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By the time someone else finally entered the basement, Major had paced back and forth so much he thought he might have worn a groove in the cement floor. Tammy had paced with him, clearly agitated by the presence of Jeff's body. Major had pulled the body to a corner, but it would start to smell soon—already did, really—and so would Roche's, but then, that was hardly something to worry about compared to being locked in here and knowing that Liv might already be dead.

He had done his best, hadn't he? He had tried to get her out, tried to convince her to think about herself and the people who loved her. Maybe he had gone about it in a heavy-handed way, without asking her, but if he had asked her he wouldn't have even gotten her out of her apartment building, much less out of Seattle.

When the basement door opened, he braced himself. One of the brain tubes had mostly taken care of the bullet Russ Roche had left him with, but he was still hardly in peak condition, and god only knew who had come here.

The man who walked down the basement steps was a total stranger to him. He stopped at the bottom and looked at Major, his face blank.

Major raised his eyebrows. "Something I can get for you? I've got a pretty well-stocked larder back here."

"Uh … no, thanks. Renegade sent me."

"Renegade—Oh. Is she— What happened?"

"She turned herself in."

Major closed his eyes, not wanting to see the guy's face when he asked the next question. "Is she dead?"

"Not yet. They're—your people are executing her tomorrow."

Opening his eyes, Major grasped the bars. "Please get me out of here. Fillmore Graves—they're not really my people anymore. I tried to get her out of there, but … you know her. You know she wouldn't have let someone else die for her. Please, help me get there before it's too late to—too late to save her." His voice broke on the last words.

The guy's face didn't change, but he nodded. "She told me to tell you she understands, and she forgives you."

Forgave him. For trying to save her life. If he ever laid a hand on her again, he wasn't sure if he wanted to hug her or shake her. Maybe both. "How fast can we get back to Seattle?"

"Fast enough."

As the guy unlocked the gate, Major grabbed his brain tubes, and upstairs, collected his stuff as quickly as possible.

The guy was waiting for him outside, leaning against the hood of Major's car.

"Thanks," Major said to him.

"Orders." The guy hesitated.

Major leaped at the opening. If there was any way he and Renegade's outfit could join forces … "Look, if there's a plan— You have to let me help. I love that woman enough to give up everything else in my life to keep her alive. I want to make sure she doesn't get killed tomorrow. If that's what you and your people want, let's work together."

There was a silence, and then the guy gave a quick nod. "We're pretty shaken up. Haven't managed to come up with anything yet. You have a plan?"

"I think so. The beginnings of one, anyway." They worked through Major's idea quickly before getting into their separate cars and beginning the drive back to Seattle. Roche's car was gone with Liv, and Major tried not to think about Roche and Jeff dead in the basement and Tammy still shambling back and forth in the locked area. He should have taken care of her before he left, but, like Jeff, he hadn't had the heart.

The miles rolled by, their rhythm saying "too late" over and over in Major's head. They had gone by so much faster, the tires sounding so much more cheerful, on the way out of Seattle. Then he had been with Liv; he'd had something to look forward to. Now … now all he had left was fear.

Eventually, Major stopped off at a cheap motel. Once he'd checked in, he locked himself in the room and called Ravi. Their conversation was brief—Ravi, Peyton, and Clive were going to see Liv and try to say goodbye. Next, he called Jordan, who had left the house to go check on her brothers. Apparently Fillmore Graves had remembered their existence after all, and they were no longer in the dorms.

"Where are you?" she asked.

"You remember that terrible horse-themed motel where we busted the Dead Enders?"

"It wasn't so bad."

Which was a total lie. But that didn't matter now. "Listen, I need you to do something for me."

"Okay."

He explained. Jordan hesitated, but, as Major had hoped she would, decided that she owed him enough to do what he was asking her to do.

Now, to wait. A sensible man might have tried to get some sleep, but how could he sleep with Liv's clock counting steadily down?

He did some push-ups, flipped some channels, did some more push-ups, and counted the minutes, which ticked by with agonizing slowness and dizzying speed, simultaneously.