She stifled a small yawn as she grabbed for the sterling silver coffeepot to pour herself another cup of coffee, her third this morning. She rarely had more than one cup of coffee in the morning, since she rarely got up before noon most days, but Friday market day on Nassau was always the exception. On those days when she was permitted to accompany Hattie on her weekly shopping trip, she was always up, dressed, and at the dining room table by 5:00 a.m. sharp, drinking cup after cup of strong, black coffee in preparation for the morning’s activities.

The farmer’s market opened at 6:00 a.m., but Hattie always liked to be there as the vendors were setting out their wares so she could spot the best produce before the place was crowded and everything was picked over. Since it was a thirty-minute commute by high-speed launch, they left here no later than 5:10 to arrive at the waterfront market in plenty of time for Hattie’s before-hours inspection. In her opinion, that was an ungodly hour to be doing anything, let alone jetting across the open sea simply to purchase food for the coming week, but those market days were the only times she was allowed off the island without Armand at her side, so, week after week, she’d gladly exchanged those few extra hours of sleep for the serenity of time alone.

Not that she was ever really alone on these trips. Andrew and Kirby were always there, tailing her. And, of course, Hattie was there, too, but she considered her a friend - one of the few of the staff who was actually friendly to her all the time, not simply when Armand was around. But these trips still afforded her her only opportunities to actually see and interact with real people, and not the sycophants and users who populated Armand’s world. And most of all these trips gave her time away from Armand, who seemed intent to smother her with his constant presence all the rest of the time.

But today was her final trip to the market with Hattie. Not only was today Friday and market day, but it was also the day that she planned to finally escape Armand and the claustrophobic world he’d built around her. She only hoped that luck would be with her today because, if it wasn’t… Well, she didn’t want to think about that possibility.

She’d been up half the night planning today’s escape, which is why she couldn’t seem to stop yawning now. But, despite her fatigue, she also felt an underlying excitement at the prospect of true freedom after all this time.

But she was also afraid. Afraid of not only what would happen to her if she was caught, but also afraid of what truly was out there waiting for her in the real world.

If anything at all was waiting for her…

Or anyone…

And that scared her more than anything else. Terrified her, in fact. Even the possibility of being caught and dragged back to Armand didn’t frighten her nearly as much as the thought that there really was no one else out there who loved and wanted her. That she had no home, other than locked up here with Armand. That her dreams were simply that - just dreams.

A shudder went through her at that thought, and she decided that she couldn’t afford to even consider that bleak possibility. She had to stay positive and focused, not let her fear win out, otherwise she’d end up sabotaging herself. And she had enough going against her as it was.

Despite the fact that she’d spent most of the night planning this escape, she knew that her chances of actually carrying this off were slim, at best. But still she had to at least try. This was definitely her best chance for an escape. Armand was winging his way halfway around the world at this very moment, and he’d taken Andrew with him. That meant that only Kirby and Hattie would be accompanying her this morning, and Hattie would be busy shopping and dickering. That left Kirby to watch her, but even he could be diverted and distracted.

On those Fridays when she’d watched Hattie and the crowds at the waterfront market, she’d also taken the time to watch her bodyguards. Andrew always remained focused only on her and was not easily distracted. But, fortunately for her, Armand had chosen to take Andrew with him and leave Kirby behind to watch her because Kirby was another story altogether. In fact, Kirby could easily be distracted, especially if the daughter of a certain flower vendor happened to be there this week.

But the flower vendor’s daughter wasn’t always there, so she hadn’t counted on her to distract Kirby enough for her to make her escape. She just hoped that what she did have planned would be enough to fool Kirby…

“Miss Veronica, if you’re comin’ with me, you’d best be hurryin’!” Hattie’s announcement brought her quickly out of her contemplation. She looked up to see the black cook, her hair neatly pulled back with bright combs and covered with a colorful scarf that matched her equally colorful dress, scurrying across the dining room, clearing the table as she walked. On the other five days that Hattie worked (She had Sundays off to attend church, as Hattie held that day as a sacred day for the Lord.), Armand insisted that she wear a pale gray uniform, like the rest of the household staff. But on market day, Hattie was allowed to dress up, as she’d convinced Armand long ago that she did her best dealing when she looked and felt pretty.

And Hattie was a pretty woman, no matter what she wore. With her dark skin, the color of rich mahogany and still wrinkle-free, despite her age; her ever-present smile that showed her even, white teeth to perfection; as well as her ebullient personality, she looked and acted far younger than her fifty-one years of age, especially dressed as she was today. In fact, if she had not been shown pictures of Hattie’s grown children and young grandchildren by the woman herself, she would have thought her a good fifteen years younger than her actual age. Most people - especially the newer male vendors at the marketplace - labored under that mistaken impression, and Hattie used that to her advantage, as she flirted and cajoled for the best prices on the best products.

“I’m finished and ready to go,” Veronica smiled, standing and pointing to the large shoulder tote bag beside her that she always took with her on market day.

Hattie nodded, as she grabbed the large silver tray holding the sterling silver coffee service and headed back through the swinging door and into the large, restaurant-style kitchen. “If you’re gonna be eatin’ one of those breakfast rolls, you’d best be grabbin’ it now, ‘cause that tray is the next thing to go!” Hattie called back over her shoulder, giving her a grin as she left and hitting the door open with a quick twitch of her hips. Hattie knew that she had a particular fondness for her lighter-than-air croissants (which Hattie called her “breakfast rolls”), and she always took an extra one with her on market day to eat mid-morning.

But if all went as planned today, she’d need more than just one croissant to carry her through the day because she had no idea when and where her next meal would be. She quickly retrieved her linen napkin that she’d just tossed onto the table and spread it open, grabbing the remaining three croissants and wrapping them securely in the napkin, then stowing the carefully wrapped breads inside her tote bag with the rest of the things she’d packed. She hadn’t brought much and she’d packed what she had brought carefully so that her large tote bag still appeared fairly empty for the supposed big day of shopping ahead of her. She certainly didn’t want Kirby or Hattie to wonder why she was going shopping with a tote bag that was already half full.

Hattie raced back into the dining room just in time to see her close the bag. “Why you always take that big thing with you, child, when you never buy more than a trinket or two at the most?” Hattie asked, nodding toward the large bag. Then, not waiting for her to answer, Hattie reached for the tray on the table that had previously held the three croissants, only to find it empty now. She furrowed her brow and looked at her suspiciously. “You must be plannin’ some major shoppin’today, child, to need all that for the mornin’!”

She simply shrugged her shoulders and smiled at the cook, deciding it was better to say nothing, rather than risk a possible slip that might tip Hattie to her real reason for taking all the croissants.

Hattie didn’t pursue it any further either, thinking the girl could use a few pounds on her anyway, although she did wonder why Miss Veronica had finally decided to start eating this morning when she’d spent nearly every meal of the past several months simply picking at her food. She also noticed that Miss Veronica seemed a bit excited this morning - more so than her usual market day excitement. Does this have somethin’ to do with Mr. Armand bein’ gone? she wondered.

Although Hattie made it a practice never to gossip about her employer like the rest of the household staff did, she couldn’t help but notice that Miss Veronica was never as enthusiastic or demonstrative toward Mr. Cordoba as he was toward her. Of course, she had seemed to warm appreciatively toward him over the past couple of days, but she still didn’t act like a woman in love, and Hattie had often wondered why that was? They were engaged to be married, after all. But there was just something about their relationship that didn’t seem right to Hattie, and she often wondered if it had something to do with Miss Veronica’s terrible accident?

Of course, none of the other domestic help knew any more than she did about that relationship because they hadn’t known Mr. Cordoba or Miss Veronica before the accident either. They had all been hired just weeks before Miss Veronica came home from the clinic. For some reason, that no one knew or understood, Armand Cordoba had simply fired all of his previous household staff not long after he’d moved Miss Veronica from the hospital in Canada, where she’d been taken immediately after her accident, to the private clinic here in the Bahamas, where she spent several months before coming here. Hattie had always wondered about that mass firing, but she’d never asked, feeling that if it were something that she’d needed to know, Mr. Cordoba would have told her. Mr. Cordoba paid her generously to cook and keep his kitchen running smoothly, and she didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. And questioning anything Mr. Cordoba did now or in the past would definitely jeopardize this sweet job - the best job she’d ever had in her life.

Mr. Cordoba had always been cordial to her, and she had no desire to do anything to provoke the man’s anger, which was legendary. Hattie had seen how he’d treated others of the staff when they’d displeased him, and it was anything but pleasant And she’d also seen the way he’d often treated poor Miss Veronica, especially when she would openly defy him. Not that he ever laid a hand on the girl, but Hattie knew that the other punishments he’d doled out for Miss Veronica on occasion - including being locked in her room for days on end - hurt the girl more than any beating ever could. And Mr. Cordoba knew that, too. But the man could also be very generous to those who didn’t cross him in any way, and so Hattie had made it her business to stay permanently on the man’s good side, which meant keeping her nose out of his dealings with Miss Veronica and out of Miss Veronica’s business, as well.

“Well, we best be gettin’ down to the boat, Miss Veronica,” Hattie announced, as she picked up the empty croissant tray and walked back through the swinging door and into the kitchen, beckoning for her to follow, which she did. Hattie put the tray with the other dishes, left some last minute instructions for Macy, who also worked in the kitchen, then grabbed her shopping list and her own over-sized bag and headed for the door that led outside.

“Hope you got an umbrella and a jacket in that bag of yours,” Hattie proclaimed, glancing at the red-streaked dawn sky as they both stepped outside, “‘cause, mark my words, it’s gonna rain ‘fore the mornin’s done. Wouldn’t want that pretty dress of yours gettin’ all wet, Miss Veronica.”

“Veronica” just smiled again, knowing that if all went as she had planned she would be out of this dress and out of the area long before that first drop of rain ever hit.

“Were you able to get everything?” Jax asked anxiously, as he opened the door of his dingy motel room to let Chuck inside.

“Hey, have I ever let you down?” Chuck grinned, tossing the gym bag he was carrying onto the bed, then handing Jax one of the two coffees he had in his hands.

Jax eagerly took the lid off the cup and took a first sip of the hot coffee, immediately grimacing as he swallowed. “God, this stuff is awful!” he sputtered, heading into the bathroom to dump the nasty brew.

“Too strong, huh?” Chuck asked, as he took the lid off his coffee then and took a sip, also grimacing at the taste. “Ummm… sorry, but the restaurant at my hotel doesn’t open this early -” He pointed to his watch. “ - it’s not even 5:00 a.m. yet, you know - so I stopped at the only place I saw open on my way here, and that’s the bar across the parking lot here.”

“Geez, what were you trying to do - poison us?” Jax said, as he poured the contents of the styrofoam cup into the bathroom sink, then picked up his bottle of mouthwash and took a quick swig, rinsing his mouth with it, then spitting that into the sink and wiping his mouth with a nearby towel. “Motor oil would probably taste better than that!”

“What doesn’t kill us, only makes us stronger,” Chuck quipped, as he also dumped his coffee into the sink, then followed Jax back out of the bathroom.

“Ugh! I wouldn’t be so sure about it not killing us,” Jax answered, shaking his head, as he breezed past Chuck and back into the bedroom to retrieve a couple of unopened bottled waters off the dresser. “I think even the smell was lethal,” he shuddered, as he handed Chuck a bottled water, then opened his own bottle, taking a long drink.

“Well, at least it woke us both up,” Chuck grinned, as he took a drink of his water, then set it down on the dresser. “You get any sleep last night or were you up all night memorizing this?” he asked, grabbing the map of Nassau, marked with dozens of red dots that indicated areas that Cordoba’s cook frequented, from off the nearby chair.

“Just half the night,” Jax admitted, taking the map from Chuck and folding it up and slipping it into his back pocket. “And I slept with it the other half of the night.”

“Hopefully, you’ll have something far better to sleep with tonight,” Chuck offered softly, watching as Jax’s face lit up at the mere thought of that.

“Brenda…” Jax smiled, his voice barely more than the whisper of the hope he held deep in his heart. “We’ll find her today - I’m sure of it,” he added confidently, his doubts of the previous night now pushed aside. He grabbed for the gym bag and opened it, dumping its contents onto the middle of the unmade bed. “I’m impressed, Chuck!” he exclaimed, surveying the vast array of equipment that his friend had been able to acquire on such short notice. “It was after midnight when you left here last night!”

“Hey, your dad deserves the credit for knowing where to score this stuff, not me! I just followed his directions,” Chuck admitted, as he held up a tiny electronic receiver and handed it to Jax.

Jax nodded and put the earpiece into his right ear, then glanced into the dresser mirror to make sure it was not visible. “So, you didn’t get any more sleep than I did,” Jax replied, his eyebrows raised as he looked closely at his friend’s haggard face. “You didn’t bother to shave either,” he laughed, rubbing his own face and the several days of growth still there, which was far worse than Chuck’s light stubble.

Chuck merely shrugged. “Hey, I figure the scruffy look makes me look like I’m here takin’ it easy. I’ll blend in better with all the vacationers this way. As for the lost sleep, I’ll have plenty of time to catch up on that once we’ve got Brenda back… Besides, I thought we’d be having some strong coffee to perk us both up this morning,” he grinned.

Jax laughed and shook his head again. “We needed coffee to perk us up, not make us puke! … Listen, according to the map, there are at least a dozen places between here and the marketplace where we can get a decent cup of coffee - maybe some fruit or pastries, too.” He glanced down at his watch. “It’s still early enough that we can afford to take the time to get fortified, even if we’ll have to eat the stuff in our cars. The marketplace doesn’t open for business until around 6:00 a.m., but I think our best chance of snatching Brenda will be once the crowds start to arrive, probably between 9 and 10, but we’ll just have to play it by ear.”

“But we’re still planning to get there early, right?” Chuck asked, as he put his own earpiece in, then handed Jax a pair of sunglasses, taking an identical pair for himself.

“Yeah, 5:45 at the latest. It’s just a 20-minute drive from here, so we have a little time before we need to leave,” he replied, as he examined the sunglasses. “These will still pick up what I’m saying even if I’m not wearing them?” Jax asked, looking to Chuck for confirmation.

“Yeah,” Chuck nodded, “they should easily transmit even in your shirt pocket, like this.” He slid his pair of glasses into the breast pocket of his tropical print shirt. “We’ll test them on the seat beside you on the drive over, but I’d say we’d have better transmission if they are at least somewhere on the body - either on the face or in a shirt pocket… Oh, before I forget, here’s an extra set of keys for my rental car and here’s the originals back of your keys to your car,” he said, reaching into his pocket and retrieving two sets of keys and handing them to Jax.

“And you kept a copy of my keys for my car, right?” Jax asked, although he already knew the answer even before Chuck nodded. “I can’t believe that 24-hour key-making has come to Nassau,” Jax laughed, shaking his head.

“You’d be surprised what’s open all night on this island,” Chuck commented.

“Evidently just about everything but a good coffee shop,” Jax smirked, which made Chuck snort, as he grabbed for his water bottle and took another drink.

“What about the jet?” Chuck asked, wiping some water drops from his mouth with the back of his hand.

“It’s taken care of,” Jax replied. “Dad called earlier to tell me that the men pretending to be you and me flew out of Nassau International Airport with it at 1:00 this morning, headed for Port Charles, New York. Since Cordoba would undoubtedly have learned sooner or later that I was here since my jet was at the airport, we decided it would be a smart idea to get ‘me’ and my jet back to the States before Brenda went missing. That way my family and I will have a higher deniability factor when he comes looking for her.”

“Do you really expect that he will?” Chuck asked, taking another drink, then setting the bottle back onto the dresser.

“From what I’ve been able to find about the man, I’d be surprised if he didn’t come after her,” Jax replied solemnly, grabbing for his own bottle of water and taking a long drink. “He probably sees her as a possession, and this man does not part willingly with anything he considers his, unless he’s the one in control of the deal.”

“Probably why he’s so successful at what he does,” Chuck commented, to which Jax just nodded. “Is our transportation out of here ready?”

“Yeah,” Jax nodded. “Dad arranged for a small cargo plane to be waiting on an out-of-the-way runway on Eleuthera Island. That’s an hour ride by high-speed launch from Nassau, then another twenty minutes by car to the plane. He’ll have both the launch and the car waiting at the spots we discussed last night.”

“And if we get separated?” Chuck asked.

“We wait no more than fifteen minutes for the other one,” Jax replied, “then whoever has Brenda takes the launch to the plane and gets the hell out of here. You have enough cash, if you get left behind?”

Chuck nodded, but said nothing.

“Good - But, hopefully, we’ll both be leaving with Brenda,” Jax replied, as he rummaged through the remaining pile on the bed. “Where are the fake passports?” he asked, looking up at Chuck as he awaited his reply.

Chuck gave a deep sigh then. “Ran into a little snag there.”

“What kind of a snag?” Jax asked anxiously.

“Just a little one,” Chuck assured him. “Seems the guy your dad recommended has no problem with getting you and Brenda the forged papers you’ll need - and he’s more than happy with what your dad’s willing to pay…”

“So, what’s the problem?” Jax asked, when Chuck hesitated.

“The man wants you and Brenda to personally pick them up.”

“What?!” Jax exploded. “Why does he want that?!”

Chuck gave another deep sigh as he continued: “He says he’s an artist and he does his best work when his subjects are there with him.”

“Artist?! He’s got a bloody computer to print the things for him! If I had a Polaroid camera, a computer, and a laminator here, I could make my own documents and do a good enough job to fool most people,” Jax ranted.

“True,” Chuck agreed, “but we don’t have any of that and he does - He’s got us over a barrel, Jax.”

Jax paced back and forth for a moment, as he considered this obstacle. He needed those forged papers in order for Brenda and him to disappear for a while, but he hated to have to waste valuable time after they actually had Brenda in order to get them. It would have been so much cleaner and simpler if they could have gotten them before they went after her. “Dad trusts him, right?” Jax finally asked, looking up at Chuck expectantly.

Chuck nodded. “More importantly, Jerry trusts him,” he added quietly.

Chuck’s mention of his brother threw Jax momentarily. “Jerry?… Has dad heard from Jerry?” Jax asked excitedly, wondering why his father hadn’t told him that this morning when they’d spoken.

Chuck shrugged. “I didn’t ask and he didn’t say,” Chuck replied honestly. “Your dad just said that this is the guy that made the documents for Jerry when he disappeared.”

“How did dad know?” Jax wondered aloud. “I mean, I didn’t even know, and I arranged Jerry’s disappearance with Corinthos… Only Corinthos and Jerry knew the particulars, including who would supply his passport and birth certificate…” His voice trailed off, as he wondered if his father had possibly deceived him yet again about his mob contacts.

Chuck knew exactly where Jax’s mind was leading him, and he knew that this was the worst possible time for him to lose faith in his father again. “Jax, ya gotta focus here on the task at hand, and that’s getting Brenda back as soon as possible. I trust your father and, deep down, so do you. Sure, he’s made mistakes in the past, but he’s learned from those mistakes,” he pointed out. “Besides, he hates Corinthos as much as you do and for the very same reason - what he did to Brenda. He wouldn’t be secretly working with him, even if it meant keeping tabs on Jerry. He loves Jerry, sure, but he loves you and Brenda just as much, and he knows that if he was working with Corinthos on anything it would kill any possibility of having a relationship with you!”

Jax hoped that Chuck was right about his father, but whether he was or not, he didn’t have time to be wondering about it now. Now he needed to be concentrating on getting Brenda away from Cordoba and safely out of the Bahamas. “You’re right - this is not the time to be thinking about anything but Brenda,” Jax finally said. “Give me the guy’s address and phone number… I’m gonna trust that this guy’s on the level with us, but he’d better have our documents ready in record time once we get there!”

“Your dad says he’s fast, too, so I don’t think there will be a problem there,” Chuck replied, as he handed Jax a paper with the pertinent information on it.

Jax nodded and slipped the folded paper into the back pocket of his khakis, as Chuck handed him a miniature pair of folding binoculars, slipping his own pair into a pocket of his cargo pants.

“Cute!” Jax laughed, as held the tiny lenses up to his face and looked out the window. “Whoa - but extremely powerful! I can’t believe the strength and clarity of these things!” he added, as he folded them back and slipped them in the front pocket of his pants, then reached down to pick up a canister off the bed.

“Hey! Careful with that!” Chuck warned. “You accidentally open that and we’ll both be unconscious for at least the next thirty minutes.”

Jax nodded. “Why are there only two gas masks here?” he asked, as he opened the gym bag again to see if a third mask had remained inside.

“Mine’s stowed under the driver’s seat in my rental car,” Chuck explained. “Might be a good idea to put yours and Brenda’s under the front seat of your car, too. I’ll take the canister with me, but I’ll wait to use it on your signal. Hopefully, we can pull this off without having to knock out hundreds of innocent bystanders.”

Jax nodded again, then he sighed as he looked at the last two items remaining in the middle of the bed. He picked up one of the two guns and checked to make sure it was loaded, then sited it across the room, never saying a word.

“Let’s hope those are our tools of last resort,” Chuck commented, noting the grim expression on Jax’s face.

“Yeah, but this is an arms dealer and his shoot-first, ask-questions-later flunkies that we’re dealing with here. Somehow I doubt we’ll be able to pull this off without using these at some point,” Jax replied bleakly. “Let’s just hope that no one gets hurt in the crossfire - or killed…”

It seemed to be taking forever to travel from the island to Nassau this morning, a trip that normally flew by for her. She usually enjoyed watching the sun rise and feeling the cool spray of ocean mist waft over her as the high-speed launch made its way through the brilliant blue waters of the Atlantic, but today it felt like pure torture. Pulling her windbreaker more tightly around herself, she tried not to fidget, as she leaned back in her seat, keenly aware that both Kirby and Hattie seemed to be eyeing her suspiciously.

What if they know what I’m planning? she panicked, her heart pounding wildly as her anxiety mounted.

That’s impossible! she told herself logically. But they will know something’s up if you don’t get yourself under control - and fast.

She closed her eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath, willing herself to calm down.

“You okay, Miss Veronica?” she heard Hattie ask.

She opened her eyes and looked over at Hattie. “Yes, I think I just had a little too much coffee this morning - that’s all,” she assured her.

“Maybe you should be eatin’ one of those breakfast rolls now,” Hattie suggested. “Puttin’ some food in that stomach of yours will help settle it - and you… You should know better than to be makin’ this trip on an empty stomach!” she scolded with the confident air of both the knowledgeable mother and grandmother that she was.

She smiled at that, realizing that Hattie was not concerned that she might be planning to escape, but, rather, concerned that she might be planning to hurl all over the place, especially on Hattie’s nice, new dress. She reached into her tote and tore off a piece of one of the croissants, making sure to rewrap the rest so they wouldn’t dry out or get crumbs on anything else in the bag. She took a bite and chewed, watching as that small action brought a self-satisfied smile to Hattie’s face. She realized at that very moment that, despite the fact that she was eager to escape Armand Cordoba and his world, she would genuinely miss Hattie Winston and her mothering.

Mothering…

Maybe she had a mother of her own out there somewhere, she thought wistfully. Of course, Armand had told her that her parents were both dead, but that was just one of the many things that Armand had told her that she could no longer seem to believe. None of what he’d told her about herself felt right to her, and she was eager to get started looking for the real her. She had no idea where she’d go to find out about who she really was and where she belonged, she only knew that it had to be far away from Armand Cordoba and anywhere but here.

She finished off the last of the piece of croissant, then reached back inside her tote to retrieve a bottle of water. She’d stolen three of these from the refrigerator in the bar in Armand’s suite last night when she’d snuck in there to “borrow” a few other things she thought she might need.

She suppressed her urge to smile, as she remembered how she’d outmaneuvered both Armand’s security team and his security system as she’d broken into his private suite last night to raid not only his refrigerator, but also the locked drawer in his desk, where he kept his stash of petty cash. Luckily for her, that had turned out to be anything but petty - there had been close to ten thousand dollars there and she’d taken every last dollar of it. She’d also found a small gun there, which she’d hesitated to steal, but knowing that the success of today’s escape was far from guaranteed, she’d finally decided to take it. And now that she had it, she fully intended to use it - even on herself, if need be. But one way or another, she was escaping this life and moving onto another. Even death had to be better than this purgatory she’d been trapped in since the accident.

She felt the launch operator ease up on the throttle, indicating they were nearing their destination. She recapped her water, slipping it back into the bag, then leaned back and took another deep breath, once again trying to calm her nerves as she realized there was no turning back now, no matter what. Soon someone on the security staff would discover the money and the gun missing and it wouldn’t take very long for the trail to lead directly to her. She realized she was doomed even if she wanted to call this whole thing off now, which she didn’t.

She looked up as the launch operator eased the launch into its slip on the boat dock. The car was likely waiting for them, then it was just a short ride to the marketplace. The stage was set for her final act. She stood up, slipping the windbreaker off and sliding it into her bag and slinging the long handle of the tote over her shoulder, then patting the bag to make sure it was securely tucked beneath her arm. Then, moving to step off the launch for one last time, she whispered under her breath: “One way or another, it won’t be long now…”

Jax took another sip of his coffee, savoring the flavor of the rich, aromatic brew. Now, this was what coffee was meant to taste like! It almost made him forget that swill that Chuck had brought them earlier. He started to reach for the banana he’d bought when he’d stopped for the coffee, but the sight of a long, black limousine pulling up in front of the marketplace caught his attention, making his heart race. Chuck’s sources had said that on the days that Cordoba’s cook went shopping alone, a jeep dropped her off and picked her up, but on the days that Brenda accompanied the woman they traveled in a limo.

He set the coffee on the dash and pulled his binoculars out of his pocket, focusing them as the limo’s driver jumped out and ran around to open the door for his passengers. “Chuck!” he said excitedly. “Do you see the limo?”

Chuck was parked a few blocks away, and on the other side of the street.

The tiny receiver in Jax’s ear vibrated with the sound of Chuck’s rich laughter. “Pretty hard to miss, wouldn’t ya say, even from this distance?” Chuck laughed. “Especially with these binoculars! Bet I could count the driver’s teeth from here and even how many fillings he’s got if he opened his mouth.”

Jax said nothing, instead holding his breath expectantly as the first passenger filed out of the back - a very large black man, who looked like he could stop a truck simply by stepping in front of it.

“Must be one of the two bodyguards who always travel with her when she comes here,” Chuck murmured. “It’s likely the second bodyguard will be the next out, then the cook, and Brenda last,” he added, as they both watched the mountain of a man give the surrounding area a quick scan, then bend slightly to speak to someone inside the limo.

“Yeah,” was all that Jax could say, as his mouth was suddenly dry with anticipation.

But the next person out was not another bodyguard, but a small, black woman. “Must be the cook. Second bodyguard will probably be next, then Brenda,” Chuck noted, as Jax said nothing.

But as they watched, a very tan, very slender, very feminine pair of legs appeared from inside the limo, as a second woman emerged from the limo, and she looked very much like Brenda.

“Hot damn! It’s Brenda, and she’s only got one bodyguard today!” Chuck shouted, as they watched the limo driver close the door after she had gotten out.

But Jax wasn’t focusing on how many bodyguards there were; he was focusing on this woman who looked exactly like his Brenda.

But is she really Brenda or simply someone who looks like her? that voice of fear and doubt in his head wondered.

But, in a matter of seconds, as he zoomed in for an even closer look, he had his answer. “It’s Brenda! It’s really her!” he whispered hoarsely, choking back the tears of joy he felt as the evidence that he hadn’t been just chasing a dream manifested itself in full clarity and detail. There, on the ring finger of her left hand, was the one-of-a-kind pink sapphire engagement ring - the very ring he’d placed there himself just weeks before she’d disappeared!

She tried to act bored, as she followed Hattie from vendor to vendor, while the woman made her usual rounds, flirting and cajoling and dealing to her heart’s content, but she was having a hard time hiding both her excitement and her anxiety. She glanced at her watch. It was 7:50 a.m., and the marketplace, which had been open for nearly two hours now, was filled with locals, there to do their weekly shopping. The tourists rarely came this early, generally beginning to trickle in between 8:00 and 9:00, with the crowd hitting its peak by noon or a little after. They usually had to leave before then, though, because Hattie insisted that she needed to get the food back to her kitchen as soon as possible, otherwise it would be wilted or stale and then her early morning rounds would simply have been a waste of time.

Despite the fact that there were lots of people milling around, she wanted to wait until there were even more people here before she made her move. But she didn’t want to wait too long, just in case Hattie decided, for one reason or another, that she wanted to leave even earlier than usual. Don’t go borrowing trouble, she silently scolded herself. No, she certainly didn’t need to borrow any trouble, did she, as she had more than enough trouble as it was. Hattie wasn’t paying any attention to her, as she seemed to be having the time of her life today, but Kirby was a very different story.

Though no one would ever mistake Kirby for an extrovert, he did usually talk to her and smile occasionally when he was guarding her. But today he was all business. It was like Andrew’s spirit had somehow taken possession of Kirby’s body for the day, replacing the somewhat genial man with this gruff and grunting cyborg. He seemed to never take his eyes off her this morning or never even blink, for that matter. How on earth does he do that? she wondered, as she glanced at him surreptitiously from beneath the large brim of the sun hat she’d just purchased.

She wished that something or someone would draw his rapt attention from her, but the flower vendor’s daughter wasn’t here this morning, so she supposed she’d have to go on to Plan B to get away from him. She almost laughed out loud at that thought. Plan B? She barely had a Plan A, let alone a backup plan. Still, she wished the vendor’s daughter were there to distract Kirby…

Then she noticed Kirby’s eyes actually move from her to the other side of the marketplace, and she followed his gaze to the new focus of his attention - the flower vendor’s daughter! She was there, after all!

She suddenly felt like jumping for joy, as she realized that freedom - real freedom, not simply escape - might actually be within her reach after all. But she somehow managed to contain her excitement, allowing herself a small smile as she watched Kirby’s face light up at the sight of the object of his obvious affection. Things were falling into place for her: Hattie was too busy socializing to notice her and Kirby’s full attention was no longer focused solely on her. Now, all she needed was to bide her time until the crowd thickened, then she’d have the perfect time to make her escape.

Despite the overwhelming urge that he felt to jump out of his car and rush over to Brenda and simply grab her out from under the bodyguard’s nose, Jax had listened to Chuck’s voice of reason and stayed in the car and at a safe distance, watching with his binoculars and biding his time. It was killing him to be so close, yet so far from her, but even this was better than what he’d endured for the past two years. At least now he was actually seeing her again, alive and in the flesh, even if it was from a distance of several hundred yards.

He had almost forgotten how incredibly beautiful she was. Even sitting as she was now at a little café and doing nothing more than sipping iced tea, she attracted the attention of nearly every male that walked by. And she certainly had his rapt attention. In fact, he couldn’t take his eyes off her, and he watched her intently, mesmerized by every little movement she made as she drank her refreshment, from the casual flip of her long, silky hair to the occasional swipe of her tongue as she licked across her full, luscious lips.

God, how he’d missed even the littlest things about her - the way she chewed her bottom lip when she was wrestling with a decision and the way she squealed with delight at the simplest gift and the way she could simply look up at him with those incredible, big brown eyes of hers and make him forget his own name. He could hardly wait until she was truly back with him again and then he would never again take for granted anything about her - even the little things.

“You awake over there, pal?” Chuck’s voice came through loud and clear in Jax’s earpiece, breaking him out of his reverie. “All I hear comin’ from your end is heavy breathin’,” he added, snickering, as he had a pretty good idea what Jax had been doing for the past several minutes and it had nothing to do with catching up on his sleep.

That comment made Jax laugh, too. “What do you think?” he asked, never taking his eyes of Brenda or her bodyguard, who remained alert and never seemed to be more than a foot away from her at any time.

“I think it’s time we get this show on the road, pal. That’s what I think,” Chuck replied, a slight edge suddenly in his voice. “We both need to move our cars closer - we don’t want to risk having to run blocks just to get to a vehicle. I saw a spot just a few yards from the front entrance, and I’m headed there now. I don’t see anything else this close, but there’s an area in the back where the vendors come and go that might be a good place for you to park - close, but basically inconspicuous. Might be the better way to take her once we have her, too.”

“Sounds like a plan, but I can’t see that area from where I’m parked and I’d hate to lose this spot if I don’t have another, closer place to park,” Jax replied.

“Not a problem,” Chuck replied, as he finished parking his car in its new spot. “I’m just ready to get out and play tourist now, but I’ll circle around back first and tell you when to move. Keep your eyes peeled on Brenda while I’m gone,” he added, once again snickering, as he pulled his sunglasses from out of his shirt pocket and put them on.

“Not a problem,” Jax laughed, echoing his friend’s earlier sentiments, although he did look away from Brenda long enough to note exactly where Chuck had parked his little white car, which looked nearly identical to Jax’s own rental car and the hundreds of other cars, rented and owned, that clogged the island on a daily basis. The color and make of both of their cars had been a conscious choice on their parts. They wanted to be able to blend in with the crowd as they made their escape this morning, unlike the black limo, that stuck out like a sore thumb around here and would likely have difficulty maneuvering at high speed and in dense traffic. That would, hopefully, work to their advantage.

“Okay, I’m behind the marketplace, and there are two or three spots open, but you’d better hurry,” Chuck’s voice advised him. “Give me a minute or so to get inside and get Brenda within sight, then move your car.”

“Thanks, Chuck,” Jax answered, lowering his binoculars but still keeping his eyes on Brenda and her ever-present bodyguard as he slipped on his sunglasses. “It won’t be long now…” he murmured, momentarily forgetting about the transmitter in his sunglasses.

“Did you say something?” Chuck asked, although he knew that he had; he’d heard Jax loud and clear. The range and clarity on these electronic transmitters and receivers was incredible!

“I’m just ready to get moving, that’s all, Chuck,” Jax replied, continuing to stare at Brenda, who was just starting on her second iced tea, which meant she would likely be there at the table for several more minutes at least. That would give him time to move the car and get himself in position in the mezzanine, as well.

“Okay, Jax, I’m about a hundred feet to the left of Brenda and I have her clearly in my sight, so you can move anytime,” Chuck announced then.

“Moving now,” Jax said, turning the key in the ignition as he gave one last look at Brenda before checking to make sure it was clear to pull out of the space, then pulling out and driving around to the back of the marketplace. By the time that he arrived there, only one of the three spaces Chuck had spotted just minutes before remained, and it was by a dumpster and near the center of the building, rather than at one end or the other. That made it more difficult for a fast escape, but Jax was just happy to have found a space to park. Besides, it was considerably closer than he had been.

He jumped out of the car and walked quickly toward the mezzanine of the marketplace, not bothering to lock the car, since he doubted a car thief would bother with a run-of-the mill, common model as that. Besides, there was nothing of value to him inside the car; the only thing in the world that he held dear was inside that marketplace, and he got closer to having her back with each step that he took.

She smiled as the tourists began pouring into the area in droves. Despite the possible threat of rain, the place was rapidly becoming packed, turning the once open mezzanine area of the marketplace into a sea of indistinguishable people. She’d started a little game of people watching as she’d been sitting and sipping her tea, and she’d spotted at least a dozen women who were dressed similarly to her, in nondescript loose-fitting, khaki-colored, long cotton gauze dresses and wearing similar wide-brimmed sun hats, a favorite style among the female tourists here. Normally she would not have liked the fact that another woman was dressed like her, let alone several other women, but today she had purposely chosen to blend in with the crowd. Hopefully, it would make it harder for Kirby and Hattie to find her when the time came.

And that time was very near now. The crowd was large and growing larger by the minute; Hattie was still preoccupied, as she continue to hold court among the vendors; and Kirby was casting more and more furtive glances in the direction of the flower vendor’s daughter. Nearly everything was in place. Now all she had to do was finish this glass of iced tea, her second very tall glass since sitting down. Then her need to ditch Kirby - ostensibly only briefly - would seem legitimate, even to the dedicated bodyguard. And best of all, the women’s facilities were within easy distance of the flower vendor’s daughter, which would likely lull Kirby into thinking he could talk with the object of his affections and still keep an eye peeled on the bathroom exit for her.

If he only knew… she thought to herself, smiling as she finished the last of her drink, then looked up to inform Kirby that she needed to use the facilities immediately.

It took him several minutes, but Jax pushed his way through the crush of the crowd toward the food court area where Brenda had been sitting, finally breaking through only to find her gone. “Chuck, where is she?!” he whispered, panicked that he’d come this far only to lose her once again.

“Relax, pal,” Chuck replied calmly. “She went into the women’s restroom near the center of the marketplace just a few minutes ago. I’m just a few feet away from the restroom exit, and her bodyguard is about fifty feet away from me, also facing the door, but talking with some girl selling flowers.”

“Okay, I see you,” Jax answered quietly. “I’ll stay on the other side of the door, that way one of us can easily pick her up when she comes back out.” He glanced over warily at the bodyguard, who was still with the girl selling flowers. Unfortunately, he still was keeping a close eye on the bathroom exit, as well. “Any ideas as to the best way to handle the big guy?” Jax whispered.

He heard Chuck sigh at that. “Short of dynamite, you mean?” he quipped, then he grew serious as he added: “Even with his obvious flirtations with that girl there, he still hasn’t taken his eyes off the bathroom door for more than a second or two at a time. He’s a dedicated professional, sticking to Brenda no matter what other distractions there are - Cordoba certainly is getting his money’s worth with him.”

“Do you think we could create a diversion that would pull him away from Brenda long enough for one of us to grab her and get her out of here?” Jax whispered, as he pretended to look at the T-shirts of the vendor beside him.

“You mean like yelling ‘Fire!’ and hoping he gets trampled in the onslaught?” Chuck chuckled. “I think there are laws against that sort of thing - at least in the States; not sure about here.”

“I was hoping to avoid a stampede,” Jax replied quietly, as he handed the vendor the shirt he’d been fingering, then pulled some bills out of his wallet and handed them to him as the man handed him a bag containing the shirt in return.

“Are you actually shopping over there?” Chuck asked, as he watched Jax put his wallet back in his pocket and stick the bag under his arm.

“I’m blending in, pal, acting like the tourist I’m supposed to be,” Jax replied, as he cast another furtive glance at the bathroom door as it opened and two giggling girls emerged, but no Brenda. “How long’s she been in there?” Jax asked, as he glanced over to see the bodyguard look at his watch, then back at the door.

“Going on ten minutes now,” Chuck replied. “Listen, I don’t know a lot about these things, but isn’t that kinda long even for a woman to be in the bathroom?”

“Yeah - even for Brenda,” Jax answered, watching as the bodyguard was talking animatedly to the flower girl, who nodded, then slowly made her way through the crowd toward the bathroom. “Looks like the big guy’s sending in the cavalry it check it out.”

“I see that,” Chuck replied, then he paused as he added: “I know you didn’t want to do this, but I think the gas is our best bet to get Brenda out of here safely. I think it may be the only way to separate the big guy from Brenda long enough for us to get her out of here. I’d like to drop the canister as soon as Brenda steps out of the bathroom.”

Jax let out a deep sigh, as he watched the bodyguard station himself outside the bathroom door as the girl stepped inside. He was about to tell Chuck he thought he was right when he realized he’d left his and Brenda’s masks back in the car! “I forgot the masks, Chuck!” he exclaimed, his voice a strangled whisper.

“No need to panic, Jax,” Chuck quietly reassured him. “I can continue to keep tabs on them until you get back with the masks and get into a close enough position to slip Brenda’s mask on her before I blow the canister… Just hurry!”

“I’m already on my way out,” Jax replied, as he quickly turned to leave. “Don’t start without me!”

Just a few more minutes, he told himself over and over again, as he made his way back through the crowd toward the back of the market and the alley where his car was parked.

She walked into the empty bathroom, checking under every stall door to make certain that she really was the only one in there for the moment. She needed as much privacy as possible to do what she needed to do now. She entered the handicap stall at the very back of the large restroom, closing and locking the door behind her, then hanging her tote onto the hook at the side of the stall. She quickly slipped off her hat and her shoes, then out of her dress and her bra, laying her hat and clothes on the toilet tank and out of the way for the moment.

She quickly reached inside her tote and pulled out 2 rolls of Ace wrap and began to wrap them around her chest, binding her breasts so tightly that it appeared that she had none. She then pulled out a pair of faded, baggy jeans and slipped them on, followed by a T-shirt that proclaimed that divers do it better in the Bahamas. She’d bought both of these items here at the marketplace weeks before, but Armand had asked her not to wear them when she was with him, saying they weren’t feminine enough for a woman as beautiful as she was. She slipped on her pair of running shoes and stifled a laugh as she looked down at herself. If only Armand could see how right he was about this outfit not being feminine! But she didn’t have time for reflection now, as she still had much more to do to make her transformation complete and dwindling time in which to do it.

Next, she pulled out the portable shaving mirror that she’d also “borrowed” from Armand and hung it over the hook that held the tote bag. Then she grabbed a ponytail holder from the pocket of her jeans and bent forward, sweeping all of her hair forward, then up into a ponytail. She glanced into the mirror and took a deep breath, dreading what she planned to do next, but knowing it was necessary in order to pull this whole thing off. She reached into the bag again, pulling out a pair of scissors, then closing her eyes, she reached around and cut her ponytail off in one steady cut, quickly dropping it and the scissors back inside her tote bag. She then opened her eyes, suppressing the gasp she felt inside her as she gazed into the mirror. Her beautiful hair was gone, but it was a small sacrifice to make if it meant she could finally escape Armand’s reach.

Taking another deep breath, she pulled out a small tube of hair gel and quickly poured a generous amount into her hands, then rubbed it through what was left of her hair, slicking it back, then combing it into place as best she could. She then pulled out a moist face cloth and quickly scrubbed her makeup off her face. With the sunglasses and the cap she’d brought she could easily pass for a teenage boy, she thought to herself. But then she caught sight of her ring…

She’d almost forgotten to remove it! It was definitely too pretty to be worn by a boy! She reached into another pocket of her jeans and pulled out a simple gold chain necklace, opening the clasp and slipping her ring through the chain, then fastening it around her neck and sliding it out of sight inside her T-shirt. Then she donned the last of her outfit - a nondescript gray hooded sweatshirt, the cap, and the wire rim sunglasses - and pulled one last item out of the tote bag: her backpack that she’d filled the night before with a couple of bottles of water, Armand’s money and gun, and now her croissants.

She slipped the backpack over her shoulder, then slipped her bra and the mirror back into the nearly empty tote bag. She grabbed the shoes she’d worn into the bathroom and set them in front of the toilet, facing forward, as if she were wearing them as she sat there. Then she took her dress and carefully placed it over the closed seat, draping it down so that it covered the stool itself, with only the toes of her shoes showing beneath it. Thinking that the dress was too flat to fool anyone, she grabbed her tote bag from off the hook and rolled it and put it on top of her shoes, then draped the long skirt of her dress over it. Finally satisfied that it could pass for legs - at least to someone looking in from below - she decided it was time to leave.

She hadn’t heard anyone else come inside the restroom in the few minutes she’d been there, but she couldn’t chance being seen in a woman’s restroom dressed as a boy, so she slowly opened the door of the stall to make certain that she was still alone. Thankfully, she was. She headed for the door, then realized that as packed as the marketplace was someone would undoubtedly notice a teenage “boy” emerging from the women’s restroom. What was she thinking?

She panicked then, as she looked around for another means of escape, finally spying the row of half-open windows on the wall above the sinks - very high on the wall above the sinks. She hated that, but she knew that she didn’t have a choice, so she hoisted herself up onto a sink, then stood to reach an open window. She could just barely reach it and the pull on her muscles was painful as she hauled herself up and into the open half of the window, glancing outside to see exactly where this led: the back of the marketplace. She paused briefly, her breath catching at the painful twitch of her strained muscles, but she knew she had to keep going. No one had come in thus far, but, given the crowd outside, her luck couldn’t last much longer, and sooner or later some one else would come in to use the facilities.

She realized it was sooner, as she heard the creak of the restroom door behind her, and she quickly jumped the rest of the way out of the window, landing with a thud on the dumpster below.

“Hmmph!” she grimaced at the sharp pain that shot through her right ankle as she landed. Oh, God, please don’t let it be broken, she prayed, as she quickly pulled up her pant leg to look at her ankle. It was purple and already beginning to swell, but she hoped she could still walk on it. She had to be able to walk on it, otherwise she was doomed. Because it wouldn’t be long before Kirby discovered she was missing and this would likely be one of the first places he’d look once he realized it was her only means of escape.

She glanced around the area, thankful that no one was around to hear her rather loud landing and even more thankful that it was only a few feet more to the ground. She knew this was risky, but she still had to do it, so she steeled herself against the pain as she slowly lowered herself to the ground, trying as best she could to shield her injured ankle from full impact as she reached the ground below, but it was still painful, and she quieted her urge to scream.

It hurt like hell, but if she took a pain pill, she’d at least be able to tolerate the pain enough to get away from here, if only by a block or two. She sat down on the ground behind the dumpster, making sure she was well hidden from anyone who might come into the area behind the market, then she opened her backpack to pull out a bottle of water and her pain pills. She had debated leaving the pills back on the island, but she knew that, despite the fact she no longer needed 5 or 6 pills a day, she still needed at least a couple a day. She’d taken one this morning when she’d first gotten up, then she’d slipped the bottle into her tote bag…

Oh, god! Her pills were still inside her tote bag, which was inside the handicap stall in the bathroom! How was she going to make it even a few steps now, let alone a few blocks? And she didn’t want to even think about what the next few days might be like, as her body was suddenly forced to go cold turkey without her pills…

She moved to put her bottle water back inside the open backpack when her hand slid across the gun. She pulled it out and looked at it, her hand easily wrapping around the grip of the handle, her index finger finding its way automatically to the trigger. She held the gun up and simply stared at it.

Escape… She had to escape…

One way or another she had to get away from Armand Cordoba…

One way or another…

You’re as good as dead anyway if Kirby finds you, and there’s no way he won’t find you, a voice inside her whispered.

Her hand shook as she closed her eyes and slowly raised the gun to her head.

There is no other way out… Do it… Do it… Do it… the voice in her head chanted.

But a stronger voice - a man’s voice, one that she didn’t recognize - was screaming for her to stop because it wasn’t hopeless and escape was possible if she just trusted her heart.

Her eyes flew open and she gasped, as she realized how close she had come to killing herself. She had fought her way out of a coma and endured months of painful physical therapy to live and walk again. She wasn’t about to throw that all away now. She couldn’t believe this was the end of hope. She wouldn’t let it be!

She quickly put the gun back into her backpack and zipped it shut, then peaked out from behind the dumpster to once again make sure she was alone. But didn’t see anyone, but she could hear voices now in the distance. Still, she knew she had to move from here or Kirby would find her for sure. She might not be ready to end her life just yet, but she also wasn’t ready to go back with Kirby to face Armand Cordoba again either. That left her only one option: get up and get moving.

She pulled herself to a standing position, steeling herself against the pain that followed. Once again slinging the backpack onto her back, she placed one hand against the side of the dumpster, then she hopped on her good leg around to the front of the dumpster to take a look around. She could now see the people she’d heard just a moment before, but they were a good distance away, with several cars between them.

Cars… She glanced around to see that there were cars everywhere. That was her way out - she’d simply steal a car to get away! That way she could rest her ankle - at least for the next hour or so, and certainly until she was far enough away that Kirby couldn’t find her. She had no idea if she knew how to drive a car before the accident because there had been no need for it afterward - Armand used a limo and driver all the time - but she supposed that if she did, that would all come back to her. Besides, she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

First, she needed to make it to a car…

Then hope that it was unlocked…

And the driver was stupid enough to leave the keys behind…

Her heart fell then, as she realized what a long shot that possibility was.

Don’t give up! It was that unfamiliar male voice again urging her on. Okay, she’d at least give this a try.

She looked to her right to see there was a car parked just a few feet on the other side of the dumpster. Once again using the dumpster for support, she hopped as quickly as she could to the car, but by then she could hear more voices coming from the marketplace and see several people heading out to their cars. She reached the back of the car, then quickly ducked down beside the left rear passenger door. She held her breath as she reached for the handle, nearly letting out a shout of joy when the door opened.

The car’s not locked! Please let the keys be in it somewhere, too, she silently prayed. She started to stand to hop her way around to the driver’s seat on the other side of the car, when she saw someone heading in her direction. She quickly re-opened the back door and slid inside the car, closing the door as quietly as she could behind her, then scrunching down as small as she could on the floor.

She held her breath, hoping they would pass by quickly, but her heart nearly stopped when she heard the driver’s door open and she felt the car shift slightly as a man settled into the driver’s seat.

Don’t panic, she told herself. This can work to my advantage, she thought, as she slowly unzipped her bag and slipped her hand inside, pulling out the gun once again.

Jax ran the last several steps to the car, intent on simply reaching in and grabbing the masks, which were hidden under the driver’s seat of the car, then hiding them in the bag holding the shirt he’d just bought and nonchalantly returning to the marketplace and Brenda. But as he neared the car, he saw a space open up right beside the entrance and so he decided to get in and move the car there first. It would be a lot shorter distance to run with Brenda when the time came.

He opened the driver’s door and slid inside, bending forward to retrieve the masks from under the seat first thing so he wouldn’t forget them this time, but as he sat upright again, he felt the pinch of cold steel pressed against the back of his neck. Dammit! This cannot be happening! he thought. Had Cordoba’s man caught onto them after all?

“Don’t move and don’t turn around!” a raspy voice growled. “Do as I say and you won’t get hurt.”

That didn’t sound like something one of Cordoba’s men would say to him. This had to be something else. A robbery perhaps? “What do you want?” he asked, then, without waiting for an answer, he added: “Listen, if it’s money you want, I’ll give you everything I’ve got, just let me go. I have something important I have to do!” He reached for his wallet, but he stopped when he heard the safety click off the gun. Whoever this was, they were serious about getting what they wanted.

“I told you not to move!” the voice growled again. Brenda hated doing this, but it was the only way out of this place at this point.

“Okay, don’t shoot - I’m not moving!” Jax shouted, which brought a panicked response from Chuck in his ear.

“What’s going on, Jax?” Chuck asked quietly, as he’d heard someone threaten Jax just seconds before.

“I want you to start the car and leave this area,” the voice instructed. “Drive carefully and don’t draw attention to yourself or the car in any way or I’ll be forced to shoot you.”

Please don’t make me shoot you! Brenda thought. I don’t want to hurt anyone; I just want to get away from here.

Forced to shoot me? Jax wondered. That meant whoever this person was, they weren’t normally violent by nature. That was good to know… “Okay, I’m starting the car now,” Jax replied, as he stuck the key into the ignition and turned on the motor.

“Good! Now, pull out of here and head out onto the street then out of the city. I’ll tell you where to stop,” Brenda demanded, the depth and intensity of her assumed voice wavering with each syllable. Her throat was starting to hurt. She couldn’t keep this voice up much longer. Why couldn’t he just cooperate with her?

It sounded to Jax like this person was trying to sound older and tougher than he was, and it was a strain on his vocal chords.

“Listen, I’ll let you have the car - my money, too - but I really need to get back inside to meet someone. I promise I won’t even report the car stolen until tomorrow. That will give you plenty of time to get away.” Jax offered, as he stopped the car at the new parking spot, sure that this person would take him up on his offer.

“I said drive!” she repeated, giving Jax’s hair a jerk to make her point.

“Jax, do what they say,” Chuck whispered. “Brenda hasn’t come out of the bathroom yet, and when she does, I can handle grabbing her. She’ll just have to be unconscious like everyone else for awhile. Once I have Brenda safely away from the marketplace and I’m sure we weren’t followed, I’ll call the police and tell them what happened. I can get Brenda safely away from here, Jax; you just make sure that you don’t do anything to jeopardize your own safety!”

“Okay, I’m driving!” Jax said, and he felt the grip on his hair loosen. “You know it’s broad daylight outside, and anyone we pass by will be able to look inside the car to see you with that gun pressed against my neck… Why don’t you sit back and act like a normal passenger?” he suggested.

The guy was making sense, Brenda thought. Besides, sitting like this was making the pain in her ankle worse. She needed to lean back and stretch her leg out and get it elevated. “Okay,” she growled, “but I still have the gun pressed against the back of your seat, so don’t try anything.”

“I won’t,” Jax promised, as he snuck a glance into the rearview mirror to see his abductor lean back in the seat. He just got a brief glimpse, as he didn’t want them to know that he’d caught sight of them, but it looked like a kid - a boy, he thought, and not more than fourteen or fifteen-years-old, from the size of him. He didn’t get a good look at the face, which was mostly hidden by the cap pulled way down and the sunglasses, but he thought he saw him wince as he’d shifted himself in the backseat. Is the kid hurt? he wondered, as he pulled out onto the main street, heading toward the city limits. If that’s the case, he could probably easily overpower the kid when they stopped wherever it was the kid wanted him to stop.

Brenda felt herself feeling increasingly woozy, and she could feel beads of perspiration popping up on her forehead. She wiped at it with the back of her free hand, then unzipped her sweatshirt, willing herself not to get sick, as she shoved the gun hard into the back of the driver’s seat. “Keep your eyes focused on the road,” she warned, in her pained state forgetting to disguise her voice this time.

Jax’s ears perked up at the sound of her voice. That wasn’t a male voice - not even a boy’s voice sounded like that. But then Chuck interrupted his train of thought: “Jax, something funny’s going on here… I know you can’t answer, so I’ll fill you in on what’s been going on… That girl that the bodyguard sent into the bathroom came out almost immediately and said something to the man that seemed to satisfy him, but after another five minutes or so went by and there was still no sign of Brenda, he sent the girl back inside and this time when she came out and spoke to him, the man went crazy and went storming into the bathroom, his weapon drawn, sending women screaming out of there like crazy. But - and this is the really strange part, Jax - Brenda never came back out of that bathroom.”

Was there a back entrance that they hadn’t known about? Jax wondered. Impossible, otherwise, the bodyguard wouldn’t have let Brenda go inside. Then where did she go and what happened to her?

As if reading Jax’s mind, Chuck continued: “Anyway, I went inside and checked the place out for myself and the only way she could have gotten out of there - or someone else gotten in to take her out of there - is through a set of windows on the wall above the sinks and they’re pretty high up. And then it’s a good jump from there to the ground, with only a dumpster to break the fall.”

The hair stood up on the back of Jax’s neck at that. Only a dumpster to break the fall… His car had been parked beside the only dumpster in the alley… This kid, though dressed like a boy, sounded more like a girl…

Could it be…?

No, he was grasping at straws here, trying to make connections that weren’t there. He hadn’t seen much of this kid, but he - or she - had short hair that was slicked back. Brenda’s hair was long - he’d seen that not more than twenty minutes ago - and even in a ponytail, she could never have hidden it under a hat like this kid was wearing… And the chest… The kid’s chest was flat as a pancake; Brenda was as voluptuous as they come.

And then there was the gun… Brenda might have a gun if she was trying to escape Cordoba, but she would never draw it on him, and she’d certainly never threaten to kill him with it. And wouldn’t she have recognized him? Even though he looked to the average person nothing like the well-groomed, well-dressed Jasper Jacks the public was used to seeing, she wasn’t the average person - she was his wife and she’d seen him looking far worse than this.

No, this kid couldn’t be Brenda. This was all just some crazy coincidence. But something inside him wouldn’t let go…

He glanced into the rearview mirror again and he saw her slump against the door behind him and remain there, unmoving. He slowed the car considerably, half expecting her to threaten him again with the gun, but she gave no response, so he pulled off the road and stopped the car.

Still no movement from her.

He slid out of the car and put his hand on the handle of the passenger door, hesitating, afraid to hope that some twist of fate had somehow brought them together again. He felt his heart pounding wildly out-of-control as he slowly opened the door and she fell backwards into his arms, her hat and glasses tumbling to the ground beside him.

His heart caught in his throat. Oh, God - It’s her… It’s really her…

He could hear Chuck talking to him again in his earpiece, and he knew he had to tell Chuck what had happened. He needed to tell Chuck that everything was okay. That he was safe and that Brenda was safe with him, but "Brenda." was all he managed to say before he melted to the ground, holding her tightly in his arms and sobbing uncontrollably.

After all this time, after all the pain, she was finally in his arms again and nothing and no one would ever tear them apart again…