“Here’s what you do: You take my boat and leave here at first light for Rockland. Once there, you take that airplane of yours and fly west, stopping only at small, out-of-the-way airports to refuel. It’ll take you a couple of days, but you’ll fly to El Paso or Laredo, on the Mexican border, in Texas. You’ll cross the border, each in a different city, and you’ll travel separately to the Mexico City airport. From there, you can fly to Brazil, which has no extradition treaty. You can open a bank account there and transfer enough funds from the Singapore account to support you for a year or so.”

“Then what?”

“You’ll research where else in the world you can go, then start a small business. Even a million two won’t last forever. Take the laptop with you and the cell phone, which is a throwaway. I’ll call you from phone booths every now and then to see how you’re doing and give you advice.

“The cell phone may not work in Mexico, so buy another one, same in Brazil. Don’t linger in Mexico City. Never use your credit cards. Leave them with me. I’ll dispose of them. One of you should grow a beard, and you should both dye your hair different colors. Twins your size are too easy to spot. When you travel on trains or airplanes, never sit together; take different hotel rooms. Don’t be seen together in public until you’re safely in Brazil. Your passports are in the computer case.” He took a wad of bills from his pocket. “Here’s eight thousand dollars. That will get you to Rio, then you can draw on the Singapore account.”

Eben took the money. “Where did you get this?”

“I had a couple of thousand in the safe at the house. I’ve been cashing checks and using ATMs for a week; I knew you’d need some cash.”

“So, Dad,” Eben said, “you’ve created a paper trail. When they start looking for us, they’ll look at your bank account and see all these unusual cash withdrawals.”

“I’ll handle that,” Caleb said.

“And how are you going to handle it, Dad? You can’t explain those withdrawals; you won’t have the cash to show them. You’ll be just like our friends. You’ll crack, to save yourself, and you’ll tell them where to look for us.”

“I would never tell them,” Caleb said. “You’re my sons; I would never give you up.”

“Remember that time when we ran away from boarding school? We called you, and you gave us up.”

“Come on, boys. You were kids then; you’d done something crazy.”