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

Sagal, Female, late-30s

	- Somolian Agent of Marker 1

	- dark-brown skin, 5'9, 155lbs, long thick straight black hair

Hannigan, Male, late-30s

	- Former agent of M1 and Playa Gordo

	- Pale, freckled skin, 5'11, 185lbs, short sandy-red hair

Hilda, Female, 40s-60s

	- Former colleague of Hannigan

	- Pale olive skin, 5'6, 125lbs, shoulder-length dark-brown hair

Hannah, Female, 15

	- daughter of Dr. Henderson and Juliana, twin sister of Georges

	- Dark beige skin, 5'10, 160lbs, long dark-brown hair in a ponytail

Chaster Haul didn't stop once on the trek across the Romanian hills in the bitter cold night. Tamara's legs were sore and shaky, her throat parched, her skin numb, her fear having largely given way to weariness and discomfort. At least he's not shooting at us... The man moved at a pace which was hard to follow, but he seemed determined to get somewhere specific, and even as the wind picked up and the snow began to trickle through the trees, Haul appeared undeterred and unaffected.

After a couple of hours, he slowed slightly and let Hilda catch up to him. He spoke quietly to her then paused, turned around, and walked back in the direction from which they'd come. Hilda whispered to Tamara and Hannigan, “spot is just ahead. Haul's going to double back and check our tail. Come on.”

Hilda led them down a small game trail that wrapped around the side of a sharp hillock which rode on the back of a larger mountain. She paused near a clump of bushes, looked around, and motioned the others to follow her. Hilda crawled on her stomach, inching under a low, thick brush line. Tamara watched her disappear, then did the same. Branches scratched her skin but she felt no pain, her flesh long-frozen as the snow had begun to accumulate beneath her. Hilda's hand took hers and led her to stand after a dozen feet of crawling.

Tamara could see almost nothing despite the snow coating everything around her. Hilda kept her hand while Hannigan rustled through the bushes. Tamara felt him stand as well. He whispered to Hilda close to Tamara's ear, “what now?”

Hilda's voice was cracked and raw, “there is a tunnel here. Haul said to wait for him.”

Tamara noted that the snow wasn't falling as heavily where they were, as if they had emerged under a thick cover of foliage. She wished desperately she could just fall down and sleep, but the three of them were tightly crowded together and the ground was frozen and unaccommodating. Hannigan wrapped his arm around each of them and pulled them together to huddle for warmth.

They waited ten or fifteen minutes before they heard the slightest of rustling in the bushes. Hannigan stood tense, his arms no longer around them. Tamara expected he had his weapon out. “Who goes?” he whispered in a forced, hoarse voice.

“Haul. Give me a bit of space.”

Hilda took a step back against the branches, pulling Tamara with her. Tamara felt more than saw the man stand up next to her, her body beginning to burn with discomfort and numbness.

“Ok. Hilda, behind me, take my belt and follow. Tamara, you do the same to Hilda. Hannigan's tail.”

The chain formed up awkwardly, but Haul led them slowly through tight gaps in the branches, just enough space to let them through, but Tamara could feel the scratches beginning to add up on her face.

Moments later, Haul leaned down, whispered back, “duck and move forward.” Tamara did, following Hilda, Hannigan's hand drifting from her waist to her ass as they crawled. She began to make out light ahead after a small curve in the tunnel, then a tinny sound, followed by Hilda moving forward. Tamara followed, emerged in a small rock-lined passageway. Haul said, “move forward until you reach the main room,” and then he waited as the others slid past him.

Tamara followed Hilda for a few minutes, the occasional light offering modest illumination along the way. They passed through a couple of additional doors, and finally entered a moderately-sized room which was well lit and warm. There were six simple cots, stacks of blankets and clothing, boxes of supplies of some sort, and several weapons resting on a long, rusty table near the far wall. Cases of ammunition were nearby.

Tamara could barely function. Exhaustion had long before caused her reasoning ability to become dormant, her body moving only through sheer will. She tumbled onto a cot and curled up tightly. Someone threw a blanket over her, then another. Before she had time to wonder what Haul had in mind for them, her body shut down and her mind followed quickly.

- - -

Gene had taken over driving in the night when Holly mumbled that the pill timing was off and she was feeling weary. His own energy level had fallen back to normal alertness, but he still felt fine to drive. Holly leaned her head against the passenger door and appeared to sleep. Gene had stared ahead and tried to focus on the road as the miles flew by.

A couple of hours later, Holly sat up straight, a smile on her face. “Ok, third wave kicking in. I'll have to work on that timing, shouldn't have had a gap like that. You still ok?”

Gene nodded, said, “yeah, starting to feel it again.”

“Good.” Holly looked out into the darkness around them. “We need to find a new ride soon. Next town, let's stop and get our bearings.”

A dozen miles down the road, Gene pulled off on the northern edge of a small town at a place which resembled a gas station from the 1950s. There was one pump, no lights on. Three cars and a truck were parked nearby, no traffic on the road beside them.

Holly had Gene turn back towards the north and drive a couple of miles to where a small sandy bank rose and provided an overlook. He drove around behind it and parked. They got out, grabbed their gear, and walked steadily back towards the gas station. He whispered to Holly, “what about Sagal?”

“She passed us as we pulled behind the hill. Don't worry, she'll be on our tail again once we get moving.”

Holly had Gene wait behind a clump of trees a hundred meters from the gas station while she scouted forward. He watched as she worked at picking the lock on a small brown sedan.

A man's voice shouted from near the station. Gene didn't recognize the language. Another shout, and he saw Holly freeze. Three men were suddenly surrounding her. Newly-developed instincts took over. His sidearm was in his hand, safety off as he slid forward quickly and pressed against the station wall. He could see Holly standing and talking quietly. The men were dark, dressed in shabby pajama-like robes.

A knife flashed in one of the men's hands, and he heard one speak in heavily-accented English, “pretty woman, yes? Pretty woman. Yes. Pretty woman come with us. Yes. No fight. No fight.”

Gene knew Holly's stance was anything but casual. She would be ready to fight, no doubt. Gene crept forward, hid behind a car just a few meters from where the men were closing in on Holly.

“Yes, pretty woman. I like, yes. Gift from Allah, yes. Come, pretty woman.”

Gene saw the man with the knife step closer to Holly, his arm outstretched. Gene was in motion, slamming his body into the knife-wielding man, his hand wrapping around the wrist nearest the knife. Holly was a blur, the sounds of painful grunts and impacts of fists and knees. By the time Gene looked up from where he held the man on the ground, Holly was smiling down at him, the other two men motionless on their stomachs.

“Nicely done, Gene. Nicely done. Come on, we need to get out of here.” She took the knife from the man under Gene and tossed it several meters away. Holly leaned down, whispered to the man who was suddenly motionless under him. “Pretty, yes. Dangerous, yes. You sleep now.” She hammered her fist down on the back of the man's neck and he went limp immediately.

She stuck out her hand and Gene took it, climbing off the man and quickly sliding into the passenger seat of the brown sedan. A small truck went by them northbound as they pulled back onto the highway, Holly at the wheel. The short blonde said, “that's Sagal,” and floored the accelerator.

Gene's adrenaline was running high as the impact of the assault played through his thoughts. “Who were those guys?”

Holly shrugged. “Nobody. Bunch of guys who didn't want me to steal their car.” Holly giggled, shifted back in her seat, unbuttoned her pants and slid a hand down under her panties. “God, I wish we had time to fuck right now. I'm so turned on!”

“Jesus, Holly. You're turned on by almost being raped? What the fuck?”

She shook her head. “First of all, none of those motherfuckers was going to lay a finger on me without losing it.” Gene nodded, acknowledging that was probably true. “Second... I'm turned on because you were a fucking badass. My pussy is soaking right now, Gene, all because you asserted yourself.”

“To protect you...”

“Maybe, though I think you know I'm not some weak damsel in need of rescue.”

“Whatever.”

Holly looked at him, grinning. “Seriously, I got wet when you tackled that guy. Love watching you be a man like that...”

Gene shook his head.

“Help me out here? Could use a finger or two...”

Holly took Gene's hand quickly and pushed it between her legs. He could feel the wetness immediately, both from the panties against the back of his hand and from the blonde's slick vulva.

“Mmm... that's it. Do me quick!”

Gene's fingers worked fast across Holly's labia, his palm rubbing circles around her hard clit. She purred as she drove, the car speeding up as her hips rolled against the contact. Gene dipped two fingers into Holly's vagina, felt slick cream coating them as he pushed inside. Holly moaned, bucked against him, her clit grinding against his hand.

“Oh, yeah... Oh, yeah... Finger me, Gene. Goddamn, finger me you macho fucker. Fuck!” Holly's body shuddered, the car lurching forward, faster and faster. Gene wasn't so sure Holly was paying attention to the road, but his fingers moved on their own. Holly shuddered again, cried out, “yes... yes... YESSSSSS... OOOOOOHHH...” and came hard, Gene's fingers coated with her creamy juices.

She panted as he slowed and cupped her slick genitals. Gene noticed for the first time that it had been a few days since Holly had shaved, and a fine stubble lightly raked against his skin as he withdrew his hand. Holly smiled at him, “mmm... needed that... button me up...” He did so and leaned back in his seat, his penis throbbing despite his concerns for her driving.

Holly looked down at his crotch, slid her hand over to his zipper, and pulled it down. “Looks like you need a quick hand, too...” She pulled his penis out and stroked it, a wicked grin on her face. “Take the wheel, let me know if I need to brake.”

Gene started to speak, “what? No...” But Holly was already leaning over him, his cock in her mouth. Gene's hand shot to the wheel and tried to keep it on the road as Holly blew him, her foot resting heavily on the accelerator. It was crazy trying to drive from the passenger seat with his dick inside the short blonde's mouth.

Holly purred as she sucked him, and though Gene tried to focus on driving, it took just a moment or two before he felt his penis throbbing against her tongue. He groaned, pulsed, and ejaculated into Holly's mouth.

She pulled back, cum dripping from her lips. Holly retook the wheel as semen continued to drool out of Gene's cock. Holly swallowed, wiped the cum into her mouth, and swallowed again. “Nice, Gene. Nice.” She purred. “You're becoming very satisfying the more I know you... Might make you into an proper lover over the long haul.”

He felt weary suddenly, mumbled that he needed to rest, and sank down into his seat as he tucked his penis back in his pants.

- - -

Finch woke early feeling like a man. I'm not a virgin anymore! He'd barely slept he was so excited. His cock had raged off and on all night, but after the amazing sensations of being inside his sister's pussy, his own hand no longer felt like enough. He wanted to be with Lauren again like that, and he rolled out of bed at dawn, leaving Logan to sleep on alone.

Finch worked his way down the hall to Lauren's room, pausing outside. He hadn't heard anyone else stirring yet. He knocked quietly twice and waited. He didn't hear a response so Finch slowly opened the door and looked in. Lauren was asleep on her side, facing away from him. He wondered what she would think if he got into bed with her.

He closed the door behind him and did just that, removing his clothes, carefully pulling back the covers, and sliding next to his sister on the bed. She wore a nightshirt which had ridden up to her waist, white panties covering her genitals. Lauren showed no sign that she had noticed him, and Finch covered himself, resting on his elbow a moment. He whispered, “Lauren?” There was no response. He rested his hand on her hip, said again, “Lauren?”

His sister stirred and looked back over her shoulder. She stared at him a moment, said nothing a few seconds, then whispered, “what is it?”

Finch replied quietly, “just wanted to curl up with you... that ok?”

She nodded sleepily and rested her head on the pillow again. Finch wasn't sure how awake she was or how much she knew about what he hoped might happen. He moved closer to her, his stomach against her back, his hard penis pressing against the cleft between her butt cheeks. Her hand drew back and slowly stroked his thigh.

He wasn't as nervous as he had been the first time, but he wasn't sure what to do next. He though Lauren was willing to let him fuck her but she continued to lay on her side rather than moving onto her back so that he could be over her. It felt great to be against his sister, though, her warm body sending tingles into his own.

- - -

Lauren wasn't terribly surprised that Finch had sought her out early that morning. As he rested against her, she slowly stroked his hip and thigh, enjoying the way his hard penis throbbed against her ass. She was horny, thoughts of the day before still playing in her mind, thoughts of the evening plans she'd made with Hannah exciting her as much as her brother's naked body behind her.

Finch whispered to her, “can we do it again?”

She smiled and said quietly, “yes...”

He started to rise up and tried to move over her but she stopped him, said, “no... like this...” He froze as she shifted her panties lower and pulled him close to her again, both of them on their sides. Lauren lifted her upper leg slightly, then she reached back and grasped Finch's cock. It was hard and warm in her fingers. She shifted her hips and nestled the tip of her brother's penis against her labia.

- - -

Finch's hips moved on their own the second he felt the heat of his sister's sex against his cock. Her labia parted as he sank inside her body, the warmth of Lauren's vagina a wonderful heat along his length. He heard her gasp as he entered her. Finch held tight against her, awkwardly trying to thrust in the unusual position. Lauren's hand steadied him as she whispered, “like this... yes... like this...”

She worked her ass against him, moving forward and backward slowly, letting her body guide his movements in and out of her hole. Finch soon got the hang of it, his arm wrapping around his sister, his fingers cupping her lovely fifteen-year old breasts.

“Oh... Finch... oh...”

He felt himself burning, burning, his need raw and overwhelming. All he could think of was the heat of Lauren's pussy, his sister's firm ass against his groin, the soft, tender flesh of her boobs in his hand. He panted against her neck, his penis swelling quickly inside her vagina.

- - -

Finch's movements were inexperienced, but Lauren found herself growing warm with pleasure as he grew harder in her cunt. His thrusts were short and soon urgent. Despite the fact that he was a virgin just hours before, there was a rush of passion in their coupling, the taboo nature of their experience sending Lauren's mind to desirous thoughts. She wanted him to cum in her again, she needed to feel her brother's ejaculate spurting into her body. Her fingers slid down to her clit and as she shuddered and panted, a warm wetness splashed inside of her.

- - -

“Ohhh... uhhhnnn... uhnnn... oooohhh...” Finch's semen boiled out of him and bubbled into his sister's vagina. He pulsed, holding tight against her, her ass pressed hard against his groin, his penis deep in Lauren's body as ejaculate rushed out, flooding her hole. His penis felt raw and wonderful as warm, sticky fluids started running down his shaft and balls.

- - -

Lauren's body tensed as Finch came in her. It was so erotic, so taboo, so wonderful to know her brother was cumming inside her like that, cumming in her fifteen-year old pussy. Lauren's fingers twirled quickly, and before Finch softened and withdrew, she shuddered into a soft, lovely orgasm around his fourteen-year old cock.

She relaxed, her hand drifting back to hold Finch against her backside, his penis softening slowly but still inside her body. They lay like that a while, Finch's fingers occasionally caressing her breasts, his breath hot against her neck. Lauren didn't know why she liked the experience so much. She knew she should be disgusted, that what she and Finch were doing was wrong, but after their time together on the run, after seeing Hannah and Georges together, Lauren had acknowledged how much she wanted it.

Lauren knew it was something she shouldn't crave, shouldn't desire. But clearly Finch was enjoying it as much as she was, and before long, she was moving again, his penis never leaving her body. They rutted slowly for long moments, no rush to orgasm, the teen simply enjoying the feeling of his penetration, of her brother's hot flesh against hers. Neither came again that morning, and after a while, Lauren slowly turned over and faced Finch, pulling him close to her.

- - -

Finch's penis was slick from his orgasm and Lauren's pussy. He knew he could cum again, but the way they'd fucked slowly left him with no urgency. He'd enjoyed the feeling, though he knew that, in many ways, it had been wrong to fuck his sister. He didn't care, really. He was no longer a virgin and it had felt wonderful to be with Lauren like that.

When she had turned over, his sister had pulled him to her, her head against his chest, lips kissing his skin softly. She cocked a leg up over his thigh, his half-hard, slippery penis resting against the coarse, dark pubes covering her Mons. He instinctively kissed her forehead. Lauren raised her head, seemed to ponder something a moment, then brought her lips to his.

Finch sank in quickly, his sister's tongue slipping into his mouth, her hot breath coming deep and needful. They shared that kiss for long moments, neither willing to break away. Finch felt himself growing hard again and was about ready to try to fuck Lauren again when there was a gentle knock at the door.

- - -

Lauren froze after breaking the kiss with Finch. The knock came again, then a soft feminine voice said, “Lauren? You awake?” It was Hannah.

“Uh... yeah,” responded Lauren.

“Can I come in a moment?”

Lauren looked at Finch, uncertain a moment, then realized that Hannah already knew and what they had planned for later that night would have them sharing much more together. “Yeah... yeah, ok.”

The door opened slowly and Hannah peaked inside. When she saw Finch in bed with her, the girl smiled, “oh, sorry, didn't know you had company.” She didn't leave, instead stepping in and closing the door behind her.

Hannah stared at them a moment, Finch's penis still throbbing against Lauren's Mons, his semen dripping from her swollen vagina. “Listen, Mom wants to talk to you, Lauren. Privately.”

Lauren felt dread. “Uh... why?”

“Dunno. Don't think it's bad or anything, she just told me to have you find her later to talk.”

Lauren felt apprehensive. Her contact with Juliana had been fairly minimal, the woman mostly letting the teens handle the chores while she spent time with her husband. Now that Dr. Henderson had left the farm, it seemed that the woman had taken an additional interest in them. Or at least, in Lauren.

Hannah smiled again, said, “don't sweat it. Anyway... save some of that for tonight...” She let herself out of the room and closed the door again.

Finch asked quietly, “tonight?”

Lauren shivered, couldn't help smiling. “You'll see... no jerking off today, ok?”

- - -

Tamara shot awake at the sound of a squawking radio. It was over in a second, but her eyes were wide open and her mind racing. It took a moment to remember where she was. The small cavernous room looked much like it had some hours before except that she could see Hilda and Hannigan sleeping on cots nearby, Chaster Haul huddled over a small bench. He looked back at her as if he knew she'd come awake. He nodded his head for her to join him.

She crept out of the cot gingerly, her legs heavy and sore. Haul motioned towards a table where a pot of coffee was ready along with what looked like small, hard cookies. She was ravenous and downed half a cup of scalding coffee and several of the cookies before sitting next to the man.

He didn't speak for a long time and Tamara began to wonder who this man was and what he was going to do with them. She finally got the nerve up to ask, “are you going to help us?”

Haul only nodded twice, keeping his concentration on a small box cradled in his hands. A thin, black-coated cord ran from the back and disappeared into a crack in the rock wall. He sat the box down after a while, then removed his earpiece. Hannigan and Hilda had joined them, standing behind Tamara, eyes on Chaster Haul.

Haul turned and eyed each of them. Tamara got a better look at the man than the night before. He still wore his dark-green camouflage and his exposed flesh was still coated in paint. He'd removed his hat, his dark auburn hair cut close to his scalp. His expression betrayed nothing of his thoughts.

“Your husband is alive.”

Tamara felt her stomach turn over. “What?!”

“A couple of days ago, he was in Algeria. Since then... unknown.”

“Oh, God, Gene! Oh, thank goodness!” Tamara felt joy like no other, Hannigan's hand resting on her shoulder. She clenched at the thought of her children. “What about my kids?”

Haul shook his head. “Last seen many days ago in Switzerland. They've dropped off the map. My guess is they are hiding out somewhere. If someone has them, I'd know about it.”

Tamara felt sick a moment at the thought that her children were lost, frightened, on their own. She felt horrible, but she admitted that he hadn't said they were dead. At least there was hope, and at least Gene was still alive.

Hannigan spoke up. “What else do you know?”

Haul ignored his question, continued his thoughts. “Gene is one of only four people who know the key to Victor's plans. He just doesn't know he knows it. That alone has probably kept him alive.”

Hilda cut in. “You knew Victor was following us...”

Haul stared at her without expression.

She continued. “You knew... and you used us as bait...”

Haul sipped coffee, then responded, “Victor is more important than you are.” He didn't elaborate further.

Hannigan asked, “is Victor dead?”

Haul replied, “no. Neck wound, but he survived.”

Tamara began to feel claustrophobic in the cavern. “So what now?”

Chaster turned to her, eyed her a moment. “You lose that key.”

“Key? What key?”

“The one in your ear.”

“What...” Tamara remember then the moment Holly had injected something in her earlobe during the flight from the United States. “Oh. They've been using it to find me...”

Haul nodded, had a knife in his hand without effort. “Just a quick flick.”

Tamara leaned back, brought her hands up. “That's barbaric! Don't you know a better way?”

“Better means more efficient, so, no. It won't hurt much. I need it out.”

Tamara closed her eyes and braced herself as Haul took her ear in her fingers. Pain lanced through her head, but after the numerous scratches the night before, it wasn't nearly as bad as Tamara had feared.

Haul slapped a small bandage over the cut then held the small device between two fingers. He stood, retrieved something from his bag and poured a liquid into a small shot-sized glass. He dropped the device into the liquid and shook it a moment, then poured the contents over the wooden table, rivulets running onto the floor. He ran his hand over the small, wet metallic object and seemed satisfied as he tossed it into a small trash bin.

He explained nothing and sat again, finally answering Hannigan's question. “Victor will have lost your trail now. I'm sure he didn't follow us here, and he has no idea who attacked him. So long as you don't surface, Tamara, you are relatively safe again.”

She let out her breath, not certain she trusted Haul's words, but surprisingly relieved to hear them anyway.

“As such, I have too much to do to chaperone you. I can get you heading wherever you wish to go. I advise you to get to the M1 site in Saray, Turkey if you want help getting your family back. However, going after Gene right now would be stupid, Mrs. Polanski. You don't want to put him at risk by trying to get to him. Get to Turkey and get help there.” He finished his coffee. “I need you gone in two hours, tops.”

Hilda exploded, “you're kicking us out? I thought you were going to help us!”

Haul's expression never changed, his voice perfectly neutral. “I have helped you. I kept Victor from taking you, I've put him off your trail, and I've given you an opportunity to rest as well as a friendly destination. I fail to see the reason for your anger.”

Hilda was frustrated, her face making her look much older than the days before. She couldn't fashion a response.

Hannigan cut in. “At least help us get to a vehicle. Turkey's not too far, we could be there by this evening if things go smoothly.”

Haul stared at him a moment, then asked, “still know your Janus?”

Hannigan paused, then nodded slowly. Tamara eyed him, asked, “Janus?”

Hannigan replied, “old crypto.”

Haul jotted down some notes and a small map on a ratty piece of white paper, handed it to Hannigan. “Read it, burn it before you leave.”

Hilda was still angry. “Why encode it like that? Why not just tell us?”

Haul ignored her.

Tamara watched Hannigan study the paper a few moments. Finally, the redheaded man nodded and offered it back to Haul. The man took the paper, flicked a lighter, and held it until it crumbled into ashes as the flame drew up to his fingers. “I've already packed your gear along with some supplies to get you there. Take one of the automatics with you. Just one. Ammo can is the big grey one on the left, take that too.”

Tamara eyed the table holding the weapons, felt her bladder straining. “Where is the toilet?”

Haul gave her a measured look, pointed towards a curtain. “There.”

Tamara rose and pulled back the curtain. There was a small room chiseled out of the rock, a good-sized hole in the floor but no seat over it, something like a primitive outhouse in a cave. It smelled nothing like an outhouse, thankfully, and Tamara was soon squatting over the hole and emptying her bladder and bowels.

- - -

The border crossing into the Moroccan-controlled part of the Western Sahara had been empty, and Gene had counted only a few dozen other vehicles on the road the entire morning. Holly had said that the highway was normally packed, at least in places, the absence of traffic a sign of the effects of the growing global conflict.

Late morning they pulled onto the peninsula in the Western Sahara and stopped at a cafe near the port in the city of Dakhla, a Moroccan-controlled town which had been, until recently, catering to large numbers of tourists. The place was largely deserted except for military patrols racing through the town in small trucks mounted with high-caliber guns. They largely avoided being too close, but the patrols ignored them and sped on without slowing down.

The cafe was open, but Gene and Holly were the only ones besides an older, dark-brown skinned man who served them coffee and fruit.

“Wait here for Sagal. She should join us shortly. I need to take a piss.” Holly slid out of her seat and disappeared inside the cafe.

Sagal was seated before Gene heard her walk up. The woman wore the same brown clothes, sunglasses hiding her eyes. She leaned in, asked, “what is Holly doing? This place is rather conspicuous right now, too easy to stick out. If she wants to get to Dakar, sitting in Dakhla is not helping us stay under the radar.”

Gene shrugged. “No idea. You know her, she never much reveals her plans until they happen. Pretty annoying, really.”

Sagal glanced around. “I've been here a few times. We used to operate out of here both north and south. This place is dead right now. I got word on the drive that fighting broke out in Marrakesh a few hours after we left. Everyone's on edge, Gene. Dakar is going to be harder to reach with every minute we delay here.”

“She's pissing in there if you want to go explain that to her.”

Sagal sat instead, and moments later, Holly settled into her seat. The dark-skinned woman said, “why are we stopped, Holly? This isn't a good place.”

Holly shrugged, “I needed to piss, seemed like the right time for it.” Gene knew Holly well enough to know something else was going on, but he didn't follow up.

Sagal looked exasperated. “Fine, well... you've pissed, can we get this going again?”

Holly nodded. “Gene, grab the bag of bread and cheese on the counter, they're ours. I'll get the case of bottle water. Let's move!” Holly was up and walking quickly away, leaving Gene and Sagal to share a frustrated look.

Moments later, they were heading north away from Dakhla before turning south once they had cleared the penisula, Gene at the wheel.

“What didn't you tell us back there?”

Holly offered a small smile. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Can it, Holly. Why did we stop?”

She looked out the window at the blowing sand. “Needed to make contact with an independent in Dakar. I've arranged for some equipment we'll need to get to the Cambridge. Sagal isn't going with us, so I couldn't let her know.”

“Isn't she going to expect to stay close to me? She says her mission is to keep me alive.”

“I'll worry about that. Once we get to Dakar, we'll be cleared to the Cambridge within an hour or two. Sagal will be... given another assignment.”

Gene had no idea whether that meant a new mission for the the Somalian woman, or something less savory. He stared down the rough highway and tried to ignore the way the pill's effects had begun to cycle again, leaving him feeling speedy and hot despite the cool air blowing through the vehicle.

- - -

Tamara stopped in her tracks as an uncomfortable sensation passed over her body. She couldn't place the feeling. Something gnawed at her. The others paused and looked back. “What's wrong?” Hannigan asked.

“Not sure... I feel... I dunno, something odd.”

Hilda nodded. “Haul wiped something from us. Anyone remember the path to the tunnel, or the path out? I can't...”

Tamara shook her head, a vivid but empty blank spot returned when she tried to recall how they had gotten to Haul's underground bunker. “How...?”

“No clue. He's good, though. Wanted to make sure we couldn't lead anyone there. That man is a paranoid genius, even if he is maddening as all hell.” Hilda had fumed for an hour as they headed south across the Romanian hills, away from Haul's bunker. She'd let it go finally, accepting that he had actually saved their lives and offered them a reasonable solution to their situation.

Hannigan spoke up, “let's keep moving, almost down to the spot where Haul said we could get a car.”

They moved on down the hill to a place where a small unfenced lot held small rusting cars. It looked abandoned. Tamara said, “this is our choice of rides? Ugh...”

They waited in the treeline a moment before Hannigan said, “wait here. I'll take a look around.”

Tamara watched him slip down the slope and move amongst the vehicles. He paused at several before opening the door on one of the less-ratty-looking cars, a white two-door missing a rear bumper. She heard it fire up and Hannigan's arm shot out of the open window, motioning them to him.

Hilda and Tamara raced down, the older woman sliding into the rear seat before Tamara got into the front. In moments, Hannigan had them heading East down a narrow road which wound around the surrounding hills. Tamara stared out at the green landscape, snow mixing in around them and covering the higher elevations. She felt a thrill of joy at the knowledge that her husband was alive. She hoped desperately that her children were, as well.