“Oh, man, tell these pretty chicks what they want to know,” the tattoo artist said. “I got a business to run, and people are probably standing in line waiting for me and my ink. Come on, spill your guts, man. Can’t you see they got you by the short hairs, man?”

The last of the summer sun was gone. Dark clouds scudded across the sky. Somewhere in the distance a roll of thunder could be heard. Donovan and Mateo heard it, too.

“You were going to explain what everything meant,” Zoe prodded.

“It’s a fortresslike compound where Pappy trains his…people. Everything is state-of-the-art. Accommodations are first-class. It’s beyond anything the FBI or the CIA could even think of. Think NORAD in the Cheyenne Mountains in Colorado. It’s on a par with that. The only way in or out is by helicopter.”

Slick blinked. They’d heard tales of NORAD at the Academy. “Who funds an operation like that?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t think Pappy knows either. I told you, it’s a chain of command. Need to know, that kind of thing. Whoever it is must have an unlimited supply of money. Pappy gives me an order, and I follow it or delegate like I did with Mateo. That’s all I can tell you. Now can I go to the bathroom?”

“No,” Sam said. “Tell me where you planted the bugs in the house, and I might change my mind.”

Donovan couldn’t wait to spit out the locations. Slick raced into the house and came back with the three listening devices.

“Now can I go to the bathroom?” Donovan pleaded.

“No,” Sam said.

“Lying bitch,” Donovan moaned.

Sam motioned for the others to follow her through the house and outside again to the front steps, where the women eyed her expectantly.

Sam looked off into the distance. It would rain soon. “I don’t think we’re going to get too much more out of Donovan. Let’s see what happens when we send an email to Pappy. Say all the cats fell out of the cradle. I want to see what the response is. Slick, go on my computer and see what you can find out about Big Pine Mountain and NORAD. If he’s telling us the truth, an operation like this would need virtually unlimited funds. Like some kind of secret government operation. Who else do you know who has unlimited funds? No one, that’s who.”

Kayla typed in the message. She shrugged. A return message surfaced almost instantaneously. “He wants an explanation.” She shoved the Blackberry under Sam’s nose.

“Send this message: Change of heart. They want explicit details, or it’s dead in the water.” Kayla punched in the message.

They waited. They discussed the rain that was about to start falling.

“I love thunderstorms,” Zoe said. “What are we going to do with those two guys?”