Gene Polanski, Male, 45

	- Business VP, husband of Tamara, father of Lauren, Finch, and Logan

	- tanned beige skin, 6'1, 210lbs, short peppered grey-black hair

Tamara Khouri-Polanski, Female, 43

	- Professor, wife of Gene, mother of Lauren, Finch, and Logan

	- dark olive skin, 5'6, 150lbs, shoulder-length curly rich brown hair with natural red highlights

Lauren Khouri-Polanski, Female, 15

	- High school freshman, daughter of Gene and Tamara, sister of Finch and Logan

	- medium olive skin, 5'8, 150lbs, back-length curly black-brown hair, colored white-streaked highlights

Finch Khouri-Polanski, Male, 14

	- Eigth-grader, son of Gene and Tamara, brother of Lauren and Logan

	- dark olive skin, 5'6, 145lbs, ear-length curly rich brown hair with natural red highlights

Logan Khouri-Polanski, Male, 12

	- Sixth-grader, son of Gene and Tamara, brother of Lauren and Finch

	- medium olive skin, 5'1, 110lbs, ear-length straight black hair

Holly, Female, 19

	- Agent of Marker 1, Sister of Anna

	- Bronze-tanned skin, 5'1, 100lbs, straight shoulder-length straw-blonde hair

Anna, Female, 22

	- Agent of Marker 1, Sister of Holly

	- Bronze-tanned skin, 5'2, 120lbs, straight shoulder-length straw-blonde hair

Wistin, Male, late-30s

	- Agent of Marker 1

	- Light brown skin, 5'10, 175lbs, short straight black hair

Sofija, Female, late-30s

	- Agent of Marker 1

	- Nutty-almond skin, 5'6, 145lbs, cropped dark-brown curly hair.

Panthea (Silk Purse), Female, early 50s

	- A woman with an unknown background

	- Brown-grey skin, 5'7, 140lbs, short curly black-silk hair

“Get up and move quickly, you two. Now!” Panthea's whispering voice was harsh and urgent. Finch shot out of bed, fully clothed, his brother following him. Sleep shot away as fear took over. He followed the woman into the kitchen where Lauren was crouched down, clearly nervous. Panthea ducked below the windows and motioned the boys to do likewise.

She drew the children close to her, said quickly, “something's not right. Stay down.”

Finch leaned against the counter next to his sister while the woman peered over the sink and looked out into the early-morning light. Whatever was wrong had Panthea very nervous as well.

The woman looked around, grabbed a heavy sack from the counter. “Take this.” She thrust the bag into Finch's hands. “Food. Supplies. We'll need it. We may need to make a run quickly. Be ready!”

Finch was nearly overcome with fright, his hand shaking, nearly fumbling the bag. Panthea wrapped her fingers around a long automatic rifle, kept it pointed out into the yard through the window. He heard the woman mumble, “don't think that's the help we expected.”

An explosion rocked the front yard, the house shuddering, pictures shattering as they fell from the walls. Panthea swore, “Goddammit!” She eyed Lauren, said firmly, “when I say run, you all run hard to the car. It's parked out the back door. Get in and be ready.” She pushed a pistol into Lauren's hand, twitched the safety off.

Another explosion knocked Finch onto the floor, his ears muffled and burning. He saw Panthea writhing in pain as the kitchen seemed to collapse around them. The woman was stunned only a moment, her rifle sputtering to life as she shot through the gaping hole in the house. Blood streamed from her shoulder and leg.

The kids pushed back together, huddled in the edge of the hallway as gunfire erupted somewhere outside. Finch heard impacts all around hm. Panthea coughed and wrenched, forgot her rifle a moment as she pressed a hand to neck. Blood sputtered through her fingers. The woman looked panicked, pale, and Finch was frozen with terror.

Panthea seemed to regain focus, again fired out into the yard, then turned quickly to the kids. “Go! Get to the car and go!”

Finch screamed, “go where?!”

“Map, in the glovebox, follow it. When you get there, give him the ring inside. He'll know what to do.”

Lauren was aghast. “You're coming, aren't you?”

Panthea let out another burst of fire, called back, “not like this... No.” She was clearly in pain, and blood continued to flow from her wounds. “No. Go! Run! I'll keep them off you as long as I can. Run!”

Finch's legs responded after what felt like hours. He led the way as Logan and Lauren ran behind him. They piled into the car, Finch up front in the passenger seat. Logan flew into the back while Lauren fired up the ignition.

“I don't know where to go!” Lauren looked stricken with fear.

Finch looked around, heard and felt another explosion, saw fire building along one corner of Panthea's house, splatters of gunfire pinging all around. He spotted overgrown ruts running down the back of the hill and pointed, “there!”

Lauren slammed the car into gear and punched the accelerator, angling the car toward the descending drive. Behind them, more explosions, and the fire was quickly gaining toward where Finch knew Panthea was probably dying. As the three kids fled into the morning, Finch was sure they would all be dead within minutes.

- - -

“We can't wait much longer. Hurry. Please.” Hannigan's voice was stressed as he stood watch near where Tamara attempted to void her bowels. Her stomach was in knots, her guts unwilling to move despite the discomfort.

She gave up after a few moments and pulled up her pants, let out an uncomfortable sigh. “Ok. Let's go.”

They moved on the small car parked alone near a dingy cafe. Hannigan was inside immediately and a few twisting motions below the dash had the crappy vehicle sputtering to life. Tamara slid into the passenger seat and they were in motion again.

It was the third time they'd changed vehicles already. Hannigan was paranoid about staying in the same one too long. It had been hours since they'd left the compound, and they'd made reasonably good time through Italy and most of Slovenia. The man had said they'd be approaching the border with Croatia soon, and he expected they'd need to ditch the car before they got there. A long walk would follow.

Tamara ached. Everywhere. Her body was cramping, dehydrated, fear and uncertainty made everything want to shut down. Thoughts of her family festered in her mind, and it took all of her remaining willpower to keep from crying.

“Well look at that. Lucky strike, this one.” Hannigan motioned toward the back seat. Tamara glanced and saw bottles of juice and two loaves of bread. “Eat, drink something. Could use some myself.”

Tamara handed him a bottle of what looked like pineapple juice and a broke off two hunks of bread. They ate and drank in silence as Hannigan raced across the mountains of Slovenia.

Tamara paused a moment to ask, “tell me again why we can't just drive through the border like we did coming into Slovenia?”

“Like I said, too much risk there. Unlike the last border, I know Playa has agents planted there. They've been looking for someone for weeks, not really certain who. They think the person is in Slovenia and expected them to head East. By now, they'll know about me. About us. And I don't expect they'd just wave us through. We'll have to ditch the car soon and hoof it for a few hours. I know a spot that should work. Let's hope they don't expect us there.”

Tamara nodded, accepted that answer as she returned to her bread. Her stomach stirred again, her bowels clenching and she found herself unable to finish the bite. She groaned and doubled over as pains racked her guts.

Hannigan was sympathetic. “Sorry, Tam. You'll get a chance to try again once we're on foot, I promise. Right now... we just gotta ignore it and push on.”

Her stomach gurgled and she felt swollen and raw. Tamara hoped the miles would pass by before her bowels decided they were ready to move. She groaned again and tried her best not to throw up.

- - -

Anna stood on the deck as the boat idled off the coast of Tunisia. She scanned ahead with a pair of thin binoculars. Gene could just make out the hint of a sandy rise above the shimmering water. “Looks like a good spot. Tell him to fire it up and beach us.”

Sofija set off toward the steerage, and Gene asked, “beach us?”

“Fastest way to get us where we need to be. We don't want to hang out long. This boat is hot, and by now, we're on more than a few radars. There is nothing we can do to hide our trail into Tunisia, but from there, we'll do everything we can to obscure our tracks.”

Holly squeezed Gene's hand, actually giggled. “Exciting! Never beached a pleasure boat before. This should be fun!”

Gene groaned, pushed Holly away from him. “You have serious adrenaline issues, Holly.”

“Oh, this is nothing. One time, I was parachuting with this guy from Russia. Tandem, you know, and we fucked in free fall. That was some serious adrenaline. Almost forgot to pull the cord I came so hard.”

Gene groaned again and walked to where the young Spanish girl was huddled against the bow. He stroked her hair, tried to make her feel calm. She looked quite pale despite her brown skin. Gene called back, “what are we going to do with her?”

Holly replied, “blindfold her and leave her.”

“Blindfold? Why?”

“The less she knows about where we go from here... the better for everyone, including her.”

Gene nodded and tried to smile at the girl. The resulting smirk certainly did nothing to help the frightened teen calm down.

Anna drew everyone but Wistin onto the deck and shouted over the racing engines and pounding spray, “This might get a bit rough, but we're going to punch the boat up the shore and get the fuck off it.” She eyed the teen. “Blindfold her now. Tie her hands so she can't take it off. When we stop, we run inland and quick! We're somewhere just south of Kelibia. We need to secure some wheels and move West. From there... we'll figure it out.” Anna glanced out toward the rapidly approaching shore. “Grab the gear and get set against the bow. Like I said, this might be a bit rough.”

- - -

“Why are we stopping?”

Lauren pulled the car over to the side of the narrow road. It took several seconds before she could loosen her tight grip on the steering wheel and put the car in park. Finch's question hung a moment before she answered. “I need to pee.”

She leaned back and opened the bag Panthea had given them before they'd left in the middle of the firefight. Logan had rummaged through it already, found bread, cheese, and bottles of water. There were some other supplies as well, including toilet paper. Lauren grabbed the roll and headed down the back a few feet before unzipping her pants and squatting down.

She'd just started relieving herself when splatters to her left drew her attention. Logan had his small penis out, urine streaming out and onto the grass. “Jesus, Logan. You could have gone down that way a bit.”

The twelve-year old shrugged and continued to pee. Her eyes continued to dart to where his young cock sprayed urine, unable to avoid looking at her brother's dick. Lauren sighed, finished her piss, and wiped quickly. She pulled her soiled panties up, cringed, wished she had a clean pair, then returned her pants to her waist and got back to the car.

Finch had the trunk open, said, “look at all this!”

Lauren peered in, saw blankets, towels, a tent, cases of canned food and gallons of water, boxes of unknown items. And a gun. A compact automatic rifle sat on a blanket next to a heavy, dark-green canister of ammunition. Finch started to take the gun. Lauren stopped him. “No! Leave it... jeez, Finch. That's dangerous. Just leave it...” She hesitated. “No... on second thought. Ok. We might need it... Promise me Finch... promise me you'll be careful. Here.” She took the gun from where he slowly drew it out of the trunk.

Finch watched as she turned it over in her hands. Lauren found the safety, showed him how to turn it on and off. She eyed the ammo can, opened it, pulled out a clip and slammed it into the gun. “Safety's on right now. Only turn that off when I tell you, ok? Only then... Bring the rest of the ammo too.”

Finch nodded and cradled the gun, picked up the canister and got into the passenger seat.

Logan was already inside when Lauren sat down. She assured herself that the pistol was still next to her, gripped it a moment before turning the engine over and starting back down the road.

Though the map was in French, Finch had been a decent navigator and managed to get them going on the lined route Panthea had drawn on. They were roughly halfway to their destination, a town near the Swiss border called Laufenburg. An address there was in the nearby margin, along with a name, “Dr. Henderson.”

Lauren hoped that whatever awaited them was more help than that which had arrived that morning at Panthea's house.

- - -

“Goddammit!” Gene growled as the boat's motor hung too low to easily power over the shallow water, again and again churning through the sandy bottom.

He heard Anna scream, “hang on!” before the sounds of crunching met his body being forced against the forward railing. It was over in seconds, but the impact left Gene without breath a moment.

Holly was already moving, slinging a rope ladder over the side and hustling over, gear slung over her shoulder. Sofija followed. Anna motioned Gene to move and he forced his aching body to rise and follow. He cast one look back at the frightened bound and blindfolded teen before slipping over the side and hustling up the beach.

There were many people on the beach watching with concern and interest as the five of them sprinted up the sand and into the dunes. Anna took the lead and within minutes they had gotten inland a half-mile or so, pausing a moment to get their bearings.

Anna had a small map out, her mind forming a quick plan. “There's a lot over there. We get a car now, head West. We'll swap vehicles once we get into Manzil Tamim. Ok, move!”

Holly sprinted ahead, and by the time the rest made the small, poorly maintained parking lot, she had a large truck waiting, tailpipe spewing thick, dark smoke. Wistin and Sofija slid into the cab while Anna and Gene jumped into the bed. Holly was laughing when she called out the window, “hang on, Gene! Let's see how fast this thing can move!”

- - -

Tamara's feet were quite sore by the time Hannigan signaled that they'd walked far enough. She'd managed to relieve herself, finally, a couple of hours earlier, but the lack of toilet paper had made each step leave her feeling more and more raw. The shoes she wore didn't fit well, and after the miles of walking through the heavy trees, well away from the vehicle border crossings, blisters were making each step more and more painful.

Hannigan sat down the bag of supplies he'd kept slung over his shoulder and settled his back against a tree, suggested that she do the same. Tamara sunk down and took off her shoes, massaged her feet through the thick wool socks which did little to cushion the discomfort.

The man eyed her a moment before leaning closer and pushing her hands away. Hannigan's fingers were magic on her ankles and soles. Tamara leaned back and relaxed as he massaged her, seemed to know how to avoid the blisters, working away days of tension and pain which had threatened to overwhelm her.

As he worked over her feet, he said, “we'll stop here tonight. Dark soon, don't want to chance getting lost. No fire, so it's going to get chilly. I've got a couple of blankets, hopefully that will help.”

Tamara groaned, half from the pleasure of the massage, half from the thought of spending the night out in the dark, cold mountains.

Hannigan raised his head, listened a moment. Tamara grew concerned, “what is it? What's out there?”

“I hear a stream. That's good, we're running low on water. Could use a wash, how about you?”

Tamara nodded.

“Let's clean up. Gonna be cold water, but better than nothing, eh?”

He led the way after she put her shoes back on over her tender feet. The massage had helped a lot, but it did nothing to ease the swelling blisters. Hannigan found the stream easily and despite the chilly air, quickly removed his clothes and stood naked, shivering as he used a cloth to clean his body.

He'd tossed Tamara a second rag, but she hesitated, watching him wipe away hours of filth and sweat. She watched his cock, shriveled in the cold air and water, remembered how much she'd enjoyed the man cumming inside her.

She shook away her thoughts and shed her sticky clothing, was freezing even before she approached the water. Hannigan's eyes glanced her way often as she tried to clean her most sensitive areas. The cold water on her crotch brought both relief and discomfort. Tamara could take no more after a few moments and finished the job quickly. She hated putting her filthy clothing back on, but it beat standing around in the rapidly-cooling air.

Hannigan led them back to where they'd dropped their packs and gathered leaves and moss, forming a bed. “Opposed to snuggling tonight? Gonna be pretty cold...”

“Sure... of course.” Tamara watched as he draped an oversized blanket over the bed of foliage and crawled onto one side, grabbing his pack and motioning her to join him. Tamara slid in and Hannigan threw the second blanket over them. It was still cold, but having the man's warmth would go a long way toward keeping her more comfortable.

Hannigan drew out a hard, crusty bread which had been smashed in its brown sack, along with a bag of raisins. Tamara ate in silence, eating as much as he offered. Her stomach had been empty for hours, and after relieving herself earlier, she'd started to daydream about food. They didn't have much, only managing to steal a few items during their trip, but at least they had enough for that night.

They sipped water, and Tamara's yawns got the better of her. Hannigan pulled their packs over and laid his head down on one. Tamara did the same. Not comfortable, to be sure, but not terrible either. His body pressed into hers, the warmth welcome and comforting, and as she drifted off, he wrapped an arm over her and pulled her tighter to him.

- - -

“I don't know, Finch! Fuck!” Lauren's harsh reply to Finch's question made Logan tense.

They'd arrived in Laufenburg to find that they had no idea how to get to Dr. Henderson. The map didn't show the city's streets, and they hadn't dared to ask anyone for directions. They sat parked near a small furniture store on the outskirts of town, unsure what to do.

Logan looked around and found that his body felt alive again. His energy was at an all-time high. After escaping from Panthea's hillside home amid a rain of bullets and explosions, he'd felt drained within moments, and most of the ride had lulled him into a dozy state. But getting here, so close to the mysterious rendezvous with Dr. Henderson, had recharged him.

Logan wondered if he'd wear an eyepatch, or maybe a cape. He sounded like a good guy, he supposed, maybe he'd have bionic arms, like some of his favorite comic book heroes.

He felt his bladder straining, said, “I need to pee.”

Lauren let out an exasperated groan, said, “check inside, maybe they have a bathroom. But be quick! We'll be right here. Hurry, Logan!”

His sister and brother picked up their argument as Logan headed into the store. A few people milled around furniture displays as he tried to find a bathroom. An tall older man with glasses saw him and walked up, spoke in a language he didn't understand.

When Logan didn't reply, the man tried again, then said, “speak English?” Logan nodded.

“Ah, good. How can I help you, young man?”

“Uh... bathroom?”

“Sure, just back there, beyond that desk.”

Logan hustled in and relieved himself. He stared at his own penis as he peed, still a bit in awe of how it got hard for no reason. He automatically started to stroke himself as his urine stopped, then Lauren's voice screamed in his head to hurry up. He managed to put away his little cock and headed toward the front of the store.

“Nope, never been there,” said a man speaking English in a very thick accent. “Show me.”

An older couple stooped over the counter, the woman's finger drawing along the surface. “Just here,” she said, her accent sounded British and was much easier to understand. “Not too far, dearie.”

The man nodded, said, “will have there in an hour, fine?”

“Fine, thanks dear.”

Logan paused as the couple left the store and the man retreated into an office. The boy glanced to the counter, saw a torn, folded map, and snatched it without a second thought. He raced out of the store and jumped into the car, where Lauren and Finch looked ready to throw punches.

“Look at this!” Logan interjected.

Lauren paused just long enough to glance back, stopped in mid-sentence to recognize the map in Logan's hand. She snatched it, looked it over. “It's Laufenberg. Logan, great job!”

Logan grinned, felt quite proud of his cleverness. Lauren fired up the car as Finch quickly found the right road and devised a route. Logan wondered, not for the first time, if Lauren would let him touch her boobs as his reward.

- - -

Tamara woke and flipped back the blanket. She had kept it over her, and despite the cold air, the heavy cover and Hannigan's warmth had made her sweat. She took a few breaths and felt the dream slipping away. She'd been spooning with Gene, his cock in her vagina, slowly fucking. Tamara thought Lauren was there, too, her daughter's warm body pressed against her front as her husband slowly fucked her. Why Lauren? Why is that such a turn on?

She couldn't shake the arousal, let her hand play behind her to Hannigan. He snored softly, head under the blanket, oblivious to her movements. Still stuck with the dream, she teased his thigh before letting her fingers draw down his zipper. Tamara pulled his flaccid penis through the gap in his boxers and slowly stroked it against her ass.

Tamara let him go a moment, pushed her pants and underwear down to her knees, pushed back again and found his cock growing hard. She bent forward slightly, pushed her ass back, and teased the tip of his penis with her labia.

Hannigan stirred and his body instinctively sought to find her hole. His arm slid over her hip while his hot dick slipped into her sweaty, slippery pussy. Tamara gasped as he penetrated her, his large penis filling her deeply. He groaned at the contact, slowly moving in and out of her body.

Tamara's hand slid between her thighs, found her clit hard and straining. She moved her hips gently back and forth as Hannigan thrust into her. It took only a moment for her to roll back and join him in a kiss as she orgasmed around his cock.

His movements became stronger, his penis swelling. He groaned and she felt warmth spread inside her vagina. He ejaculated slowly, semen rushing out to fill her hole. They moaned together as his seed splashed inside her before he had completely drained himself.

They kissed again as his dick withdrew and grew soft. Semen flowed out of her vagina as they lay panting a moment. Tamara pulled her pants up as Hannigan tucked his cock back into his own. They kissed a bit more before she curled up again and he wrapped himself around her. They flipped the blanket back over their heads and settled in to try to sleep out the rest of the dark, chilly night.

- - -

“Japan might fall.”

Gene spit out the bitter black coffee he'd been sipping in an open-air cafe somewhere in Southern Tunisia. “What?”

Anna continued. “US committed troops to the peninsula but the North Koreas were working a feint. They really wanted Japan and right now a couple of millions troops are overwhelming the main island and several of the smaller ones. Seems it caught everyone off-guard. They have help. The Chinese are in on it, possibly others.”

Holly added, “dunno why anyone would be surprised. They've been training landings for the last six years. Where else would they put that to use?”

Anna grunted. “Not surprised they wanted to, surprised they had the balls to go all in. This is a serious invasion. All or nothing. They fail in Japan and they're screwed. They must have a few million Chinese on the peninsula to keep the South and US occupied long enough to pull it off.”

Gene shook his head, thought about friends and colleagues he knew were Japan. “Jesus...”

“That's not all. Playa Gorda looks to be openly supporting it, too, and they're up to something in Brazil. A whole new front may be opening in South America. Just a matter of time before that shitstorm hits hard. Dunno where Playa got the manpower or the funding, but it looks like they've become a major player overnight in this mess. Goddamnit, Victor. I fucking know he had a hand in this.”

Anna's disgust was obvious. Gene studied her face, dark lines around her eyes and mouth. She looked much older than her twenty-two years, and her grandfather's betrayal seemed to have aged both the sisters in just a few days.

Gene let out a breath. “So what now?”

They had paused in a town called Rjim Maatoug, a rundown place resting on the edge of hundreds of miles of the Sahara Desert. They stopped late that night long enough for Anna to make contact with M1. Jesus had finally surfaced, didn't apologize for his lack of response earlier, didn't explain his absence. He filled in Anna with the latest intel. He offered little that brought them hope.

“M1 is tied up, can't offer us any assets right now.” She exhaled slowly. “We have two options. There's an old compound, a couple of hundred miles West of here, in the Sahara. Only a few of us know about it, can't even be sure anyone is still manning it. Our... father set it up decades ago. Doubt anyone would find us there, but there's a big risk that we'll end up at a dead end.”

Wistin asked curtly, “and the other option?”

“Libya.”

“Jesus, Anna. You know we can't do that. Victor's people have to be crawling all over the safe house there. He set it up himself, personally handled the staffing. That's suicide.”

“Perhaps. I have reason to believe we have allies there.”

“Reasons?”

“Good reasons.”

Wistin's face showed his anger. “Fuck you, Anna. Out with it.”

She paused, chewed her words. “I know someone there. At least... she was there a few weeks ago.”

“So, who?”

Anna's eyes darted to Holly and the younger blonde's head tilted, eyes widening.

“Mom.”

Gene tried to listen patiently, but he was growing agitated. “Anna... fuck, can we trust her? No offense, really, but after Victor...”

“I... I think so.”

Wistin interrupted. “Not good enough.”

The table was silent a moment.

Holly said in a voice much smaller than normal, “I dunno. She... she was always close to Victor... to her dad. I... I can't be sure what she'd do if we showed up there.”

Wistin slammed his fist onto the table. “That settles it. We can't go there. Let's get moving for Sahara.”

For once, the decisiveness and calm usually displayed by Anna and Holly had disappeared, they looked for a moment like to lost, frightened young girls.

Gene spoke up. “I agree. If we can buy some time in the desert, just to get our bearings, let's do that. We can always go to Libya if we can figure out where the loyalties lie.”

Anna nodded, the fire returned to her face. “Fine. The desert. Twenty minutes. Holly, you know what we need. Make it happen. I need to send a couple of messages. Wistin, find us a vehicle that can make the trek. Sofija, food and water. Gene, take this.” She thrust a wad of an unknown currency into his fist. “Get us batteries. I don't fucking care what kind, buy them all. Go with Holly, she'll show you where. Move, people. Twenty minutes, right back here.”

- - -

Lauren barely kept her foot on the accelerator as she crept up the long, steep driveway. They'd found the right house, thanks to Logan's opportunistic grab and Finch's navigation skills. The darkness had made it difficult. Homes weren't marked as clearly as they were in the US, but they'd found it.

The building was dark as they approached, no light obvious within. The numbers above the doorframe confirmed they were at the address Panthea had marked.

Lauren stopped the car and left it running. “I'll go up, see if anyone is home. Wait here!”

She gripped the pistol tight as she pushed open the creaky door and moved slowly toward the entrance. Finch rushed up seconds later. “Finch, Jesus, what did I say!” she hissed at him.

“You forgot this!”

He pushed the small signet ring into her hand and retreated to the vehicle. Lauren stuck it in her pocket and made her way to the door. There was no doorbell. She hid the pistol behind her back, tried to calm herself, then knocked loudly.

Lights came on in every room and her heart skipped as she heard a buzz start to repeat somewhere within. She stumbled back, nearly ran away, but her legs refused to move. A moment later, the lights went off and the buzzing stopped and she was left once more, shaking and frightened, in the dark.

She looked back to the car, could see silhouettes of her brothers inside. Lauren steeled her nerves again, gripped the pistol tighter, and knocked again.

No lights this time, no buzz. She waited, knocked again. Finally, she gave up. Whoever Dr. Henderson was, he or she wasn't answering. Lauren turned and nearly pissed herself.

A giant of a man stood between her and the car. He was easily seven-feet tall and in the dark, his imposing figure made him that much more frightening. Lauren couldn't speak, couldn't raise the pistol. She shivered in the cool air as the man studied her.

“Who arrr ya?” It was English, heavily accented.

“I'm... uh... I'm...” Her fear left her unable to say more.

“Wha ya herr?”

“I... I was sent... uh...”

Before she could react the man racked a shotgun and pointed it to her chest. “Ya got fiva seconns...”

Lauren's bladder let go at the same time she managed to blurt out, “Panthea! Panthea sent me... please don't kill me!” She cowered, sank to her knees, urine flooding her pants and dripping onto the pavement.

The man held still a moment, grunted. “Hard tha bafore... proove at...”

Lauren fished out the ring as nausea took over, the man's shotgun pushed only inches from her chest. He took it, turned it over in his hand. Light flared from a device near his ear, shined down into his palm. The man looked closer.

A heartbreaking smile crept over his face. He pointed the shotgun at the car, said roughly, “gat tham... comm wuf me...”

Lauren stood, pants soaked in her own urine. She wondered if the man would kill them, if she should run. She considered racing into the night and leaving her brothers behind.