He's worried again. "Matt, would you tell me what's bothering you? It's the cartel again, isn't it?"

"Yes, it's the cartel. But it's also us. We've both been on edge. I need to confess that I started running again for the same reasons you are. I was afraid we'd start fighting or something." Matt reached for her hand. "I forgive you, and I'm sorry, too. I love you, you know."

"And I forgive you, my love." Sarah stepped closer and put her arms around Matt.

He returned the gesture, but kept back a little. "You just got out of the shower, and I'm all sweaty."

"It doesn't matter." She put a hand on his chest. "We need to pray more. Not just at night, before we go to bed."

Matt reached out and ran a finger lightly over the scar on Sarah's neck. The stitches were gone and the red line was fading, but it still served as a visual reminder of that day in the park. "We can pray right now. And I need to remember that 'His eye is on the sparrow.'"

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

A half hour later that morning, Phillip King had caught up on the latest emails and turned to check the safe house monitors once again. What the? He typed up a few commands on his computer so he could bring up the less frequently viewed monitors for the townhouse next door. Oh God. We waited too long. Picking up his laptop, he also grabbed his phone and speed-dialed Francine's number as he ran to the bull pen to get the screens up and running for what was going to be a spur-of-the-moment full-scale operation.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

As she turned off the hair dryer, Sarah was startled by the knock on the door. Matt was just getting in the shower in his bathroom, apparently unaware of the visitor. Rather than answer the knock, Sarah went to her room and grabbed her phone. She had missed the text from Brad. Oh no, not again. And I thought they were only allowing Rene to bring us things. She heard the key in the lock. And I thought they changed the locks.

"Sarah? I brought you some breakfast."

Sarah reluctantly went out to the living room, phone in hand. Brad Smith was standing there, smiling at her, a cup in one hand and a bag in the other.

"Hi Brad. You know, I appreciate the gesture, but it's kind of awkward to have you let yourself in like that when we're getting dressed. Where's Rene, anyway?"

Brad ignored the question about Rene. "I knocked first." He seemed disappointed at Sarah's response to his visit. "I just thought it would be nice to say hello. I know you must get stir crazy being with Matt all the time and never seeing anyone else."

Sarah could feel the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. She wracked her brain for some kind of excuse to get Brad to leave. "Well, it was sweet of you to bring the food. I'm almost done with my hair, so I'll eat it in a little bit, if you'd like to leave it on the counter. I'll see you soon." She started to back towards the hallway.

"Well, I'm sorry to intrude. Would you like to take a sip of the smoothie? I want to be sure they made it right. I've seen you make your smoothies, so I tried to have them make it the same way."

Alarmed now at his familiarity and suspicious about the food, Sarah was willing to do anything to get Brad out of the townhouse. She cautiously took the cup from Brad's extended hand and pretended to take a sip. "It's perfect. Thanks." Just then her phone rang. It was Francine.

"Well, don't wait too long to drink it. They don't keep well." Brad smiled at Sarah before turning to leave.

Sarah answered her phone. "Hey, Francine."

"Sarah, if Brad Smith is still there, I'd like to talk with him."

"He just stepped out."

Francine hesitated, wanting to be certain she spoke carefully. She did not want Sarah to become alarmed and tip off Smith. Already agents were on their way. Smith had made certain the ones guarding the safe house were out of commission. Rene Enriquez and Grace Tanaka were lying on the floor of the townhouse next door, apparently unconscious. "Make sure he does not get back in. He was assigned to surveillance across town. He should not be there."

"Truth be told, Francine, he was acting strangely. He brought me breakfast."

"Don't eat it."

"I didn't—I just pretended to take a sip. But he was really pushing me to."

Before Sarah could lock the extra deadbolt, the door opened once again to the townhouse. Her breath caught in a gasp and she whispered into the phone. "Francine, the front door… Oh, I didn't get to the lock in time. He's back."

A small cylindrical device rolled across the floor, stopping a few feet from Sarah. A voice inside of her told her to get away. Turning towards the garage door, she could hear Francine urging her to get in the car, but it was too late. A blinding flash assaulted her eyes, and a deafening noise reverberated throughout the townhouse, causing her ears to ring with an unbearably high-pitched whine. Overcome with dizziness, she tried to reach for the sink, but missed and fell to the floor, her phone skidding across the linoleum and out of reach.

Walking into the bullpen as she was speaking to Sarah, Francine almost dropped the phone at the terrible noise coming over the line. It took a moment to register whether there was something wrong with her phone or at the safe house. But the almost simultaneous bright flashes coming from several of the monitors made it obvious that the problem was at the safe house.

Phillip heard the noise from where he sat at the monitors and spoke urgently. "Francine. You must have been on the phone with Sarah. Someone set off a flash bang. Sarah's been compromised—I think it was Smith. He had just left. Oh God, he's in there with her."

"Keep an eye on the monitors. Find out what Granger is doing, and watch your sister—and pull up the GPS tracker we have on the car." She directed her attention to her assistant. "Dava. Scramble some agents. Johnson and Gonzales should not be far away; they were going to the safe house this morning. Let them know that Smith has gone rogue. And try to get the helicopter; maybe the weather will hold."

"Excuse me, Chief. Did you say Smith, as in Brad Smith?"

"Yes, Dava. Smith has turned."

After hanging up his towel, Matt pulled on his pants and was just reaching for his shirt when he heard the noise, unbearably loud even behind the closed door with the bathroom fan running. It was one of the many things he wanted to forget from his two years in Afghanistan. But unfortunately, the memory would probably be with him for the rest of his life. A flash grenade. Oh God, Sarah. He had to get to her. He listened at the door. Remembering the shoes he had taken off in the bathroom, he slipped them on his feet.

Opening the door cautiously, he scanned his bedroom and listened again. He thought he heard Sarah moan, the sound coming from the kitchen. I've got to get to her. He stepped over to his bedside table and reached behind it for the gun that had been hidden there. Having checked the Glock just the night before, Matt could tell by the weight of the weapon that it was still loaded; no one had come into the room and tampered with it. Creeping up to the doorway, he tried to see out to the living area. There was no movement and no sound. Offering up a quick prayer, he hoped Sarah could somehow get herself to the car—and see well enough to drive. His Army training had taught him to recover quickly from a "flash bang," known for their deafening noise and blinding flash. It was a useful tool for disorienting the enemy without causing damage or, hopefully, injury to the victims. But those who had not been exposed to flash grenades were usually rendered helpless for as long as a few minutes after the blast. With her recent head injury, Sarah might be incapacitated for much longer. If it had been thrown close to her. He prayed again. Please don't let her be hurt.

Just as he eased himself into the hallway, hugging the wall to avoid being seen, another grenade landed just a few feet away. The b-d heard me. He dived into the bedroom, but the grenade activated before he could close the door. Now blinded and temporarily deaf, Matt managed to get back to the living area just as his vision was beginning to return. Brad Smith was there, pulling off ear protectors and dumping them beside a pair of goggles. His responses slowed by the blast, Matt could not react before Smith stepped to the kitchen and pulled Sarah to her feet. Her head lolled to one side and her feet dragged as he hauled her to the garage door, which had been propped open. He paused briefly as she retched, but nothing came up.

"Smith. Stop right there. I'm armed. There's no way you can get her in the car without me shooting you." Matt's words were barely audible to his own ears. Sarah did not seem to register his presence.

It was then that Matt saw the pistol in Smith's free hand. He raised it and pressed it against Sarah's temple. Matt did not need to hear the words that Smith spoke. He stood frozen as Smith disappeared through the garage door, dragging Sarah with him.

There was no time to lose. Smith might disable the car's GPS signal. He pulled the cell phone from his pants and ran out the front door. Matt could tell the wind was beginning to pick up, but it was not as noticeable close to the front of the building.

Approaching the front entrance of the townhouse next door, Matt could just detect the sickly sweet smell of some kind of gas. He wracked his brain, trying to remember from where he recognized the odor. Trying the knob, the door was locked. Obviously the agents were down, or they would have been out the door long before. Matt stepped back and kicked at the door with all of his might. It flew inward, and as Matt was assaulted full force with the odor, he recognized it. It's that gas they used on Amanda when Birol's people took her hostage. Smith got it, too, at the time. Is this some kind of sick message? Matt took a deep breath of the fresh outside air and held it. Stepping inside the townhouse, he quickly looked around for Rene and Grace. Rene lay near the door, the keys to his car in his hand. His shoulder holster and weapon were nowhere to be seen. Matt quickly checked his pulse and grabbing the keys, went back outside, leaving the door open so the gas could escape. His hearing still not fully restored, he could not be certain Smith had driven away with Sarah.

As Matt dashed back out to the Agency sedan that had been assigned to Rene, he was grateful for his partner's quick thinking. At least he had the keys in hand for me, if he couldn't make it out the door. Putting the phone on the speaker setting, he speed-dialed the Agency and held the phone to his ear as he got in the car and started it. "This is Agent Granger. The bird has left the nest. This is a flash one priority. I need to speak with Chief Beaman."

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

Lee almost pulled the car over but kept driving. At the news that Amanda had relayed from Phillip, he slammed his fist against the dashboard. "Damn it, Amanda! How did he know? He must have known."

"I don't know, but aside from Gonzales and Johnson, we're the only agents close enough to help. Lee, I'm feeling as desperate about this as you are, but Sarah and Matt need us. Smith may have known we were going to move them—we've been checking for bugs, but maybe he planted some kind of sophisticated listening device somewhere."

"Or he may not have known and just gotten lucky. You're right. I need to pull myself together. I'm just getting too old for this, Amanda. And it's our daughter." He turned briefly to Amanda, his eyes stricken.

Amanda reached out her hand, but what Lee needed was an embrace. That was not possible, so they simply clasped their hands over the console. His face now set with the same determined look that Amanda had seen on many a mission, Lee concentrated on maneuvering the BMW along the fastest route towards the safe house.