She hadn’t changed a bit. Her hair was still the same raven black mane of gypsy curls, a little dusty like the old leather jacket she was wearing. Jeans and cowboy boots weren’t exactly the kind of garb that would enable her to pass unnoticed in these parts. But she seemed to have made it in one piece nonetheless. She hugged him again, wrapping her arms around his neck. She kissed him twice. ‘I’m so happy you’re here, Ben. Hell, I’ve been dropping hints for years that you should come see me. Guess I had to go missing in the middle of a freakin’ war zone for you to take an interest at last.’ She was beaming as she said it. The last rays of the sunset glowed on her face and in her dark eyes. ‘There’s so much I want to tell you. I’m glad Karim is still okay. And poor Linus; he and the others must have been going nuts. I tried and tried calling them to say I was all right, but my phone died the day we were leaving Kabul. Chances of getting reception out here are about nil anyway. Are you guys able to make contact with the outside world?’

‘We have a satellite phone,’ Wolf said. ‘With a hole in it.’

‘Then I guess we’re on our own, huh?’

Her three companions had caught up and were standing there uncertainly. Holt and the others had come over too, making a small crowd gathered around Madison. She asked, ‘Are these your buddies?’

‘We kind of bumped into one another en route.’

‘So you’re the ex-bounty hunter we’ve been hearing so much about,’ Wolf said. Which perhaps wasn’t the best opening line.

Madison shot him a look that could cause frostbite in midsummer. ‘That would be a Federal Fugitive Recovery Special Agent. And you are?’

‘Never mind him,’ Ben said. ‘Jaden’s an old friend from way back. He’s a little short on social graces.’

‘Hmm,’ Madison said, and eyed Wolf disparagingly for a moment before the megawatt smile came back and she turned to introduce her companions to Ben. ‘This is Aziz Qeyami,’ motioning at the middle-aged man. He was overweight and out of breath, and even in the fading light Ben could see his face was flushed red from the run. ‘My colleague from the Institute,’ she said.

‘Pleased to meet you, Aziz. Thanks for taking care of her.’

‘It was she who took care of us,’ Aziz chuckled, still panting.

‘And this is Ramin, who worked there too. Ramin, come say hi to my friend Ben.’ She beckoned over the youngest of the men. He was maybe thirty, reedy and narrow-shouldered with a mop of unruly dark hair and a somewhat confused expression. ‘Hello,’ he said quietly, which was apparently all they were going to get out of him for now.