The Lear jet had stopped and the cabin door on the far side of the fuselage had opened quickly and closed again – - she had seen that. Then a fuel truck had blocked her view, and next this gang of blond apes had swung into action, leaving her alone for the first time. She’d tried the Mercedes’ doors, even the partition to the driver’s compartment. The first explosion, beyond the fence, had lit up the blonde apes’ jeep more than anything else, even though she had been looking for the reason the door of the plane had been open. When the second rocket went up, she covered her head because she saw just how well the rocket-launcher had led the plane, the way her father had taught her to do with quail and ducks. Who would have come so far for her? They had told her Sam was dead – they believed it. Her shit detector was as good or better than anyone else’s. The main body of the wreckage was burning in the center of the runway as the jeep rolled straight back to the limo. Where there had been four men, now there were three. Question: Where was the man who had launched the first rocket?

Answer: under the burning plane.

One of the survivors chirped a remote door opener. The one with the crooked incisor climbed in first, glared at her, reached over her shoulder, and pushed the door lock button down again. Yes, another one was dead. The one who had spoken up for her in the plane followed the crooked incisor into the back seat. The third, who was young and had the darkest hair, got behind the wheel, and the limo moved out.

They were at the far end of the runway, where the fire caused by the first rocket still burned, when the one with the bad tooth tapped on the partition. As the driver slowed, the bad tooth lowered the side window and peered into the darkness. He looked around at the other guy.

“Keep your mouth shut,” that one said.

“It’s been an expensive day,” said the bad tooth.

“Don’t make it worse.”

The bad tooth grabbed Amy by the hair and pulled her between his legs, raising his pistol above her head. “Bite me this time, bitch, and I’ll leave your brains all over the car.” He slid his free hand from her hair down into her shirt, into the bra of her bathing suit. His fingers passed over her nipple. She could feel the rage in his hand – - he wanted her to give him reason to hurt her. “Nice tit,” he said in triumph.