Ben couldn’t help but smile. Hamm always looked on the bright side of things. “Busy. Say, I need a favor from you. A big one.”

“Concerning what?”

“My chip.”

Trevor stared at him. “Is this about that New Guinea woman?”

Ben didn’t respond.

“Ben, you’ve lost your job over her. Why are you risking everything else?”

Ben blew into his hands, then looked up at him. “I just have to.”

Ben exited the car and bounded up the stairs to the front doors of the mental hospital. He stopped short of going in and turned to survey his surroundings. His eyes landed on the figure of a woman seated on a bench across the street. Abby. He almost shouted her name, but a car pulled up to the curb between them. Two men in suits got out and moved toward her.

Ben ran down the stairs and into the street, dodging half a dozen automated cars that sped past. By the time he reached the other side, the men had wrestled Abby off the bench and were trying to subdue her. She wasn’t going quietly. One man had his arms wrapped around her torso and was trying to drag her to the waiting car. The other was grabbing Abby’s legs to put an armlock around her ankles. Abby’s kicking was slowing their progress considerably.

Abby clawed the man at her shoulders. He jerked back and lost his grip on her. She hit the cement with a thud. Ben lunged forward, his right hand grabbing the man’s gun from its holster and throwing it into the street. With his left elbow he cracked a blow to the man’s nose, sending him sprawling backward to the ground, spurting blood.

Ben turned just in time to receive a strike on the side of his head. He staggered sideways and fell. He looked up at the second man, still standing above Abby after delivering the blow. The man reached for his holster.

Abby coiled her right leg and kicked him full force in the groin, doubling him over. Ben leaped up and barreled into him like a linebacker. The man hit the sidewalk, his head snapping against the concrete and his gun flying across the ground. Ben punched him in the left cheek, then stood and glanced around. The other man was crawling away.

Abby scrambled to her feet, and Ben grabbed her hand. A small crowd had begun to gather; surely the police had already been called.

“This way! Run!”

They sprinted back across the street to Ben’s car.

“Get in.”

Abby threw herself in. Ben followed. “Point A,” he instructed. The car ambled out of the complex’s driveway. It wouldn’t get them far without being intercepted, he knew. But that wasn’t his primary concern.