Marshfield, Wisconsin, En Route, 2019

They left Dr. Hughes at the warehouse. Leo didn't understand everything about what was said. But he knew his fathers feared the doctor's life might be in danger should the FBI catch wind of their collaboration. The plan was that Chris would meet them later in a separate vehicle.

The three adults had decided not to travel to Oakdale just yet. Rather they first wanted to search for clues in Branson, where Leo's grandfather, Winston, was previously stationed.

Leo's dad thought there was a distinct possibility that the colonel may have stored stuff in Branson before he transferred to Oakdale. If that was the case, there was also the slight chance that the senator may have overlooked them.

As his pop drove, Leo nervously watched his dad loading the clip of his gun with bullets. He recalled the first moment he saw his father with the gun and what his father had said to him in the van that day. The more Leo considered this the more the subject began to grate on his nerves.

"Dad?"

"Yeah, Bud?" The clip made a loud clicking sound as Noah slipped another bullet under the spring.

"Would you reallyshoot a cop?"

Noah glanced over the back seat at him. "Not willingly."

"But… if one got in the way… tried to take me or Pop?"

"Leo, there is only one acceptable reason to kill somebody. And that's in self defense."

Leo saw it then in his father's eyes. The truth. He didn't like it.

Noah sighed, placing the gun in the glove compartment and turning back around. "What's troubling you, Kid?"

"It's just… I mean… don't you care?"

"Leo, please don't-" Luke tried but Noah stopped him with a hand on Luke's shoulder.

"Luke," Noah said, apparently unfazed. "He has a right to ask these questions."

"They're just guys doing their job, Dad." Leo continued, avoiding eye contact. "What if they've got kids at home? Kids like me?"

His dad's eyes darkened and he flinched at Leo's words. "Leo… I've tried to explain why-"

"You've explained why you lied!" Leo felt his voice getting louder, a sickening mix of fear and anger rising up all of a sudden. It was as though he'd simply held these feelings at bay for as long as he could. Like a volcano, mixing and swirling and expanding under the earth, to suddenly and unexpectedly erupt at the strangest time. "You never explained about the whole killing people part!"

"Leo, your dad's not going to shoot anybody," Luke said.

Leo met his pop's eyes in the rear view mirror. "That's not what he said!" Leo shook his head and glared back at Noah. "Hesaid he'd kill to protect us! Well fucking great! He starts shooting people and then he gets killed and… and you… and… and then I'm… I'm…"

Leo couldn't even say it. He couldn't even contemplate a world without either Pop or Dad in it. During this outburst, he looked away so they wouldn't see his tears. He was angry at himself for crying.

Only girls cry!

But when he lifted his head back up, he was shocked to find his dad was crying, too.

And so was his pop.

Noah opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly Luke's eyes widened and he shouted, "Noah!"

Noah's head whipped round to face the front.

Through the windscreen, a few miles down the straight country road, their eyes locked on a police roadblock too late for them to turn around without being noticed.

"What do we do?" Luke asked, knuckles clenching around the steering.

Leo sat back in the seat; bracing himself.

Noah stared at the flashing lights of the two parked police cruisers, as they drove the Ford steadily closer. A police office was waving his arm to direct them off the road; and into the emergency lane. Noah said nothing; quickly rolled down his window as though getting ready to speak to the man.

Then suddenly, Noah yelled, "Floor it!"

"What?" Luke screamed.

"I said floor it!"

Luke hesitated only a second and then kicked his foot flat, sending the car screeching forward. The officers on the scene were caught completely off guard. But Leo was shocked with how quickly they responded.

Bullets rained into the car, smashing the windows in showers of tiny sparkling shards, as the car raced passed the blockade.

Leo screamed.

"Get down! Get down!" He felt his dad's hand on his shoulder pushing him hard to the floor boards.

Leo held his arms over his ears and gripped the back of this head with his hands. He'd never felt fear like this. His blood ran fast and ice cold and his breath shortened. His hearing seemed to fall into his head and made his heartbeats echo inside his brain.

They were driving at startling speed. He could hear his fathers screaming at each other, but was too terrified to make out what they were saying. Then he heard the siren and he realized they were in a car chase just like 'Grand Theft Auto'... only this was real

We're gonna die. The police are shooting at us!

The car suddenly bumped and groaned as they left the tar and headed up an old dirt track. The road twisted and turned and threw Leo all over the back floor and seat of the car. He screamed and cried and begged for it to stop.

Everything was blurred and flashing and painful and too damn fast; like a fairground ride he just wanted to get off.

Eventually, he heard an almighty bang. It was so loud and went on for so long that he risked lifting his head to peer out the back window and see what it was. The police cruiser had ramped up a steep bank, rolled and ended up spinning on its roof.

"Go, go, go!" Noah yelled at Luke.

"Fuck!" Luke repeated over and over, foot still flat on the accelerator. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

"Leo?" His dad checked, turning almost 90 degrees in his seat to peer over the back. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Leo croaked; and then winced as a sharp sting stabbed his ribs. Suddenly, he could feel every painful breath and he wanted to cough but found he had no power to do so.

However, even then he didn't start to panic until he saw the horrified look his dad was giving him.

"Leo?" Noah screamed his name; scrambling all long limbed over and between the two seats. "Leo!"

Luke risked a quick look away from the road only to yell, "Oh God, no!"

The car swerved, as Luke lost concentration and he slammed on breaks to steady them to a stop; quickly releasing the seatbelt and twisting to kneel on the seat.

"No… oh no… please… oh no… oh no…" Noah kept repeating words like a mantra under his breath; pressing his shirt down hard against Leo's chest.

When did he take off his shirt?

Leo wanted to ask what was wrong and for his dad to please stop hurting him so much, but his voice wouldn't come out. His throat burned dry.

"Oh God, Baby! I'm so sorry!" Luke gasped.

Sorry for what, Pop?

His hearing went first. He could tell his parents were yelling at each other and at him. But he couldn't make out any sounds. He decided he was too tired anyway and his eyelids were heavy. He gave up and let them them drop closed and black out the world.

...

Marshfield, Wisconsin, Police Roadblock, 2019

Adrian crouched beside the flattened tire of the police cruiser; shot out by Mayer as the getaway car burst through the blockade. He knew from a recent phone call that the second cruiser could be found a few miles south. But there was no point going there. The fugitives were, once again, long gone.

"Fuck!" he cried out, slamming the roof of the cruiser with his fist. "How are they doing this? How do they keep slipping past us?"

"Well… this was a little more than plain slipping." Blithe jabbed with a wry smile.

Williams glared at him. "Not helping, Archie!"

"You gotta admit… these kids got some gumption! Not everybody would try to run a police road block."

"It's not everybody, who would assassinate a room full of people either!"

He turned his back on Blithe and pulled his cell from his pocket to place the call he dreaded. As Adrian took his grilling, Blithe pretended to be examining the scene.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Agent Williams?" The voice on the other end of the line was saying, "I was willing to accept your first error in letting Snyder go as a fluke! But this is the third time you've allowed them to get ahead of you!"

As FBI Deputy Director, Agent Stanley Marsh continued his tirade, Adrian couldn't help but think how funny it was that Marsh felt he could judge Adrian now, when in 2008 Marsh hadn't been able to do much of a better job.

"One minute you have them, then you don't, then you do again! Which one is it?"

"At the moment…" Adrian sighed. "We don't have them, Sir."

"What about that tail you had on Grimaldi? I thought he was due to meet Snyder?"

Shit!

"I'm sorry Agent Marsh. It would seem Grimaldi anticipated our move to have him followed. He used himself as a decoy. Somebody else must have met with the fugitives."

Marsh was silent for a long time. In his mind, Adrian imagined the man's face, twisted in anger.

"You are making a mockery of this office, Agent Williams! Your work on this case has been amateur to say the least!" Another long silence fell as Marsh let that sink in. "Three days, Agent Williams! That's all you have! Bring me their heads or I'm taking you off this case! And you can spend the rest of your career shuffling papers in Butte! Do I make myself clear?"

Crystal.

In the early days of the FBI under J. Edgar Hoover, popular lore had it that agents who botched a job risked exile to the bureau's remote field office in Butte, Montana. That office actually closed in 1989, but the threat stuck and maintained its meaning.

"Yes, Sir." The last time Adrian could remember being so reprimanded was when he was 16 and stole a bottle of his dad's favorite brandy. He surveyed his surroundings; pocketed his phone and turned back to Blithe. "What are we missing, Archie?"

"Two and a half men," Blithe joked.

Adrian actually smiled. Sometimes, he realized, it felt good to drop the control and laugh. Blithe was starting to teach him that.

"Well, we have learnt one thing from all of this," the old man said in an attempt to offer some hope.

"What's that?" Adrian asked.

"These boys have been getting help from Grimaldi. And we can now assume it was Grimaldi who sprung them back in 2009, though I doubt anybody could prove it."

"True," Adrian agreed. "And we know that they met with somebody here in Marshfield."

Adrian paused and tapped his chin for a moment. Then he pulled out his cell and punched a few numbers.

"Agent Moore?" he asked into the phone. "Got another job for you. See if you can find a Grimaldi connection to any of the businesses in the area of Marshfield, Wisconsin."