Bayley watched as the truck in front of her turned off the highway, making its way along several winding turns, eventually pulling into a long, narrow road. At the end, a large, metal building appeared. She sat in indecision for a moment before driving closer. Not seeing the truck, she turned her headlights off, glad for the moonlight. Calling her location in to Jack, she pulled to the side of the road, parking Prissy in a location she hoped would give her vision and secrecy. Her stomach rolled at the uncertainty of what was happening, trying to keep Jack’s warning in her mind. He said Nick’s coming. Straining her eyes toward what appeared to be an old warehouse, she saw a small, lighted window on the side. With her hand on the door handle, she fought an inner battle. Stay with Prissy.

The area around the building was wooded and she realized they had not passed any houses for several miles. She had followed the truck west for at least twenty miles before they turned off the highway, so she was glad, and also really amazed, that Luke would be able to figure out where they were from her descriptions alone.

Slipping her hand into her purse, she pulled out her gun, the familiar weight a slight comfort, and exited her vehicle as quietly as possible. What am I doing? “If you place your head in a lion’s mouth, then you cannot complain one day if he happens to bite it off”. Ignoring Agatha Christie’s voice in her head, she stealthily made her way to the nearest window of the building, partially hidden by trees. Peeking inside, she could see the laundry truck parked alongside a dark SUV, its windows just as dark. Agnes stepped around the side from the back and approached a man. Unable to see his face, Bayley leaned closer.

“I got them here but don’t know if I was followed,” Agnes said.

Bayley watched as the man nodded, his hand rubbing over his military short, grey hair. Something about him seemed familiar, but she could not place where she had seen him.

“I’ve got responders on their way but a wreck on the highway has shut it down and they can’t get here right now.” The man jerked his head toward the truck. “Can he do the job for now?”

Unable to hear Agnes’ response, Bayley tried to see into the truck. Ducking down, she slipped around the corner, peeking into another window, this one facing the back of the truck. Eyes wide, she gawked at the sight before her. The back of the truck was open, with what appeared to be bodies lying inside, an older man standing at the entrance.

Whirling around, her back plastered to the building’s wall, Bayley clapped her hand over her mouth, keeping the scream from bursting forth as her chest rose and fell with each forced breath. Her mind racing, she pulled her phone from her pocket. “Jack,” she gushed in a hoarse whisper, “I know I shouldn’t have, but I peeked in a window. There are bodies in the back of the truck. I don’t—”

“Bayley, we’re on our way. Get out of there,” he ordered.

She glanced back in, seeing the older man in the truck bending over a woman’s body. Oh, hell no! Disconnecting, she dropped her phone into her pocket as she rushed to the front of the building.

Nick, in the van driven by Marc, sat in the back with Blaise. Chad sat in the front passenger side, communicating with Luke. “Turn here,” Chad ordered Marc, who deftly maneuvered the van off the highway.

A moment later, Jack came over their speakers, his words sending a chill down Nick’s spine. “Bayley called. Seems the truck has bodies inside. She was cut off, but Luke’s got your ETA as twenty minutes. Can you make that shorter?”

“Got a fuckin’ accident on the highway that’s got all the lanes closed. Just got off and we’re taking backroads.”

“Get there but get there safely,” Jack ordered.

“Done,” Marc bit out, stepping on the accelerator.

Nick and Blaise shared a heart-ripping look before both gazed out of their respective windows, keeping their fears to themselves.

The side door to the warehouse opened and Bayley rushed inside, gun in hand and pointed at the inhabitants.

“Get away from her!” she shouted as she rounded the back of the truck toward Agnes and the suited man. She watched as Agnes’ face registered surprise, then anger, as she came closer. The man standing next to Agnes, his familiar face also hardened as his eyes jumped to her.

“Shit,” Agnes said, her mouth in a tight line.

“What the hell?” the rumpled man asked, his hand going to his waist.

Bayley viewed a weapon holster on his belt and, next to it, a badge. Badge. Gaze lifting to his face, she remembered where she had seen him. In a picture with Nick on the wall of the FBI building. “Harlan?” she breathed.

Harlan’s eyes shifted to hers, surprise in his as he heard his name from her lips.

“Get him away from that woman,” Bayley ordered, jerking her head toward the truck and the man still there.

“You don’t understand,” Agnes said. “He’s a doctor. He’s helping!”

“H…helping? You’ve got a truck full of bodies and he’s helping?” Bayley’s voice rose with each word. Jerking a glance to the side, she saw the man identified as a “doctor” staring at her, wide eyed, his hands raised in the air.

“We can explain,” Harlan said.

“Keep your hands where I can see them!” Bayley shouted again. With one hand holding her weapon steady, she reached in her pocket for her phone, but her fingers found nothing. Grimacing, she realized it must have fallen out. “Nick is on his way. Remember Nick? Your supposed friend?”

Harlan shook his head as he took a step forward. “You’ve got this wrong, Ms. Hanssen. You’ve got to let the doctor do his work.”

A moan came from the back of the truck and Bayley watched, heart pounding, as a woman staggered from the back, leaning on the arm of the doctor. Sucking in a gasp, she cried out, “Oh, my God! Amy Willis!”

The doctor stepped forward, letting the still-drugged woman slide to the ground, supported by the side of the truck. “Miss, I am a doctor. I’ve got to give the antidote to these women.”

“Antidote?” Bayley asked, her mind racing with a tumble of thoughts, nothing making sense.

“The girls aren’t dead,” Agnes said, taking a step forward, but halting as Bayley swung her weapon back toward her. “They’re drugged. It slowed their respiration down just long enough for me to get them into the truck.”

“Why?”

“I had to get them out. Out of that place,” Agnes cried, her face tortured.

“She’s working with me,” Harlan said. “I was supposed to bring some medical personnel with me, but they’re caught on the highway at the accident. That’s why we need the doctor to work on the women.”

Fighting to steady her breathing, Bayley glanced down at Amy Willis who, still dazed, appeared to be waking from a long sleep. Looking up at the doctor, Bayley gave a curt nod. “Fine, but I’ll be watching,” she warned.

Looking toward Agnes, she said, “Why were you in my store arguing with Daphne’s ex-boyfriend?”

“That was my brother.”

“Your brother?”

“Lazlo.”

Gasping, Bayley looked on in disbelief. “Lazlo…your brother?”

“Yes, well, don’t hold my family against me,” Agnes said. “They are why I am risking my life to save these girls.”

Blinking slowly as understanding dawned, Bayley shifted her attention back to Harlan. “Why didn’t you say anything? You could have told Nick.”

“That’s on me,” Agnes said. “I worked out the deal. I’d get the girls out and to him and then I’d disappear. I’d come back to testify against my family but, other than that, I’m gone.”

Staring at her a long time, Bayley saw fear in the other woman’s eyes. Fear…and honesty. Shooting them all a look, she said, “Nick’ll be here in a few minutes—”

“But that will be too late, won’t it?”

The inhabitants of the warehouse stared as the deep voice came from around the truck, a gun pointed at them. The man turned to Bayley and ordered, “Drop it.”

Thinking fast and furious, still, no plan came to mind and, as the man with the gun stepped toward her, he shifted his aim to Amy, still sitting propped up by the truck. With no good choice available, she placed her gun on the ground and pushed it towards him, watching as he bent slowly, picking it up before sliding it into his pocket.

Agnes looked behind her at the man with the gun and Bayley saw recognition flare in her eyes. “What are you doing here?” Agnes asked.

Chuckling, the man said, “Grigory told me to follow you. Guess he figured you were working on a deal all by yourself.” Looking at Harlan, he asked, “Who’s he?” As the man stepped to Bayley’s right, the gun still facing her, his gaze dropped to Harlan’s waist. “Fuckin’ hell! You’re talking to a Fed?”

In a flash, he moved his arm and fired, hitting Harlan in the arm. Pushing Agnes out of the way before he fell, Harlan shouted for her to get out. Twisting, Bayley shoved the man to the side, causing him to trip over a box on the floor. Agnes rushed forward, grabbing Bayley by the arm, pulling her behind the truck.

In a split-second decision, they made a run for the open door, hearing gunfire as they ran outside, ducking as they went. “Where’s your car?” Agnes whispered.

“We can’t leave them!” Bayley cried, pressing her back against the building.

Agnes whirled around, getting directly in front of Bayley. “He wants me! He needs me!” she said, pulling on Bayley’s arm. “He follows orders and his orders are to get me. I’m the one that can take my family down.”

Nodding, Bayley ran toward the woods, followed closely by Agnes. Both women jumped into the car as Bayley fished for her keys. Starting Prissy, she had just touched the accelerator as a bullet hit the back window.

“Shit!” both women screamed at the same time.

Hitting the gas, Bayley roared away, shooting down the gravel road past the warehouse, cursing that the gunman’s vehicle blocked the way out. “I don’t know where this road leads!” she yelled.

“Me either,” Agnes said, still ducking in case more gunfire came at them. “But we’ve got to get out of here to get help.”