The car wound steadily through the mountains, uphill then down, around hairpin curves and along breathless ridges. Ten more miles, maybe fifteen, Caitlyn told herself…the FBI would be ready…waiting. They’d take Vasily down. It would all be over. It’s going to be all right.

There was only one thing wrong with that reasoning. The agents lying in wait at the safe house would be expecting only one hostage, one Vasily had good reason not to harm. They hadn’t counted on C.J.

C.J., I’m sorry…I love you…

“Turn here.” The voice was a whip-crack in the silent car.

Caitlyn sat bolt upright. Adrenaline surged through her body as the car swerved sharply to the right onto a paved crossroad. “Why are we turning here?” she gasped. “The parkway-”

“Is a trap, of course,” Vasily said in a chillingly conversational tone as the car sped along the gently winding road. He turned in his seat, the sunglasses homing in on her like the eyes of some great predatory insect. “Isn’t it, Caitlyn? Did you really think I would fall for such an obvious plot? I have not gotten to where I am by being stupid. Now-let us go back to the beginning and try this again. Sean-your gun, please.”

Her mouth opened. Words froze in her throat as the man beside her silently handed his gun to Vasily. She watched in horror as it swung in a short, efficient arc until it was pointing at C.J.

“Now then, Caitlyn-one more time. Where is my daughter?”

“I don’t know!” Caitlyn sobbed. “It’s the truth. I don’t-”

The explosion in that enclosed space was shocking. On its echoes, Caitlyn’s scream merged in awful harmony with the agonized sound C.J. made as he doubled over, clutching at his thigh. Numb in mind and body, Caitlyn reached for him, throwing herself across the gunman-Sean’s-lap. A hand grabbed her by the hair and jerked her roughly back.

“Now, then,” Vasily said softly. “The next bullet will, I assure you, be in a more important spot. So, I ask you again-where are you keeping my daughter?”

“I’ll tell you. I will,” said Caitlyn hoarsely, lifting a shaking hand to her nose. “But you’re going to have to turn around. You’re going the wrong way.”

Funny thing-except for her concern for C.J., she no longer felt the slightest bit afraid. Rage had wiped her mind clear. She knew she had to stall for time, make Vasily believe she really was taking him to Emma’s hiding place. All she needed was enough time to allow the agents monitoring the tracking device in her belt buckle to realize, since they were now going in the wrong direction, that the plan had gone awry, and to move in.

Yes. All she needed was time. But how much time did C.J. have? Vasily wouldn’t hesitate to kill him-in an instant. But even without another bullet, he was bleeding badly. In utter silence, he lay slumped against the far door, still clutching his thigh with both hands, while blood welled in an unstoppable flood between his fingers. His face was the color of the clouds outside the windows of the car.

After the first glance, she couldn’t bring herself to look at him again.

The car lurched and jerked in a clumsy U-turn, then accelerated, careening back down the mountain road at a stomach-churning speed. A low groan came from C.J.’s side of the car.

“I’m going to be sick,” Caitlyn announced in a tight voice. She wasn’t kidding; she’d always had a tendency to get carsick. At the same time, a desperate plan was forming in the back of her mind. “I mean it-I have to throw up. Pull over-pull over!”

The authenticity of her plea was unmistakable, even to Vasily. He made a small hand gesture, and the car rolled to a stop. Caitlyn pounded on the door with her fists until she heard the lock release. Then, grasping the door handle she gave it a mighty push and lunged just in the nick of time into open air.

Empty, drained…she felt weak in the vicinity of her middle, but oddly, at the same time, stronger in mind and body than she’d ever been in her life.

As though from a distance, she heard herself say with utter calm, “I’ll be all right if I can just walk around a little. Is it okay if I get out for a minute?”

Vasily jerked his head toward Sean. “Go with her.” His voice was tight with disgust.

As though from a distance, she saw herself standing near the car. Her back was to it, as she drew in long breaths of cool, damp air. Behind her, Sean was stooped over as he emerged from the open door. The gun was back in his hand.

From that same great distance she saw herself whirl, and the gun go spinning through the air. She didn’t feel the impact of her foot against the side of Sean’s head, but she heard it-a wet, sickening smack.

As she lunged for the gun, as she picked it up from the ground and felt the still-warm weight of it in her hand, distance suddenly telescoped. Back in her body again, dazed and shaking, she heard confusing and alarming sounds coming from inside the car.

“Calvin!” she screamed, and was lurching toward the open door when he came tumbling headfirst through it, half crawling, half falling. Beyond him through the open door she could see, silhouetted against the driver’s-side window, the head of the driver, Dominic, slumped forward over the steering wheel. She realized then that one of the alarming sounds she’d been hearing was the blaring of the car’s horn.

“Come on out, Vasily,” she yelled, gripping the gun with both hands as she aimed it at the tinted window. “It’s over. The FBI is on its way.”

Then she watched, openmouthed, as the driver’s-side door suddenly opened. Dominic’s body rolled sideways and disappeared. The car leaped forward, slamming both open doors with its forward momentum. It roared away down the winding road, leaving Caitlyn standing, swaying, among three inert bodies.

Sobbing, she dropped to her knees beside one of them. “C.J., you idiot,” she whispered as she gathered his head into her lap. “What did you have to go and do that for? Why are you always trying to help me? If you bleed to death, what am I going to do? Huh? Answer me that…you…you… What will I ever do without you?”

C.J. looked up through patches of blackness and saw silver eyes gazing down into his. Silver eyes…shining with tears.

“Oh, Lord…if you’re crying, I guess I must be dying,” he said in a thickened croak. “Either that or you must love me.”

“Well, you’re not dying!” Caitlyn shouted.

Smiling the famous Starr smile, complete with dimples, C.J. closed his eyes. In the distance, sirens were wailing.

Mid-November-Grand Central Station, New York City

“It’s almost two,” C.J. said. His voice was tight and gruff with nervousness. “The e-mail said two o’clock. I don’t see her. You don’t think-”

“She’ll be here,” Caitlyn said, glancing at him. “Are you okay? Maybe you ought to sit down-”

“I’m okay.” He shifted irritably. He hadn’t been out of the hospital all that long, but he was already sick and tired of people fussing over him. He’d be glad when he could throw away the damn cane-that would help. He gave it a defiant little wave to demonstrate that he was only using it to please her, but the truth was, he still had to lean on it a lot more than he liked.

“This place is huge,” he muttered, glancing superstitiously over his shoulder at the two women following at a discreet distance behind them-his lawyer, Charly, and the tall, gaunt black woman with her, Mrs. Gibson, from Florida Social Services. This moment seemed a miracle to him already, but he couldn’t get rid of the fear in his heart. So much had happened to get him to this place, and so much still had to happen before he would consider the people he loved safe again. Vasily was being held without bail, his empire was being dismantled and unraveled piece by piece…but still.

“There she is,” Caitlyn said softly. She gave his hand a squeeze and began to move toward the child sitting all by herself in a long row of seats.

He didn’t recognize her at first. Not until she looked up to see who it was that was stopping to speak to her, calling her by a half-forgotten name. Her hair was brown, not black, and long on her shoulders, the bangs pulled to one side and fastened with a plastic clip. But there was no mistaking those eyes. Frightened eyes…dark as pools. Refugee eyes. He felt an odd little kick in his heart. A remembered tremor under his ribs.

“Hello, Emma,” Caitlyn said, as she sat on the edge of the seat next to her. “I’m Caitlyn-remember me?”

The little girl nodded. Her eyes slid past Caitlyn. She glanced fearfully at C.J., then asked in a small voice, “Where’s Myrna? She told me to wait right here. She said we were going to Disney World.”

“That’s right. C.J. and I are going to take you to Disney World. But Myrna can’t come, sweetie-I’m sorry.”

“Why not?” The big eyes shimmered with impending tears.

“She has to go away, Emma,” Caitlyn said gently. “She can’t be with you anymore.”

“Like my mommy?”

Caitlyn hesitated, then nodded. “Sort of, yeah.”

Emma sniffed. Her bewildered eyes lifted again. “Then who’s going to take care of me?”

“We are,” Caitlyn said. “C.J. and me.” Her groping hand found C.J.’s and drew him closer. “You remember C.J., don’t you?” Emma gazed up at him in unblinking silence.

He looked back at her, hollow with nervousness and a kind of fear he’d never felt before. Then he shifted the cane to his other hand so he could open the plastic shopping bag he’d been carrying. The bag had the name FAO Schwarz printed on it. He opened it and took something out-a small figure of a little girl with superpowers and huge black eyes. He heard a tiny hitch of indrawn breath. “I don’t know which one this is,” he said gruffly. “Guess you’re gonna have to tell me.”

A small hand reached slowly. The black eyes widened, then lifted once more to C.J.’s. He nodded, and with a sudden, swift movement, she took the toy from him and clasped it to her narrow chest. She hitched herself forward in the chair and stood up, at the same time reaching for his hand.