Stunned, Nancy stared at the journalist. Having wondered whether it would be better to tell Jan the truth about her son or lie, the Guard officer was caught complete off guard by the questions Jan was now pelting her with.

Jan misread Nancy’s expression. The journalist immediately thought that she had blundered. Drawing back, she desperately tried to extract herself as quickly as possible. “Please understand,” the journalist stated as fast as the words would come. “I appreciate your dedication to duty and the sense of loyalty that you feel toward your adopted home state. Scott’s the same way, you know,” she explained.

“Yes,” Nancy found herself saying, “I know.” In the meantime, the Guard officer found herself wondering if she could use Jan and her press credentials as a means of establishing contact with the Federal forces that now encircled Idaho. But just as quickly as that thought jumped to the fore, Nancy discounted it. It wouldn’t be right to endanger Jan like that. Besides, the relationship between Jan and Nathan, not to mention the one between those two and Scott Dixon, might create unforeseen complications. No! Nancy told herself. Keep your mouth shut.

“It’s probably best if we both forgot about this. Don’t you agree?” Jan volunteered.

Still not sure what to say, Nancy simply grunted and nodded. “Yes, sure. Of course.”

Then as quickly as she dared Jan left Nancy and made her way to where her crew was waiting for her. While she knew that not every idea a journalist had paid off, it still annoyed her to no end when one of hers flopped as badly as this one had.

Out on the street, two men sitting in a parked car watched Jan walk away from Nancy. “Which one do we follow?” a lean militiaman asked his buddy.

“The one we were told to follow, fool,” his bearded companion sneered. “The bitch in BDUs is nothing but a high paid postal worker. Followin’ her isn’t worth the effort.”

“Well, maybe the female colonel gave the reporter something?” the lean militiaman insisted. “Maybe she’s passing secrets.”

Starting the nondescript sedan they were sitting in, the bearded militiaman shook his head. “What difference does that make. So long as we keep an eye on the journalist and make sure she doesn’t get too far out of line everything will be okay.”

When they saw Jan disappear around the corner, the bearded one pulled away from the curb, flipped on his headlights, and followed her.

From the shadows where she was still collecting her thoughts Nancy took note of the strange behavior of the car across the way. While she caught only a brief glimpse of the car’s occupants, their appearance, and the questions that Jan had hit her with, added a new concern that Nancy Kozak had to deal with.

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 21

ALONG THE IDAHO-NEVADA BORDER • ONE MINUTE PAST MIDNIGHT, NOVEMBER 8