Shipyards - Vladivostok, Russia

The dogs strained at their leashes leading their handlers straight up the gangplank of the cargo ship. The ship's captain backed away a few steps to let them pass. Mr. Hunter flashed his custom's official credentials and followed his team inside the cavernous hold. The dogs had gotten a good scent once they entered the shipyard area. All three dogs, muzzled to keep them quiet, had as one led them to the same ship.

For a few minutes they traveled through different areas of the ship's cargo hold until the dogs stopped and pawed at a closed door. Hunter and two others took point and the dogs were led away from the door. In practiced motion, they threw the door open wide and burst inside.

"Nothing here," said Hunter unable to hide the disappointment he felt. "Damn!"

One of his team began to inspect the room more closely. "She was here. I've got food wrappers and an empty bottle of water. And, she cleaned up the seat. Only a woman would do that." He proceeded to store the items inside a clear evidence bag.

"Why did I think this was going to be easy?" asked Hunter.

"They normally are, boss."

"Robin Sinclair is proving to be a challenge," said Hunter. "Sinclair said his wife was prepared for escape but I didn't believe him. Now I do."

"What's next?"

"With this we know she's still in the city. This scent has to be recent for it to be so strong, right?"

"Right."

"We'll reset our search quadrant starting from here," said Hunter. "She can't hide forever. She'll run out of money, resources or get sick. She's not a professional. We'll find her. Give the dogs a rest for a few hours. Then I want them back out. In the meantime, I need to report our progress to Sinclair."

Peter read the email draft of his orders for his paid agent in Port Charles. This was one part of the operation that was going well. For that he was content. His lips moved as he softly read:

Send latest news re: subject family ASAP. Find and ID grave site if possible. Report any increase in activity.

He clicked on an icon and sent the message off. There was a knock at the door. It was Mr. Hunter with Ben and Jerry behind him. They all trooped in.

"Dr. Sinclair, we have positive proof that your wife was previously on a freighter heading out," said Hunter.

"She's gone?" asked Sinclair rising but caught himself. "No, that can't be. The harbor is iced in." He sat back down.

"We believe she stayed on board for one or two nights. There was evidence of food, of being prepared as you suspected. She has enough money to buy food and water."

"Where would she have gotten it?" asked Peter. "Never mind. It can't last long. Did anyone on the ship see her?"

"No. That's surprising to me. Her size and lack of local language would be obvious."

"She stole the phone. She could steal money, too," pointed out Ben.

Hunter looked at the two guards. "Is it possible that she disguised herself?"

"Stealing clothes is harder but not impossible," said Jerry.

"I have an inventory of clothes and shoes missing from her belongings. With a long coat and a hat over those clothes, she could disguise herself from a distance. Has she used disguises before?"

Ben shook his head. "She only wears what Hilda gives her. Always."

"You are all sure that she has not friends or family in the area?" asked Hunter.

"Why do you ask?" asked Sinclair.

"Because the docks are a fair distance from here. She could have taken a bus or a cab to get there. Or she could have had help. Or stowed away on something and then found herself in the dock area," explained Hunter.

"I see no point in wondering how she got to the ship. We know her medication is twenty-four hours overdue. She will be feeling weak and disorientated. Give it one or two more days and she must seek help."

"Are you sure of that doctor? Could she have collected enough medication to use on her escape?"

"No. We watch in person or behind mirrors," said Jerry.

"What?" asked Hunter befuddled.

"My wife is capricious, Mr. Hunter. Sometimes when she is upset, she will refuse her medication or throw them away. For her own wellbeing, we monitor all the medication she takes," said Sinclair. "It is rather draconian of me to control her this way but I must, for her sake."

"I see. How long will she keep this up?"

"Not long. Her survival instinct is very strong but her body is needy," said Sinclair. "Because of her condition, she has had to live a regimented life. To eat and sleep at specific times. To rest often through the day. To expect her creature comforts on demand. She has none now. Her system has been removed from all that is familiar and necessary."

"How did you catch her the last time?"

"She made calls on a cell phone which we used to find her general location. She managed to enter a hospital but she collapsed before she could leave," said Sinclair. "Fortunately, one of our informants discovered her and contacted us immediately. I expect the same to occur now. Flush her out, Hunter. Make her run and run. Exhaust herself. Then we will have her."

Robin spread the city map over the kitchen counter. Her flashlight found the shipping docks where the cargo ship was moored. From there she tried to find familiar streets. After a few minutes, she had settled on a general area where she thought she was. She'd have to pay attention to street signs today. Her stomach grumbled.

"Okay, you're going to get fed. Give me a minute," said Robin. With her wool cardigan on over pants and thick socks, she was warm enough in the tiny flat. It was well-built and kept out most of the cold. "I'll take this over the ship any day of the week.

She rummaged through supplies she had laid out on the counter. She craved something hot but didn't dare risk a fire of any kind. Robin settled on the last of her sweet bread, cheese, a few slices of sausage and sunflower seeds. She ate while she continued to study the map. Occasionally, she looked up a word in her dictionary.

"Find something hot. Buy water and juice. Find a phone. Not necessarily in that order."

Munching on bread, she peered outside. She wouldn't venture out until she saw other people going to work or shopping. It was better to blend in with the citizens in groups or pairs than be seen alone, she thought. A few citizens straggled by in ones and twos. She'd wait a half hour then go out. She had to find a phone.