Herbert looked ahead, watching for an exit. The van hadn't had that much of a head start. It would have to be coming up soon. He wondered if it were by design or coincidence that the van had come this way.

"Bob," Alberto said excitedly, "we just got a quarter-mile view to the east of the wreck. Marsha says she sees part of a rough dirt road and what could be a person in one of the trees."

"Could be?"

Marsha came on. Herbert could picture the tough little brunette wresting the phone from Alberto.

"Yes, Bob, it could be. There's a dark shape under the leaves. It's not a branch and it's too big to be a hive or bird's nest."

"A scared kid might hide in a tree,," Herbert said.

"Or a cautious one," Marsha said.

"Good point. Where's the white van now?" Herbert asked.

"It was in the picture with the trailer," said Marsha. "None of the police are looking over."

That'd be a kick in the head, thought Herbert. The local police in cahoots with the local neo-Nazi militia.

There was an exit coming up on the right. Beyond it, Herbert saw a wooded area, the beginning of a magnificent sprawl of countryside.

"I think I'm where I need to be," Herbert said. "Is there any way to get to that tree without being seen by the police?"

There was a muted conference on the other end of the line.

Alberto came on. "Bob, yes. You can exit, pull to the right off the road, and take that dirt road."

"I can't," Herbert said. "If the kidnappers headed into the woods instead of out, I don't want to run into them. Or them into me."

"All right," said Alberto. "Then you can circumvent them by going-- let's see, southeast… uh, roughly one third of a mile to a stream. Cross to the east, to about a quarter of a mile to… shit, there's no landmark there."

"I'll find it."

"Boss--"

"I'll find it. What's next?"

Alberto said, "Then you go northeast about seventy-five yards to a gnarly old whatever-it-is. Marsha says it's an oak. But that's pretty rough terrain."

"I once climbed the steps of the Washington Monument. I went up backwards, on my ass, and came down frontwards."

"I know. But that was eleven years ago, and it was here at home."

"I'll be fine," Herbert said. "You take a paycheck, you gotta do the shit work as well as the easy stuff."

"This isn't 'shit work,' Boss. This is a man in a wheelchair trying to climb ledges and cross streams."

Herbert felt a flash of doubt, but he flushed it away.

He wanted to do this. No, he needed to do this. And in his heart, he knew he could.