“Ma’am, we’re with the FBI. You’re safe now.”

One of the agents raced back. “Sir, we lost him. The bastard popped a smoke grenade and vanished. There’s no way we’ll find him before he’s in Timbuktu.”

Nate looked over to the other Germans, who by now had been trussed up with zip ties. “In that case, let’s take this garbage out and get the lady to a hospital.”

One of the men clapped his hand on Nate’s shoulder. “You do realize that you’ve got a big-ass knife sticking out of your leg?”

Nate grimaced. “Yeah, I’d have to say I’m pretty aware of it.” But he knew better than to pull it out. He might do more damage pulling it out than it did going in.

The man pulled a phone from his all-black fatigues. “I’ll get two ambulances.”

One agent dragged a chair over and said, “Nate, you want to pop a squat?”

Nate shook his head. “I think I’m good leaning against this pole for right now.”

Even though it felt as if someone had shoved a hot coal in the back of his right leg, the pain in his leg took a back seat to his anger over the guy who got away. Who were these people? What did they want with this woman? With Juan?

He had a sinking feeling he’d just put Juan in even greater danger.

###

Frank sat in the mess hall, eating scrambled eggs. Or what they called “scrambled eggs.” It tasted like… nothing. Even with all the hot sauce he’d slathered on.

Kathy sat across from him on the long picnic-style table, eating a green apple and staring off into space, her mind elsewhere.

The visit from the East Coast doctor—Dr. Gutierrez—had gotten everyone’s hopes up. It made them think that maybe they were going to get out of here. It had definitely brightened Kathy’s outlook. And when the doc told Frank he was going to visit Megan and let her know things were okay, that had settled a lot of Frank’s anxiety. Frank didn’t care what happened to him; he just wanted Kathy and his wife to be taken care of.

But that had been a week ago. And they’d heard nothing since.

“Your momma’s probably losing her mind.”

Kathy nodded and sighed. “Juan promised that he’d go talk to her.”

Frank stabbed at another chunk of the rubbery eggs. “Do you trust that doctor?”

“I think I do,” Kathy said. “But then again, I don’t really know. I told you he and I went to dinner once, and it was really nice. He was really nice.”

“Boyfriend-material nice?” Frank asked, arching one eyebrow.