29

By degrees, Yelina's mind regained consciousness, but it seemed as though her body were still asleep. She couldn't move nothing except her eyes, but she could feel everything . . .

She lay on a dark blue carpeted surface- what from the sound and feel of motion she could tell was the floor of a van. Judging by the speed they were travelling, and by the smoothness of the road, she reasoned that they were on the highway. She shifted her gaze, looking towards the front of the vehicle, and saw that the sunshine was coming from the southeast. That meant they were travelling generally north-

Boom-Boom Kitty! He was still in her jacket, curled up in a ball against her chest. He was very still. It occurred to her, then, that like herself, he was awake, aware of what was going on around him.

Yelina lay with her feet toward the rear of the vehicle. In front of her lay the woman she had been talking to. Her wrists were bound before her with some sort of white plastic tie, like the type used to close garbage bags. From the feel of her own wrists, Yelina could feel that she was likewise bound.

Even as the little blonde girl looked at her, the woman's eyes opened. They were glassy, as though her consciousness had not yet fully surfaced. And yet . . . and yet the eyes were looking straight at her! They blinked once, slowly . . . then again. Feeling a surge of excitement, Yelina responded in kind. The eyes remain fixed on her, steady.

In the front of the minivan were two men dressed in black snowsuits, both of them wearing dark sunglasses. They occupied the driver's and passenger's seats like reflections of each other. Neither uttered a word.

Yelina shifted her focus and began concentrating on her breathing. She took in deep breaths, as deep as she could hold, then expelled them until there was no air left in her lungs. And then she breathed in deep again . . . and out again . . . raising the level of oxygen in her blood in order to shake off the effects of the powerful soporific she'd been injected with. This made her feel light-headed, but she could feel control seeping back into her leaden limbs. The woman's eyes widened. After a few moments, she began matching Yelina's breathing, breathing in deeply through her nose, out through her mouth . . .

Yelina wished they could speak to each other . . . to . . . to Arley! That was the name the woman had given her. Her name was Arley Tattersall.

Abruptly, Yelina heard the pitch of the engine drop, felt the pull of gravity as the vehicle braked, turned, accelerated once more, but only slightly. They were on an unpaved surface now, probably a grid-road. With her ear to the floor, Yelina could hear gravel whacking and rattling against the bottom of the vehicle, the scrunch of the tires.

The sun was now just to the right, to the southeast, Yelina noted, so they were now travelling generally east.

A radio cracked. "Unit Two, over?"

The man sitting in the passenger seat reached forward, pulled a microphone from its clip and keyed it. 'Unit Two.'

"Unit Two, what is your ETA?"

'We're just ten or fifteen minutes out.'

"How long for units One and Three?"

The man paused. 'They should be right behind us.'

"Is your subject in custody?"

Again, a slight hesitation. 'We have two subjects.'

This was met with a prolonged pause. "Say again? You have both subjects?"

'No,' the man replied carefully, 'we have one subject, and one of Sutter's people.'

The radio went dead for several long, tense moments. And then, "Understood. You know what to do."

The man in black went very still, and wiped sweat from his upper lip. 'Roger that.' He hung the microphone back on its clip.

Yelina caught her breath at that. Something was wrong! Something was very wrong! And it was about to happen! She fought to move . . . and this time her muscles twitched! She was beginning to be able to move again. But would she recover enough to try to do something about the terrible thing she knew was soon to happen?