“We’re on the brink,” said Bob. “After all that time of her hiding out up in those mountains, we’re on the brink. I can feel it.”

“I think that’s three pints of beer and jet lag you feel,” said Franklin, pushing back his chair and standing up. “I’m going to go take in a few sights. I’ll see you soldiers in the morning.”

Whether she called it PTSD or shell shock or anything else didn’t matter. Whatever term you used or didn’t use it meant that you would freak the fuck out on occasion because the army put you in a situation no human being should ever have to face. Kandahar, the knife in the knee, the suicide vest in the windowless room—that had been the situation for Patton. The moment she flashed back, her mind turned dark and her pulse rushed and her mouth got so dry she couldn’t swallow. Ironic, she thought, that she could be completely calm under gunfire in her own kitchen, but sitting in the back seat of a parked van brought on the churning stomach and the double vision. Small, dark spaces, the shrink had said. The first thing you can do is avoid small, dark spaces. Easy for her to say. What if you’re forced to spend a few hours with a needy old flame and a friendly assassin hiding in a Munich parking garage? Then how do you avoid small, dark spaces?

“I need to go for a walk,” said Patton, after gritting her teeth for two hours.

“A walk?” said Ruthie. “We’re supposed to be hiding out, aren’t we? And you need to go for a walk?”

“Yes,” said Patton sharply as she opened the door, “I need to go for a walk. Is there part of that sentence you don’t understand?”

“I just . . .” Ruthie recoiled from Patton’s venom, looking chastised and confused.

“Let her go,” said Nemo quietly. Patton didn’t understand how a man who had spent so little time in the company of other people could so quickly comprehend her feelings. It had taken him one glance at her face in the murky light that came in through the open door to flash her a look of complete understanding. “Just keep your cap pulled down, don’t look up at any CCTV cameras, and be back by dusk.”

“And you’re going to just leave me here with him?” said Ruthie.

“You’ll sleep better without me,” said Patton, and then, already feeling the terror starting to ebb away just from the simple act of deciding to leave, she added, with a wink, “You never did get much sleep with me around, anyway.”