He led Jack toward the center of the vehicle cluster. Playing it safe, Jack followed close behind, his pistol trained on Oz’s back. The roustabouts—three now—followed. Oz stopped before an exceptionally run-down red trailer.

Jack heard something thumping against the inner walls and faint cries for help. Oz pointed to the padlock on the door and one of the roustabouts unlocked it.

As the door swung open, Jack slid his pistol behind his thigh. An idea of how to make this a smooth extraction was forming, but it might not work with artillery on display.

The cries and pounding ceased. For a moment nothing happened; then a sandy-haired man poked his head out. He looked pale, haggard, uncertain, but Jack recognized him as Douglas Gleason from the photo Nadia had shown him. Then Nadia appeared beside him.

All right, Jack thought. All right. Now to get them out of here.

“Good evening, Dr. Radzminsky,” he said.

Her head pivoted toward him and her eyes widened in recognition and relief.

“Jack!” she cried, her voice harsh and ragged from shouting for who knew how long. “Oh, Jack, it’s you!”

“Jack? Who’s Jack?” Gleason was saying, but Nadia shushed him.

“It’s all right. He’s a friend. Jack, how did you get here? How did you manage—?”

“Long story. Suffice for now that Monnet and his partners arranged for Mr. Prather here to kill you and your fiancé.”

“Oh, no!” she said with more despair than shock.

“Knew it!” Gleason said. “Had to be him!”

“But why?”

“He and Dragovic were making Berzerk, and you knew it. But Mr. Prather is not a murderer,” Jack said, nodding toward Oz, whose eyes widened in surprise. “So he merely kept you out of sight and out of harm’s way until he could find a solution for your, um, predicament.”

Jack was winging this. He glanced at Oz for a little backup.

“Yes,” Oz said, barely missing a beat. “Dr. Monnet was blackmailing me, so I couldn’t go to the police. I didn’t know what to do. But now that he’s dead—”

“Dead?” Nadia said. She looked at Jack.

“Milos Dragovic killed him.”

“With him gone,” Oz said, “it’s safe for me to release you.”

Jack said, “But there’s one matter we have to settle first: This never happened. Mr. Prather needs your word on that.”

Gleason needed about a second before nodding. “I can handle that.”

But Nadia hesitated, frowning, not onboard yet.

“Come on, Nadj,” Gleason said, putting his arm around her. “We weren’t harmed. They even fed us.”

“I’ve never been so frightened in all my life!”

“Yeah, but it’s better than being dead. He could’ve killed us—he was supposed to kill us, and it would have been easier, but he didn’t. We owe him something, don’t you think?”

Come on, Nadia, Jack thought, trying a little telepathy. Say yes and we’re out of here.

Finally she shrugged. “I don’t know about owing him,” she said, glaring at Oz. “But I guess we can keep it to ourselves.”