Sacramento, California

  Drake waved at Elise from the front stoop, leaning casually against the roman pillars as she backed her BMW from the drive, smiling happily.
 As she disappeared down the elegant tree-lined street, he spun and hurried back into the house, his focus clear; he needed to get into Vance’s locked office.
 It had been weeks since she had left him alone in the house and Drake had to wonder if it was by design or simply that she was so smitten, she wanted to stay close to him.
 In either case, he was beginning to lose his sense of humor, wanting desperately to get inside the library and see what he could find.
 Elise had kept the study like a shrine to her dead husband, the room opened only for cleaning once a week.
 He had broached the idea of entering numerous times with his lover but she had shot him down flat.
 There had been a tactical team who had combed through the files after his untimely death, two decades earlier but nothing of substance had been discovered; or so he had been told.
 But Drake had not gone through Vance’s paperwork personally, something he had been driven to do for twenty years. He knew the answer to all of the boys’ whereabouts was in his former confidant’s office; he also knew that he might be the only person who would recognize that information - he only needed the opportunity to look.
   Elise had been like a burr, clinging to him unnecessarily since the day they had made love on the table.
 She spoke of their future together as if they had been separated by time alone and Drake didn’t have the heart to tell her that when he found what he came for, he would be gone once more.
 There was no doubt in his mind that the theatrics accompanying such an announcement would be legendary. He did feel a slight bit of remorse at the prospect of his treatment of her, but in the end, it didn’t matter. The only thing that was important, was finding the information that would lead him to his sons. And there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to make that happen. Not anything.
 He knew the longer he stayed unprotected in Sacramento, the greater his chances of being captured or killed by Oculus grew.
 Once he got the information he needed, he would quietly slip out of Elise Berkley’s life - as silently as he had slipped back in.
 “Can I help you with something, Mr. Conway?”
 Tamara’s voice startled him as he tried the handle to the main floor study.
 Dammit!
 He had forgotten about the house staff.
 “Yes,” he replied casually. “I need the key to this room. Any idea where I can find it?”
 Tamara’s dark eyes turned hard and Drake realized she was going to report back to Elise. He was torn over what to do but forced a smile on his face.
 “Mrs. Berkley and I are thinking about turning it into a games room,” he lied and the brunette housekeeper scowled.
 “I find that hard to believe,” she said coldly. “Mrs. Berkley has always maintained that this room is to be kept in memorandum of Mr. Berkley.”
  Drake idly wondered if he was going to have to kill her. He hoped not. There was nothing he disliked more than leaving behind a trail of bodies.
 “You can believe whatever you want, Tamara, but keep in mind that soon I will be the one paying your wages,” he snarled. “Mr. Berkley has been gone a very long time. I think it is healthy for Mrs. Berkley to move on, don’t you agree?”
  Her demeanor changed instantly and she lowered her gaze.
 “I’ll see about finding that key, Mr. Conway,” she muttered. She would have to be blind not to notice the difference in Elise’s personality since Drake had arrived. Tamara had no reason to disbelieve that Drake Conway was about to become a regular fixture in the residence. Elise believed it too.
 Drake waited impatiently until Tamara returned, pulling out a set of keys from her apron. She opened the door and stepped back, allowing him to enter.
 “In the future, there are spare keys in the pantry,” she muttered and Drake knew that it pained her to tell him that.
 “Thank you, Tamara,” he said, closing the door in the house servant’s face.
   He didn’t need any distractions or witnesses to what he was about to do.
 Immediately, he hurried toward the desk, sitting in the swivel chair and pulling open drawers to analyze the contents.
 With each minute, he found himself growing increasingly frustrated.
 It seemed that the team who had tended to Vance Berkley’s files had been truthful and thorough; there was nothing in the desk which seemed to suggest the whereabouts of his sons.
 Dejectedly, Drake sat back, staring at the desk calendar from 1995.
 A pang of nostalgia surged through him as he recognized Vance’s chicken scratch hand writing, his hands tracing over the page with affection.
 The man had been like his right arm. Getting by without him had been unbearable for the first few years, especially in the wake of losing his entire family.
 As his fingers trailed off the page, he noticed a scar in the wood, just beneath the calendar page.
 His brow furrowing, he stared at the bizarre scratch, his sixth sense screeching.
 Instantly, he pushed the agenda aside, baring the top of the table.
 Something was etched there and Drake stared at it for a long moment, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. 
 Four seemingly random ideas floated before his eyes:
 Q 47.606209/-122.332071
 S 40.811550/-73.946477
 V 39.29038/
 Before he could finish reading the last two in entirety, his concentration was shattered as the door to the study flew open and Elise glowered at him.
 “You son of a bitch!” she screamed, rushing toward him. “I knew it! I knew you were up to something from the minute you landed on my doorstep! Get out of here! Get out of this room right now!”
 Drake rose slowly, pointing at the figures on the desk.
   “These are – “
 “Didn’t you hear me? GET OUT!”
 The fury in Elise’s blue eyes was unlike anything Drake had ever seen in the woman and for a moment, he was afraid of her.
 “Wait!” he begged. “Let me write this down!”
 She slapped him hard across the face.
 “Get out! Get out! Get out of my house! You used me!”
 He tried to shake his head in denial but another smack ensued and he knew he had to obey her request before she lost complete control.
 “You never thought about me!” she screeched, tears pouring down her face. “You only came here to use me again! And I fell for it!”
 “Elise please,” he begged. “I love – “
 “If you say it, I swear to God I will get my gun and shoot you dead. If I ever see your face again, I will kill you.”
 Swallowing, Drake spun and hurried from the study, Elise’s muffled sobs following him into the grand foyer.
 When she calms down, I will talk to her, he told himself, stepping out of the house into the hot summer air.
 But he knew that there was no chance that Elise would forgive him, not that time. He had crossed the line and he was aware of it, but he could not bring himself to regret what he had done.
 Sighing, he reached into his pants for his cell phone to call for his detail.
 I need those numbers, he thought, gritting his teeth. I need them all.
 He wandered down the street to wait for Goetz to arrive, his mind racing. He understood the first one. 
 Q must be Ryder. The other two are Xavier and the twins.
 The non-descript black SUV appeared, pulling up stealthily along side of him and Drake slipped in silently, barely acknowledging the driver who nodded at him.
 “Sir.”
 He closed his eyes and conjured the image of Vance’s workspace back to his mind. His identic memory recounted the numbers he had been permitted to read before Elise had stormed the office.
 Q 47.606209/-122.332071, , V 39.29038/
 He stifled a cry of anxiety, knowing that he only had half the information which Vance had left behind.
 Half is better than nothing, he reasoned.
 “Give me your tablet,” he ordered Special Agent Goetz and the man obliged without question.
 “Did you find something?” Goetz asked curiously.
 “Just be quiet and drive,” he snapped.
 Unlocking the device, Drake got to work.
 Vance had left behind coordinates and a clue as to the names of the families who had been enlisted in the care of the boys.
 Ryder was the only one of his boys that he had found, so he didn’t really need the information for him. And he did not have full coordinates for the twins, but he finally had a lead on his second son!
 It was a start and as he entered the numbers he had recalled, he exhaled slowly as the satellite closed in on Harlem, New York.
 He was that much closer to finding Xavier.
 Hang on, son. I’m coming.