“Of course I wanted to see you, Ruthie,” said Patton, taking Ruthie’s hand and gently stroking it. “I mean, yes, we need to decrypt that message, but how lucky for me that it brings us back together. I know I was a shit back then, but I’ve missed you, Ruthie, I really have.” Patton was surprised to find that this was the truth, that she even began to tear up as she said it. In spite of the circumstances, in spite of the fact that she had fully intended to feign affection for Ruthie in order to get her to cooperate, it actually was lovely to see her old flame.

“If you needed a decrypt, why didn’t you just do it online?” said Ruthie. “You know there’s a website set up for that.”

“I think that’s another question for our guest. You want to field that one, Erich?”

The screech of the wide barn door being slid sideways on rusty rollers distracted them from Erich’s lack of interest in answering questions. In another moment, Nemo returned to the driver’s seat and cranked the engine.

“This place is perfect,” he said.

“Perfect for what?” said Ruthie.

Nemo did not answer but backed the Mini into the barn where the taillights illuminated a space filled with the detritus of a century or two of farming—old tools, a decrepit-looking tractor, piles of burlap sacks, coils of rope, a few rotting hay bales, and other junk too dust-covered to identify. Nemo hopped out of the car and invited the two women to do likewise. By the time they had extricated themselves from the back seat, he had already pulled Erich out of the passenger side and sat him on the floor, leaning against an old wooden crate.

“Careful you don’t get any splinters from that,” said Nemo. Erich’s only response was to spit in Nemo’s direction. “Oh, a polite one,” said Nemo. “Who are you?”

Silence.

“His name is Erich,” volunteered Ruthie from where she stood in the shadows. Nemo had turned off the Mini’s engine but had left the running lights on to provide some illumination.

“He did tell us that much,” said Patton.

“Erich. A nice German name for a not so nice German man,” said Nemo. “And would you like to tell me why you were shooting at my friend here back in America?”

Silence.

“No? And would you like to tell me who you work for?”

Again, Erich merely stared ahead, expressionless.

“Well then,” said Nemo, “I suppose we need to give you a little motivation to talk to us.”