“My opinion, for whatever it’s worth, is that the three of us would have made good FBI agents. We had the basics and aside from Slick’s thumb strength and Sam and I not being able to scale the wall, we have the edge over just about everyone who was in that room, assuming the others are FBI or CIA rejects,” Hawkins said.

Kayla tugged at her cropped top, and said, “The classes are small, so we’ll get individual attention. Remember in school when there were thirty kids to a class and you tended to get lost. We’re green as grass, but we can learn,” she said confidently. “I know how to be a team player. I think the rest of you feel the same way.”

Olivia fiddled with the ring on her finger. Her voice was stubborn-sounding when she said, “We should make a game plan on our own, just the six of us, in case things go awry at some point in time. We don’t have to do it right now, but we need to put something in place. I think we’ll all sleep better if we do.”

Team Three was outside the company store when Zoe led the little group over to a wooden bench under a pungent pine tree. Slick took the initiative and checked out the bench for listening devices in anticipation of Zoe’s saying something that wasn’t for anyone’s ears but their own. Hawkins looked up at the tree and shook his head. They all moved off to a clearing to stand in a cluster under the golden sunshine. Though they realized they might be overheard if a long-range listening device was being utilized, sometimes one had to take a chance.

“That bench was put there for a reason,” Hawkins said. “So, what were you going to say, Zoe?”

“Just that I called my brother from a phone booth before we left and told him I was going away for a while and not to worry. I told him a bit of a fib and said I was doing a government job. Joey didn’t ask any questions because he understands confidentiality stuff. So this is what I arranged—if any of us get into trouble, we call him. I’ll give you his number, but you have to memorize it. I told him all your names except for you, Hawkins, since I didn’t know about you. Not to worry, though, I gave him a code word. It’s Buckaroo. We used to have a dog named Buckaroo. He didn’t have a tail, and one of his ears was crooked. God, how I loved that dog. Joey did, too. When Buckaroo died, we had him cremated. Joey has his ashes.” She rattled off a number in Riverside, California. “Joey will help us if…if…things get out of hand. He’s a vice cop.”