"Check, Daddy," Andrew said.

Shane looked down at the chess board and realized that Andrew had moved his rook to D4 and taken Shane's pawn. Not really thinking, Shane moved a knight into a defensive position in front of the king.

"You don't want to do that," Andrew warned. The warning took Shane by surprise; his son sounded a lot older than five-years-old.

Shane shrugged. He had removed his hand from the knight. "Too late, I guess." The reality was that he had barely been paying attention to the game. Kim had gone to learn the results of the DNA tests and Shane's thoughts were focused much more on what was happening at the Brady Fish Market than on the chess game.

"Okay," Andrew said, laughing. He lifted his queen, slid her diagonally to D2, and removed Shane's knight. The queen was now immediately in front of Shane's king. None of Shane's other pieces were in position to take the queen and he could not move the king out of range. His only option would be to take the queen with his king, which would then leave his king to be taken by Andrew's rook. Andrew grinned triumphantly. "Check mate."

Shane raised his arms in surrender. "You got me," he said lightly. "You know . . . if I knew you'd become such a chess-shark, I'd have stuck to checkers." He smiled as Andrew giggled, then said, "Okay, why don't you help me pack up the board and you can tell your mother later how you crushed me."

As Andrew hopped off his chair and began putting the chess pieces in a box, the doorbell rang. Shane reached for his cane, but he heard Eve call out from the foyer.

"I've got it," she shouted.

An instant later, Roman raced into the library. Shane's good friend nervously scanned the room. His face was coated in sweat and he seemed unable to keep still. In Shane's mind, he flashed back to a stormy night, years earlier, when John Black had sought Shane's help while running from Victor.

Shane grabbed his cane and pulled himself to his feet. "Roman, what is it?"

Roman spotted Andrew and then looked at Shane, who got the message.

"Eve," Shane said to his daughter, who had come into the library after Roman. "Would you take Andrew upstairs to your rooms and. . . ." Shane eyed Roman, who nodded. "And stay there until I tell you it's okay to come out."

"Daddy, what's wrong?" Eve asked.

Shane did not have time to argue. "Just trust me, Eve. Take Andrew upstairs and stay there." He looked at Andrew, who was still holding the half-filled box. "You can leave the pieces there. I'll take care of them later. I need you to go with your sister."

With a frown, Eve walked over to Andrew, took the box from his hand and set it down on the tray table they had been using for the game. "Come on, Andrew. Why don't you show me your new video game?" He was obviously confused, but he did not say anything when Eve took his hand and led him out of the library.

Shane turned his attention to his friend. "Okay, Roman-"

"Don't call me that!" Roman shouted, his voice anguished. "I . . . I don't even know if that's my name."

Shane felt sick inside. Obviously, the test results had come back. "Look, I told you it doesn't matter. Whether your Roman Brady, John Black, or whatever name you choose, you're still my friend."

"Well your friend needs your help," Roman said, running a hand through his hair. "The ISA wants to take me into custody. They tried to grab me at Ma and . . . at the market, but I got away."

Shane shuddered. If the ISA was after Roman, they would almost certainly come here. Shane and Roman's friendship was well known within the agency. The big question was how much time did they have.

"Simmons." Shane called for the butler, who appeared an instant later. "Keep an eye on the front of the house for any approaching vehicles." As Simmons left the room to do as instructed, Shane turned to Roman. "Now tell me what you need."

Roman paced across the room. "What I need? I need a way out of this, partner. I don't even know what's going on, just that they're telling me I'm not who I think I am and they're assuming I'm an imposter."

"The ISA can't come in here without a warrant, so you can stay here as long as you need to." Shane leaned against his cane as he tried to think of what else he could do.

Shaking his head, Roman said, "I can't do that. That's putting you and your kids in danger."

Roman was right. And, at best, it was a temporary delaying tactic. The ISA could get a warrant if necessary. They would plant agents on the doorstep to make sure Roman did not sneak away in the interim.

"And you'd be harboring a fugitive," Roman pointed out. "I doubt the judge in your case would like that."

"I don't give a damn about the blasted judge," Shane said. "I'm not just going to sit by and let the ISA drag you off." Thinking, Shane walked over to the wall opposite the desk and pulled back the wall panel, exposing the safe. He turned the dials and, when the safe's mechanism clicked, opened the door. He felt inside the safe for a moment until he found what he was looking for - an envelope that he removed and tossed to Roman. "There's some money, which should help."

Shane thought for a minute. He doubted it would be much longer. The other places the ISA would be likely to check were Marlena's, Isabella's, and Abe's. And if they covered multiple places at once, they could be at the house in any minute.

"We need to get you out of here." Shane looked to the door and called for Simmons.

The butler reappeared in the doorway. "Sir? I have seen no vehicles yet."

"I know, but they could be here in a flash," Shane said. He pursed his lips. Yes. That might do it. "Simmons, do you have the keys to my car?"

"Of course, sir," Simmons answered.

"Give them to Roman. . . . No, wait." For a moment, Shane debated having Simmons drive Roman, but there was too much a chance that the ISA would search any car leaving the house. But then Shane had an inspiration. How many times had he used the ploy to escape the house after his arrest? He turned to Roman. "Go out the lakeside and circle around through the neighbor's. You can hide in the bushes until you have an opening and can get to the car."

Roman looked confused. "What car?"

Shane grinned and looked at the butler. "Simmons, I want you to take my car. Maybe you can beat the ISA, but even if they arrive while you're leaving, they'll search it, but there won't be anyone inside. Roman can meet you around the corner on Newton St." He looked at Roman. "The ISA won't come from that direction." Returning to Simmons, Shane said, "Once you've gotten a few miles away, let Roman have the car."

Roman started to protest, but Shane stopped him. Instead, Shane explained how Roman could reach the rendevous point without being seen. "Trust me, if I can repeatedly evade a horde of journalists that way, you'll have no trouble evading the ISA."

"Shane," Roman began to protest again.

Shane would have none of it. "Go! Just do what I say. I'll do my best to stall them and give you some time to get some distance."

Simmons and Roman disappeared toward the kitchen. Shane just hoped Roman could get outside before the ISA arrived and positioned agents around the house. He wanted to go stand by the front door, watch Simmons leave, and wait for the ISA, but he knew better than to do anything that might indicate he was waiting for the authorities.

He took a deep breath and said a silent prayer that Roman got away. Looking at his watch, he saw that three minutes had passed. He checked the room to make sure there was nothing out-of-the-ordinary. The safe was closed, the wall-panel once again in place and giving no indication that there was anything behind it.

Shane looked at his watch again. Eight minutes. Roman would be near the property boundary by now. Was Simmons also gone? And where was the ISA? Shane knew them well enough. This house would be near the top of their list to check.

The thought had barely finished before someone pounded loudly at the door.

About bloody time.

Taking his cane, Shane started for the foyer. "Coming," he shouted as loud as he could. The good thing was that his injury gave him an excuse to move slowly, which hopefully could buy Roman even more time to escape. Every second counted at a time like this.

He opened the door to see Tarrington with several ISA agents behind him. "Shane," Tarrington said.

"What are you doing here, Tarrington?" Shane growled, trying to sound as annoyed as possible. "You're not welcome here."

"This isn't a social call," Tarrington replied. "Where is the man you know as Roman Brady?"

Shane feigned ignorance. "I thought you were all at the Bradys. Why would you think-"

"Search the house," Tarrington ordered, cutting Shane off.

"Now wait a minute!" Shane shouted. "This is private property. You need a warrant-" His words were cut off as the agents rushed forward. Two grabbed Shane and shoved him against a wall. He lost hold of his cane, which clattered against the wood floor as it fell.

Shane tried to break the grip of the men holding him, but he was not close to being strong enough.

"Tarrington, call off your dogs," Shane shouted, but Tarrington was busy giving instructions to the agents, who spread out throughout the house. One headed for the library, another for the kitchen, and two started for the stairs. They all drew their guns.

Shane's blood ran cold. Eve, Andrew, and Jeannie were upstairs.

"My kids are up there," Shane yelled, exhausting his breath. He struggled weakly, against the agents who held him back, but it was a futile effort. "Dammit, Tarrington," he gasped. "It's just my kids."

Tarrington turned and faced Shane. "Where is Roman Brady?"

"I don't know," Shane said. "He's not here."

From the upstairs, Shane heard Eve shriek and Jeannie start to wail. Fear for his children gave him a burst of adrenalin. He jerked his right arm free and brought his elbow back into the solar plexus of the ISA agent holding that side. The man doubled over with an "ooof."

It was not enough, though. The other agent slammed Shane against the wall so hard that his head swam.

"That was not very smart, Shane," Tarrington said. He motioned toward the library. "Take him in there and keep him there until we've finished the search."

The agents dragged Shane into the room and shoved him onto the couch. His chest was on fire, his heart was racing, and each breath was a struggle to capture some air. But he was less focused on himself than on his children. He heard Eve shout something from upstairs and started to rise, but the agent pushed him back.

"Bloody hell," Shane growled angrily. "Those are my kids up there."

"They won't be hurt. . . ." Tarrington entered the library as he spoke. "Provided you cooperate and tell me where we can find the man you knew as Roman Brady."

Shane shook his head. Not only did he have to stall to give Roman more time, but the last thing he was going to do was help Tarrington. "I'm not telling you a thing until I see I my children."

With a bit of an eye-roll, Tarrington nodded to one of the agents. A few minutes later, he heard footsteps on the staircase and Andrew rushed into the library. Eve came in behind him, carrying Jeannie.

"Daddy!" Andrew cried, racing forward.

Shane pulled him into a tight embrace. "It's okay," he said. Then he looked at Eve. "Are you okay?"

She gave a quick nod, but her eyes darted nervously from Tarrington to the agents.

"Your children are fine, Shane," Tarrington said. He turned to the same agent. "Take them to the kitchen and keep them there while ex-Captain Donovan and I continue our conversation."

Eve's eyes widened as she looked at Shane. "Dad?"

"It'll be fine," he assured her, trying to hold back his anger. "Would you do as they ask, sweetheart? It'll be best if you all go into the kitchen."

Hesitantly, Eve said, "Okay. . . . Come on, Andrew."

As Andrew looked up, confused, Shane forced a soft smile that belied the fury rising in him. "It's all right. Go with your sister."

Dutifully, Andrew followed Eve and Jeannie from the room. Once they were gone, Shane glared at Tarrington. The man had invaded his house and terrified his kids, and Shane had been helpless to stop him. His rage continued to build even as Tarrington faced Shane.

"So, now, why don't you tell me what I want to know?"

Shane shook his head and, in a low voice that barely hid his fury, he said, "If you think I'm going to do a bloody thing to help you find Roman, you're going to be sorely disappointed."