Chapter Seven

Now that we knew Hannah was safely outside the house, our options opened up considerably. Nerve gas was still out; Rudy felt that if Jaime were drugged or disabled in any way, the results might be disastrous. The knockout gas canisters were delivered within minutes, along with a half-dozen gas masks. I put one on and stood right next to the door, on the non-windowed side. I intended to be the first one in, with Jaime being the first one out. Oscar gave the signal, and three small holes were created in three separate windows, with the canisters detonating instantly. I gave it 'til the count of three, then went inside to find my wife.

Jaime was slumped over the side of one of the armchairs, with all five men unconscious on the floor around her. I sort of 'nudged' them out of the way with my feet (maybe not as gently as I should've, but oh well), grabbed my wife and carried her out into the fresh air where a medic now waited with an oxygen mask. Jaime was already fighting her way back to consciousness, and firmly pushed away the mask.

"Steve...find...Hannah..." was the first thing she said. I held her until she was fully awake, and kept telling her Hannah was safe. As soon as Jaime was coherent, I called on the datacom for Rudy to bring our daughter to her mother. Soon, Jaime was in the Medivac, flying to the hospital with our newest little hero in her arms.

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When we got to the hospital, Jaime refused to leave Hannah's side, and I told Rudy that the only way we'd get them both settled into beds for a good night's rest (they were both staying overnight, for observation) was to put the two beds in the same room. Once Rudy was in agreement and the hospital rules were bent, Jaime and I sat on either side of Hannah's bed and talked to her about happy things – like Watson, her favorite books, what she'd been studying – until she finally drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face. Then I helped Jaime into a wheelchair (at Rudy's insistence, since she was still a little wobbly) and took her down to the lounge. We both knew we had plenty to talk about.

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Steve brought it up first, but we were both well aware we had a few things to explain to our middle child. We weren't sure yet exactly what she'd seen or what she knew, and we didn't tell James and Lauren about the work we do until they were ten, but we knew that for Hannah, it was time. In many ways, she was more mature at eight than the twins were at ten, and what she'd just gone through deserved an honest explanation. Steve and I have never lied to our children – ever – and we weren't about to start now.

Since the other kids would be with Jim and Helen for a few more days, we decided to take a short trip of our own, up to the vacation cabin, while the house was being aired out and its windows replaced. We told Hannah that we wanted to spend some time with just her and Watson, which made her whole face light up, and we explained that the three of us would have a good long talk once we got settled in up there. That gave Steve and I the length of the drive to figure out what we were going to say.

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The weather had cooperated – it was a gorgeous, sunny day. We sat down together on the front porch of the cabin, with Hannah's ankle propped up on throw pillows, and Jaime and I sat on either side of our daughter with both of us holding her close. Jaime started by asking Hannah where she'd been and what she'd seen the previous afternoon. It grieved us both terribly to learn that Hannah had seen the men's guns and also witnessed them manhandling her mother as they forced Jaime into the house. She didn't hear any of what was being said, and never saw the stun gun, but she'd seen far more than any child should ever have to see.

Jaime told her how smart she'd been to write down the details, and how very brave it was for her to jump down from the attic to try and go for help. She (and all of our children) had memorized a phone number we'd given them to use in case of an extreme emergency, and now Jaime carefully explained that the number was for Oscar's private phone line. We told her that yes, he was our boss as well as a very close friend, and that he was a very important man in our country's government. Hannah listened to every word with eyes even wider than usual, taking it all in like a thirsty sponge. I told her, as gently as possible, that the men who'd come to the house were men her mother had put behind bars, and they'd come intending to hurt Jaime as a means of revenge.

When we'd both finished our explanations, Hannah was quiet for several very long minutes, just absorbing what she'd learned, then she looked at each of us and smiled. (I can't tell you how much that smile warmed my heart!) She said "So...you're really the good guys?" Jaime agreed that she was right, and Hannah gave a little giggle and added "I almost thought you were bank robbers, since you wouldn't tell us anything, but don't worry – I'll keep it a secret."

Like Jaime said when Hannah was born, our middle child is a very old soul.

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