Mercy Mild—Chapter Nine

It didn't take long to realize the noise was Grandma Jane arriving. Victoria was only a little disappointed, but then she realized Daddy wouldn't have come home through the front door since none of them had used it since Jack was stolen. There were people watching their house, people Victoria had heard Daddy call vultures—and some other things that weren't as nice and that she would be in trouble if she repeated them. Aunt Julie and Aunt Dena were there, too, and so was General Patterson.

Victoria never quite knew what to think about General Patterson. Mummy and Daddy liked him, she knew, but he made Daddy mad sometimes, usually about Mummy. Mummy normally got mad when people called her names that a lot of grown women got angry about, but she didn't seem to mind when the General called her a pretty little girl, which was what he usually called her when he wasn't talking directly to her. That confused Victoria, too, because while Mummy was pretty, she wasn't a little girl.

Well, she was kind of short compared to the other women in the family—except for Victoria's sister Alex, who was actually a few inches shorter than Mummy.

She kind of suspected Mummy would say she wasn't anybody's anything. Mummy said she was Daddy's wife, and she said she was Victoria and Jack's mum, but otherwise, Mummy liked being her own person. Sometimes General Patterson told Daddy he would be more than happy to take care of Mummy when Daddy was gone, which made Daddy kind of mad. That was confusing because Victoria would have thought Daddy would like that someone he trusted would watch out for them when he wasn't with them.

Usually, though, General Patterson called Mummy Daddy's pretty little girl, which Daddy didn't seem to mind at all.

This general was sort of fun, unlike that redheaded one Daddy worked for. Victoria was really glad she hadn't decided to come see what was going on because Mummy didn't like her much, and Victoria didn't think Mummy needed the kind of stress she obviously felt when the other woman was around, especially with all of her worry about Jack.

It distracted her when Aunt Julie hugged Victoria and asked, "You doing alright?"

Victoria nodded, afraid she might cry if she tried to answer. She was growing more and more worried about Jack, especially since no one had called them. Victoria knew that on TV and in the movies when people were stolen, the people who took them almost always called and demanded something, usually money. She knew Mummy would pay anything to get Jack back, but no one seemed to be asking for anything in return for him.

That bothered Victoria, especially since she'd heard Daddy say many times that he would never negotiate with terrorists, and in Victoria's head, kidnappers were just another kind of terrorist.

She wondered if anyone had asked to trade Clara and Aunt Ellie for something, but she suspected the grownups wouldn't tell her if someone had. After all, Mummy had told her again earlier in the day that she wasn't to talk to anyone about what had happened, and that made it pretty hard to get any information she could use to help Daddy get Jack back alive.

It was really frustrating not to be able to do something that could help. Victoria didn't like that at all.

After Mummy sorted out who would stay where, Victoria went with Aunt Julie and Aunt Dena to the apartment Mummy had decorated in the basement. Her aunts had chosen that space because they would have some privacy and because they could come and go without disturbing others. That idea worried Victoria because apparently grownups could get stolen, too, and she didn't want her aunts to get stolen because then they would have even more people to try and get back. Then again, Aunt Julie was Daddy's sister, so she could probably take care of herself.

Her aunts took their time settling in. Victoria noticed they didn't unpack a lot. Aunt Julie kept asking a lot of questions about what happened to Jack, and Aunt Dena kept trying to change the subject to something else. It was never easy to get Aunt Julie to change the subject, but Victoria didn't mind answering her questions. No one seemed to want to talk about Jack or what happened to him, so she kind of liked that Aunt Julie did.

When they went back upstairs, Grandma Jane, who was waiting for them, suggested she and Victoria make cookies. Victoria was happy enough to have something to do, so she followed her grandma to the kitchen. Mummy, she noticed, disappeared into Daddy's office with General Patterson and Grandpa V. H. Part of her wondered if her mum had arranged this to keep Victoria from being sneaky or trying to get involved.

"How come General Patterson came with you?" she asked her grandma as Victoria rolled the buttery dough into a ball between her palms for the little pecan things Mummy liked. Grandma Jane put bourbon in hers, but Victoria wasn't about to tell Mummy since her grandma used the drinking stuff instead of the stuff Mummy used to cook.

"Paul's an old friend," she said.

Victoria put the ball of dough on a cookie sheet and took another blob to roll into another ball. "Doesn't he have a family to spend Christmas with?"

Grandma Jane eyed her. "No, Victoria, he doesn't."

She thought about that, wondered if Jack would have to spend Christmas without family. "He wears a wedding ring. Doesn't he have a wife?"

Her grandmother reached for more dough and said, "She passed away long before you were born, and they never had children."

About to ask if he had brothers and sisters who might have kids, Victoria stopped. General Patterson was kind of old, so his family might have all died, which would be really sad, and no one should be sad or alone at Christmas. Instead, she said, "Then I guess it's okay if he shares ours."

Grandma Jane gave her a funny smile and hugged her; Victoria wondered what that was for.

As they rolled baked cookies in powdered sugar, Victoria wondered if Uncle Devon might need to share their family, too.

Eventually, most of the people in the house found their way to the kitchen, which made it really crowded. Grandma Jane put them to work, and she occasionally smacked Aunt Julie's hand for sneaking cookies. One time Aunt Julie ratted Victoria out, who had filched one or two, too, but Grandma Jane didn't smack her as she had Julie. She did give Victoria a look that made very clear where Daddy's hard stare came from.

Mummy looked really tired as she and Grandma Jane quietly talked about dinner. Victoria was tired, too, but she had managed to sleep some the night before. She suspected Mummy hadn't at all. Mummy often didn't sleep when she was really, really worried. Daddy once told her they would all get fat because she usually baked all night when she worried. Mummy hadn't baked the night before, but Victoria had woken up several times to hear her parents talking softly to one another.

She thought about telling Mummy she was tired to trick Mummy into taking a nap with her, but since it was about the time she usually made Jack take a nap, Victoria decided it might be best not to remind her mum that he was gone by asking her to go upstairs with her. She would probably do it if Victoria pretended to be afraid, but her mum would probably only stay with her until she actually went to sleep, which is what Mummy had done when she was little and often did when Jack didn't really want to take his nap.

Jack got really cranky when he didn't get his nap, and part of Victoria hoped whoever had stolen him wasn't making him take one.

Mummy gave her a funny look, so Victoria figured her smile had a kind of meanness to it as she thought that. She schooled her features, tried to make her face blank the way her mum and dad often did when they couldn't let anyone know what they did or what they knew about some stuff.

That just made Mummy look at her more closely, her eyes narrowed slightly and her head tilted to the left just a tiny bit, which made Victoria think her mum suspected she might be up to something. Fortunately, Grandma Ariel asked her a question, so she crossed the kitchen to where Grandma Jane and Grandma Ariel stood talking at the stove.

She knew they were talking about dinner, especially when Mummy began opening cabinets and rooting through them, occasionally removing an item. Victoria watched as she went to the pantry for a few things, and then the refrigerator. She smiled when she realized Mummy was going to make lasagna. Given the vegetables she removed, there would be minestrone and salad as well. She then set about making bread. Mummy's Italian bread was much better than that from the bakery. Grandma Ariel began to chop onions, and Grandma Jane worked on the garlic and then the tomatoes.

Victoria just hoped Mummy would make homemade pasta for the soup and the lasagna. It was so much better than the kind of rubbery stuff from the box.

She heard Alex tell Uncle Morgan she was tired, and then he ushered her away, presumably upstairs to get a nap. Mummy told her own mum, "She really should have stayed home with the baby so close."

Frowning, Victoria wondered what that meant.

Grandpa V. H. said, "Her father was worried about her safety, and rightly so."

That had Victoria frowning even harder as she tried to figure out what he might mean. She knew bad things could happen when babies were born, but she was pretty sure that wouldn't have worried Daddy that much. Then she figured it probably had to do with being afraid Alex might get stolen, too.

Victoria realized then that Uncle Chuck and Aunt Walker had disappeared, so she slipped out of the kitchen to see where they might be. She hadn't heard anyone leave, so she wondered if they were in Daddy's office doing spy stuff. The office door was closed. When Victoria decided she didn't need to knock and simply opened it, neither of them were there. They weren't likely to be anywhere else, so she assumed they had either gone back to Uncle Devon's or were out looking for Aunt Ellie, Clara, and Jack.

She closed the door, lost in thought about what might be happening outside their house when one of the FBI people stepped off the stairs into the hall where she stood. Victoria didn't like the look of the man. He was kind of pretty and very neatly dressed, sort of like someone just took him out of an action figure package and hadn't played with him yet. He was tall, had kind of brownish blond haired, and wore a suit. That alone was enough to raise suspicions for her because the other agents who had been in their house were more casually dressed.

"Who are you?" Victoria demanded, knew she sounded rude but excused it because he didn't look like he belonged.

"Agent Wentworth."

He sounded like he didn't like answering to a kid. It was her house, though, so she decided he had to answer her questions.

"What's your first name?"

"Special."

Victoria crossed her arms and gave him a narrow-eyed stare. "Special Agent Wentworth," she said like Daddy would, her voice flat. It didn't have quite the effect Daddy's way of saying it would, but the man looked a little more closely at her. "'Special' is just part of your title," she added, popped up a brow so he'd know she wasn't a stupid kid. "What's your first name?"

"None of your business."

She had yet to meet an FBI agent since Jack was stolen who refused to tell her who he or she was. In fact, most of them had given her their first name and skipped the formal titles that said what kind of agent they were and their last names. The ones in the house were generally pretty friendly. Victoria wondered why this one was different. "Can I see your credentials?"

That startled him. She wondered if that was because she didn't ask to see his gun or his badge, which is what most kids tended to ask people who did what he did. Victoria knew that his identification and his badge, both of which would be in the same little wallet thing were called credentials, and she wanted him to know she wasn't dumb.

At first, the man just stood there, then he cocked his head to the side and gave her a narrow-eyed stare.

She thought he was trying too hard to look relaxed because there was a kind of tightness in his face that made her think he was getting mad. That might have been because Victoria hadn't given up on finding out what his name was, but she thought it might be something else. She just didn't know what.

"You ever hear that old saying that kids should be seen and not heard?"

She dropped her arms, and her hands made fists, mainly because she didn't like the snotty tone of voice he used. "This is my house," she bit out, "and the only reason you get to be here is because my brother got stolen. You don't have to be rude."

He put his hands in his trouser pockets and eyed her. She was kind of used to that reaction from grownups, so she wasn't afraid. Victoria was pretty sure he was mad, and she was equally sure he thought she ought to be afraid of him. She might have been if he had reached inside his jacket where he would have his gun.

After several long moments, the agent removed his hands from his pockets and once more let them hang at his side. His face went kind of blank. "Why don't you run along and play?"

"Why?"

The man clearly wanted her to go away, but Victoria couldn't help but wonder why about that, too. The other agents had mostly stayed near the doors, outside to keep people away, or near enough to where the family were to make sure anyone who got past the others wouldn't get near her or her parents. It made no sense for him to be where he was.

As she watched him, she began to wonder if he wasn't really a good guy, especially when she realized that whoever had last been in Daddy's office hadn't locked it back. He kept that room locked when he wasn't using it because there was stuff from his work there. She knew that because once she had decided to use Daddy's computer and had accidentally called General Beckman, who had been sort of coldly polite about it. She must have yelled at Daddy later because Victoria got one of his Talking To's about breaking into government equipment and not interrupting his boss while she was at work (she had nearly asked if it would have been okay if she had interrupted that redheaded general at home).

Victoria made a decision right then not to move from Daddy's office door, except, maybe, to go inside and stay there until someone came who could lock the door and maybe keep that FBI man out.

Before the man could finally answer her, she heard the front door burst open, and he turned to go see what was going on.

-X-

A distraught Woodcomb was surrounded by a small mob of family and FBI agents when Casey made it to his living room. Clara cried, "Daddy!" and went running. The grownups around Woodcomb parted before her, and then the doctor scooped up his daughter and held her tightly, practically bawling.

Casey wasn't going to belittle that, suspected he would react similarly if he saw Jack and there were no immediate threats. He was more worried about what the media whores outside might be making of Woodcomb's visit and what would happen if they tried harder to get closer to the house than they had so far managed.

He did a fast headcount. Alex and Grimes were missing, and so was Victoria. Riah appeared before him almost immediately, but the expression on her face cut deeply. He wrapped his arms around her and tried to figure out how to tell her why he had brought Clara home but not Jack. He decided he wanted privacy for that conversation, if for no other reason than he knew how upset she'd be. He knew she wouldn't want others to see her distress.

"Where's Victoria?" he asked to distract her from questions he didn't really want to answer with an audience.

She shook her head.

He bent and kissed her then told her softly, "Clara was the only one they brought to a meet. They sent a message that they would call tonight about Jack and Ellie."

That wasn't exactly true, and he felt guilty for the lie as Riah bit down on her lip then gave a tight little nod. He pulled her closer, rested a cheek on the top of her head and breathed in deeply.

It was obvious the rest of the family had arrived while he'd been gone. He met V. H.'s eyes. The man raised his eyebrows, looked a question but made no accusations. Ariel looked like she was about to launch her windup, but the other man decided to distract her, for which Casey was grateful. His mother rested a hand on his arm and gave him a small smile. Her hand moved to Riah's back. She said, "Johnny, take Riah upstairs and get her to relax while the rest of us finish dinner."

Riah pushed away a little then, about to protest.

His mom gave her a gentle smile and said, "Go with Johnny. Let him tell you what he found out."

Emma stood nearby, her own worry clearly written on her face. He told her, "Woodcomb and Clara are going to stay here. Figure out where to put them—Walker and Bartowski, too."

He signaled Walker, who put a hand on Bartowski's arm to get his attention. Casey nodded with his head toward where his office was, and the kid nodded back. Bartowski said something to Clara and Woodcomb. Casey relaxed his hold on Riah, gently told her to come with him. He kept his arm around her as he headed toward his office.

In the hall, he stopped cold, frowned at his daughter who was clearly guarding the office door. "Daddy!" she breathed and rushed him. He dropped his arm from Riah's waist and moved to scoop his daughter up. Only then did he see a man retreating down the hall.

"Special Agent Wentworth is an asshole," his daughter whispered in his ear.

He shot a look where the man had disappeared down a back stairway. "What have I told you, Victoria?" he asked, but there was no inflection since his attention was on the stairway. That was not the way she generally voiced her displeasure with people. He noticed his wife hadn't protested their daughter's observation, so Casey wondered what had made Victoria say that.

"He wouldn't tell me his first name or show me his credentials," Victoria said. "Someone left your office unlocked, and I think he wanted me to go away so he could go in there."

Setting his daughter on her feet, he shot Riah a look. "Take her in there while I go have a word with Special Agent Wentworth."

He strode down the hall and then the stairs toward the kitchen, his long legs eating up the distance. He wanted to run because he'd seen the duty roster for Dietrich's agents, and not one of them had been named Wentworth. His mother turned from where she did something at a cabinet next to his mother-in-law, and he bit out, "Where did the FBI agent go?"

Ariel pointed at the back door. Casey wrenched it open. The man was disappearing through the fence gate, and he decided, as he started to run, that he'd do what he'd suggested when Riah bought the place: have it replaced by more fencing so that going back and forth between their yard and Mrs. Standish's was considerably more difficult. Maybe electricity would be a good addition, though the woman who owned the house behind theirs was unlikely to agree. After all, it wasn't very likely Riah would ask her to watch the kids in a pinch after this.

Of course, they might just be about to sell the place given what had happened and given they obviously had their covers blown where the operation was concerned.

Casey picked up speed, hoped to catch the man, but a car screeched to a minimal stop before peeling away as the guy jumped in the back just as Casey reached the sidewalk. He stared at the back of the car, memorized make and model and the plate.

As he headed back to the house, he called Dietrich, told him what had happened and asked him to trace the car that had picked up "Special Agent Wentworth."

Inside again, his mother raised her brows as he stepped into the kitchen. He shook his head. "If he comes back," he warned, "call me immediately."

"You're going out again?"

He shook his head. "Not tonight." Casey thought about the call Clara had told him would come. "At least I don't plan to." He sighed, raked a hand through his hair and studied his mother. "Maybe you should have stayed at home."

She came forward and hugged him before she kissed his cheek. "I would far rather be here where I can do what I do best."

Frowning, he was about to ask what that meant, but then he realized—doing just what she was, settling him and his family, seeing they had what they needed.

Before he could say something incredibly girly, Ariel told him, "Go see your wife. Mariah's been holding things together, but I think she's reached her limit. She's tired, she's upset, and she needs a distraction."

It was only as he walked away that Casey realized she had said your wife, not my daughter.

Inside the office, he found Riah, Victoria, Bartowski and Walker. Given what they were about to discuss, he nearly sent his daughter for V. H., but he decided to hear what she had to say before bringing the other man into this. He was pretty sure how his father-in-law would react when Casey told him Riah was, presumably, the price for Jack's safe return.

Skipping, for the moment, who had failed to lock the door, Casey looked at Victoria and asked her to tell him about Wentworth. His daughter recited her encounter with the man, including her suspicions that he wanted something inside the room they now occupied. She also gave Casey a pretty detailed description of him before she told him how rude the man was. Riah was trying to bite back a smile, and when he looked at her, she lifted a brow. He got it, got that the man's behavior sounded remarkably like his when he was annoyed.

Casey considered, then he crossed to the desk. He tossed Walker a scanner and picked up a second one. They efficiently and thoroughly made the sweep. Bartowski took care of the electronics while Riah softly spoke to Victoria so that she didn't try to help.

While they worked, Casey considered who Wentworth might have been. It was possible he really was an FBI special agent. It was also possible he wasn't and had somehow managed to slip past the agents on duty. Victoria said he'd refused to show his credentials, but if he'd had them, all he had to do was show them to Casey's daughter to get her to back down. Had he done so, she likely wouldn't have been suspicious at all. Instead, Wentworth—if that was really his name—had aroused her curiosity, which made no sense if he'd been there to spy.

They were going to have to search the house, methodically and completely, so he walked to the door, found one of the female agents whose name he knew and asked Kelly to get his father-in-law.

As he closed the door again and turned to face the others, he caught his wife's gaze. Riah was white-faced. She'd clearly heard what he'd asked Kelly to do, and he wondered what she thought he was going to tell V. H. that made her look so upset.

"We're going to have to search the house," he explained. Walker nodded grimly.

"Why?" Victoria asked.

"We don't know where the man you saw was or what he was doing." Or how he got in and what he might have brought with him. Casey had a mental image of the explosives Clara had worn earlier. "I want to make sure he didn't leave us any surprises."

V. H. entered followed by Paul Patterson. Casey quickly told them what needed doing. V. H. said, "I'll get a couple of the FBI agents to help."

Patterson nodded at Casey and then crossed to Victoria and Riah. He looked down at Casey's daughter and said, "I understand you and Jane made cookies this afternoon. Think we could sneak a few and spoil our dinner?"

Casey bit back a grin when Victoria gave the General a hard stare and primly informed him, "Mummy might get mad if we spoil our dinner."

"Two," Riah said, and Casey noticed she had to stop a smile to make sure it sounded stern enough to keep Victoria from taking liberties with the ability to eat dessert before dinner. "I think, just this once, you can have two before dinner." She looked at Patterson then and warned, "Only two."

As soon as they were gone, Casey explained what had happened, beginning with interviewing Tori Bates. When he got to the part where he met Clara in the park, he locked his eyes on Riah. Bartowski was going to go ballistic, but Casey was more worried about her reaction.

"You couldn't wait for the bomb squad?" Clara's uncle squawked indignantly.

"I could have," he said, watching his wife, who looked a little like she might faint—not that she was prone to, but he knew she understood what it was like to be in Clara's position and to feel completely helpless. "Dietrich's man says if they decided to detonate it, the explosive would have taken out half a block." The old sarcasm settled in. "What little was left of her—if anything was left of her—could be buried in a pill bottle."

It went too far, he realized from Riah's horrified reaction, but it shut Bartowski up. Walker was the one who hissed his name.

He breathed in, looked over at Chuck and said, "I wouldn't have tried it if it hadn't been such a simple device, one that was easily disarmed."

Looking back at his wife, it was easy to see she thought the same thing that had belatedly occurred to him. He was grateful she didn't voice any doubts and set Bartowski off again. He sighed and decided to get on with the rest of it, the part that was going to cause more than Bartowski to squawk.

Before he could line the words up, though, Chuck asked, "What about Ellie?"

Shaking his head, Casey admitted, "She wasn't there. I only spoke to her on the phone, and it wasn't long enough for a trace." He met Walker's eyes this time, watched her shift her weight and press her lips grimly together. Since that was her usual preparation for bad news, he figured she knew what was coming.

"Your niece said they would call tonight with the details." Casey swung his gaze back to his wife already martialing all the reasons he wouldn't let her do what he was certain she'd insist on doing. "Clara was told to tell me they will trade you and Chuck for Ellie and Jack."

Riah went even paler than she already was, but it was Bartowski who practically shouted, "Do it! Make the deal!"

Casey rounded on him. Even though he'd known that would be the kid's reaction, he wondered when the moron would finally learn that wasn't how the game was played, nor was it a viable option. That wasn't because it was a package deal with Casey's wife as part of the prize, either—it was because Bartowski was the Intersect, and that made him government property whether he liked it or not. The decision wasn't Chuck's to make; it was the U. S. government's. Because of Jack, because of what it would do to Riah if something happened to their son, Casey was no happier about it than Bartowski was, less so since he was pretty sure Riah was the real prize Quinnell, at least, was after. "We can't."

"Casey," Chuck wheedled, a habit that still irritated him at the best of times. "We're talking about Ellie. My sister. We have to do whatever it takes to get her back. Clara needs her! Awesome needs her! I need her!"

He stepped into Bartowski's personal space. He wanted to make sure the kid didn't decide to cut his own deal if Quinnell or one of his men contacted him instead of Casey. "We need Jack, but this isn't the way to get him back alive."

Chuck's eyes searched his, his mouth slightly open as the kid's mind raced. Casey sincerely wished he'd come up with a winnable scenario that would let them act without orders—or ignore the ones he thought Beckman would make any moment: Chuck and Riah in a bunker never to see daylight again. If the kid was lucky, he might be able to have Walker come for conjugal visits, but he'd never see the rest of his family or the Bearded Man Life Partner again.

Casey didn't want to think about life without his wife, or, as might be likely, his children.

"Make the deal, John," Riah said quietly. He turned to see she still sat on the sofa. "We'll have to carefully plan it so that no one is hurt, but it's not like this is a scenario for which none of us are trained."

She'd regained some color, and there was determination on her face. About to say an unconditional no, about to tell her there was no way her father would allow it either, he watched her lift her chin. "It began with me, John, and it needs to end here. I'm not sure how Quinnell pieced it all together, but he did. Let's stop him, destroy this before anyone else has a chance to figure it out as well."

Walker was the one who asked, "How do you know there won't be someone else?"

His wife held Casey's gaze when she answered. "I don't work for ISI anymore," she told them softly, "but I . . . freelance a bit of analysis now and then. I agreed to do that on condition that every scrap of information about the Montreal Project was destroyed. I personally saw to it. What still exists, Quinnell has, and it needs to be eradicated as well—Quinnell, too."

Funny, Casey thought, how that didn't quite answer the questions he'd begun to have about whether or not she had quietly gone back to work for ISI. From her expression, there was more to this than she was admitting, so he retraced her words. He nearly corrected her, nearly said that it began with Bartowski but she had complicated matters when she was sent to Casey. Then he realized it really had begun with her, that whatever they had done to her had been done before Bartowski accidentally downloaded the prototype of the Intersect as a small child.

"At a guess," Riah continued, "they want a functioning Intersect, and at a further guess, they want to know why I don't work. The more they have, the easier it will be to figure out how to make another Chuck and avoid another me." She sighed, rubbed her palms along the top of her thighs. "When they call, John, make the deal."

Walker, forever the mediator, stepped in then. "We don't get to make the decision, Mariah."

"You can," she countered. She looked at Walker then. "The only way to get close enough is to make the deal. If worse comes to worse, Quinnell's people provide bargaining chips for our side."

Casey snorted. "More than likely, they'll be expendable, nothing he wants back."

"He'll send Bailey Ford."

Wondering why she sounded so certain, he crossed his arms, lifted a brow.

"It's his pattern," she explained. "In Edmonton, he sent one of his top lieutenants, Finley."

Casey remembered that name from Victoria's first Christmas and that hellhole in Gaza before that.

"He was likely involved when I was seven," she continued. "I saw a memorandum in his CSIS file this morning that indicated he'd been disciplined about then over a highly classified incident involving ISI."

"So we set a trap," Bartowski said, clearly taking Riah's side because it was what he wanted to do. Casey gave it some thought. If it had been any other people, he'd have someone on identifying the building in the floorplan and calling in a tactical team. The kid and his wife were perfect bait, but he couldn't quite shake the feeling they wanted all of them, Ellie and Jack included. Clara as well, if they could get her back.

Walker eyed him. "Unless you have a better idea, Casey, Chuck's right."

"Make the deal, John."