Nine o'clock, local time, with hours to go before the moon would rise--time for the mercenary to go. As that thought hit, he paused, and chuckled. He was certainly thinking of himself as a mercenary--he had a mission to accomplish, doing whatever it took, with only his conscience and self-defined rules to guide him; but, a mercenary, by definition, works only for money, any feelings of righteousness secondary to the purpose.

No one had hired him; he was working to protect an old friend's honor and to rescue that friend's daughter, held as hostage to that honor. If he wasn't acting as a mercenary, and he certainly wasn't acting as a cop, what designation could he use? He shrugged off the train of thought. He knew he was doing what any friend, with his particular set of talents and skills, would do. Titles didn't matter.

Armed with his Desert Eagle, various hidden knives, a compass, and a flashlight, Kermit was ready.

While Matthew kept Martin busy upstairs in the house and Kwai Chang Caine worked with their patient, Angeliquè took him through the cave to a different exit. This one would lead him to a convenient abandoned mine a mile from the center of the village and only a quarter-mile from his destination. According to Kwai Chang Caine, Kelly was being held in an outbuilding on the estate of a local manor house owned by an older couple conveniently visiting relatives in the States. Griffin had stopped asking Caine where he got his information.

The exit was open. Griffin had taken advantage of his silent escort to shift his focus from house guest to sneak thief; to 'walk the walk,' he needed to 'think the thought.' Now he muttered a quick "Thanks, Doc" to his escort and was turning to pass through when Angeliquè clasped his arm. Not wishing to appear rude to the woman who had saved his friend, Kermit merely turned a blank face to her--no threats, no surgical removal of her hand, merely passivity.

She was clearly taken aback at his reaction, she rushed through her little speech: "You are both a brave and a foolish man; but I wish you much luck. Take this token with you--Matthew made it for me and it has brought me much luck. Return it when you come back." She pressed the tiny object into his hand, gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and, turning, strode quickly back to Kwai Chang and the patient. Kermit did not look at the bauble, merely placed it into a pocket and moved rapidly through the gateway into the darkness.

The tunnel connecting the cave with the mine was long and winding, gradually climbing to a point on a hill overlooking the manor. Griffin moved slowly from the intense darkness of the tunnel through the short mine area to its starlit adit. According to Matthew, the wishful souls who had dug here for uranium, some ten years ago, had been cured after digging in only thirty feet. Those poor people had found no more radioactive ore than the few nuggets salted by unknown jokers. That delving stopped a foot or so shy of the passage to the large cave that extended under the clinic. Children from the manor, playing in the tempting artificial cave, had completed the link with the passageway.

There was space at the entrance for Griffin to stand and scan the small dale before him without being observed from below. He could make out the buildings of the manor holding and just barely discern the fields of grapevines. With no moon, the starlight was insufficient to enable Kermit to see any details of the panorama or of the terrain below the mine. Matthew had warned him that the ground on either side of the narrow path to the base had not been cleared. With Kermit's limited visibility, the hillside landscape looked like a solid wall. "How was I supposed to know I'd need the nightglasses." he muttered softly. "At least I'm not on a tight schedule."

Essentially blind, he started down the hill, moving from tree to tree, using the trunks as supports while he found safe footing for the next step. Even with the tight focus beam of his flashlight, which would prevent it from being seen from a distance, he was nervous about using it. One piece of litter at the wrong angle would show his location. Besides, the beam was too narrow to be practical on this hill.

For all his care in placing his feet as he descended the moderately steep hill, he still tripped twice. The second misstep caused him to tumble for several seconds, sideswiping him against several trunks and through too many bushes before landing across a large oak square in his path.

Catching his breath and running a status check on his body took several minutes; determining that the watchdogs were not about to descend on him took several more. As he lay there, he thought, What demons have I angered this time? I can't believe no one heard that fall. Finally, he picked himself up and continued, more carefully, toward the base of the hill.

Several times during the long descent, his sharp ears picked up movement in the brush around him. In each instance, the rustle was shortly followed by a small squeak and a quiet slurp. He paused momentarily, verifying he was not on the menu, and then moved on. More than once it occurred to him that Master Kwai Chang Caine had played a fast one on him. There must be a shorter way down. There must be!

***

Kelly Blaisdell shivered again, in the August heat, and again worked her body into the pile of hay, trying to get comfortable. Darkness had fallen, the temperature hadn't, but the heat was not enough to steam the fear from her bones. It won't be long. Don't be scared, little girl. They'll bring the disk, and then you can go. Sure. And I believed every one of them. Why didn't I just stay in school? Damn the whole lot of them. I hope their teeth rot and their eyes fall out. She kept her muttering, more angry than fearful, in her mind, lest she attract her captor's attention. I hope I get a chance to use that surprise Doctor Angeliquè loaned me from her garden tools.

They were in a barn, similar to those at Kelly's old riding school, but with only two stalls. Still, there was hay, useful for more than feeding animals, and a large open area used as a control center by the leader of this group and the five men she had counted so far.

Sid Harrison was studying a monitor, chuckling with glee at whatever the display told him. Finally, he turned to her to gloat. "Ha! As soon as I knew Griffin was here, I just knew he'd try to rescue you before my deadline. I'd let you watch this, but I'd rather you stayed put until I'm ready to use you. He'll see you soon enough. But this is so funny! He thinks he's sneaking up on us!" Harrison laughed evilly. "He doesn't know about the thermal sensors I set up around the perimeter! The computer warned me as soon as they picked up his body heat. Not sure how he appeared at the middle of the hill, but it has been amusing to watch that man tumbling down."

He laughed again and Kelly called out, "Uncle Kermit's coming? He's not hurt, is he? Leave him alone!"

Harrison stalked to within ten feet of her. 'If you don't shut up, girlie, I'll tape your mouth again. Remember, you promised to be quiet. Besides, I'm not going to hurt him too much, yet --he's one more hostage for that disk your friend Matthew is going to deliver."

"I don't care about your old disk. But if Uncle Kermit is trying to rescue me, then it must be important. And if it's that important, they won't trade it for me. So you might as well just let me go now, and leave Uncle Kermit out of it." He wanted a little girl, he is getting a little girl. Her words and tone were brave, but she did remember to lower her voice to just above a whisper.

"You're awfully dumb for a Blaisdell kid." Harrison just shook his head and snorted. Then he went back to the monitor. "Okay, men, he's at the base of the hill. Get out there and make like trees. And don't you mess up. He's a dangerous man and don't you forget it!"

Some ten minutes later, Kelly heard a loud scuffle outside the barn. The loud shouts were followed by cursing, then silence. She struggled against the hay and ropes and managed to maneuver herself so she could see two men carry her would-be rescuer into the building.

Griffin was dumped unceremoniously on the floor, his hands already tied behind his back. She was not surprised to see him wearing black pants and jacket; apparently even he did not consider white shirt and tie to be appropriate for a rescue mission.

He was still squirming, trying to stand, when a third man walked over, grabbed his legs from behind, and tied them also. Two of the men grabbed him and stood him on his feet. They then proceeded to methodically search him. After removing his weapons, they placed the gun and knives on the table by the monitor.

Griffin spoke first. "Well, Harrison, it has certainly not been long enough." Before the other responded, he spoke in Kelly's direction: "Are you okay, Ms Blaisdell?"

When she responded affirmatively, if shakily, he looked around and spotted the monitor.

As he opened his mouth to comment about Harrison's equipment, he doubled over in pain a sudden punch to his midsection. A second punch knocked him back to the floor as he attempted to curl his head to his knees. Before his head made contact with the wooden surface, two of the three thugs pulled him up by his upper arms.

Under Harrison's orders, they dragged him toward the rear of the barn. Within a few minutes, his arms were tied in front of him, instead of in back, and the rope tying his feet had been attached to the bottom of the gatepost of the stall holding Kelly. The long rope tying his hands was thrown over the rafter closest to the stall, and Griffin was raised with his feet two feet off the floor. There was some slack in the bottom rope, but not enough for him to kick out at his captors. Then the men moved back to another table set up for them close to the front door of the barn where they could watch their prisoner and the surrounding area at the same time.

With great difficulty, Kelly kept her emotions to herself. Harrison just might be serious about reapplying the uncomfortable gag. His stated purpose in removing it was to reassure her that the disk was all he was interested in. She suspected he was disappointed that she had only begged for a few moments to be released. She had convinced him she was a scared little girl, but she did not intend to act like the stupid cows in her classes.

Now, besides being frightened for herself, she was angry, sore, hungry, and tired, and she was also concerned about Kermit. She hadn't expected him to try to rescue her; and, once Harrison told her Kermit was approaching, she hadn't thought he would be captured during the attempt. Now he had been beaten and strung up like an animal to be drawn; his face was turning colors from the blows he must have received outside and his hands were turning white from the ropes. She had been promised release at the end of this; she began to worry about the form that release would take.

Harrison was pleased with himself. "Now I have two hostages. That disk will be mine long before morning. Your clumsy attempt, Griffin, allows me to move up the deadline. I'll be glad to leave this sorry excuse for a village and get back to civilization."

He picked up and opened his cellular phone and dialed. After a moment, he said, "Griffin has joined Ms Blaisdell as a hostage. Because of your lack of good faith, I am moving up the deadline. You will get me that disk in one hour. Bring it to the D'Amboise farm. You come alone." He listened to the voice at the other end and then, "All right, two hours, but no later!"

He closed the phone and turned to one of his men. "The old man says he can't get here that fast-he has to walk, and his old bones don't move well." He gave a sharp, nasty laugh, "Well, he won't have to worry about that after tonight."

Kelly whimpered at that, but quickly calmed down and started playing with her hair.

Kermit was flexing his fingers and moving his arms within the limits of his bindings, trying to improve the circulation enough for his next task. Kelly's hand movement arrested his own activity. What on earth is that girl doing? Her hair should be the last thing… Well, what do you know!

She must have had her hair in some kind of braid, because, where the hair had previously appeared to be short, it was now quite long. In her hand he could just see something glitter-not large enough to be a knife. He watched her move her hands into her lap, work her new tool around the rope, and begin to saw. Now where did she get a knife-edged chain?

He left her to her work and continued his efforts. His fingers responded quickly to the exercise and soon he had worked his own chain blade from his shirt's cuff and was working on his own ropes. When Kelly finished severing the ropes about her hands--a long, tedious job--she worked herself to the opening of the stall. Then she started to work on the ropes tethering Kermit's feet. Harrison's men ignored them. Thinking the prisoners safely secured, the men relaxed with their magazines.

Harrison, however, seemed to need to gloat; and he wanted Kermit Griffin for an audience. He plopped into the chair by the monitor and put his feet up. Every once in a while, he would glance toward the dangling hostage, as if to verify his audience was paying attention. If he had really looked at Griffin, he would have noticed the movement of his hands, working on the ropes, and he would have noticed the Kelly's new position. However, Harrison was only seeing the realization of his goal--the attainment of the disk and the information on it.

"Griffin, you're even stupider than I figured. You thought you could spirit my hostage away so I couldn't trade her for the disk. That disk is mine. I paid that cow Rogres good money to get that data."

He paused to look in Kermit's direction. "Did you know? No, there's no way you could… I introduced Rogres to the Cooper and Stiles brats. Papa Stiles remembered me from way back and contacted me when the kids wanted to hire a mercenary. I knew this was a golden opportunity. They wanted to hurt Blaisdell, to repay him for jailing their fathers. They just didn't know where he'd run. I'd suspected for years that he was involved in something that the Government didn't know about. He worked just too hard to cover his tracks for too many of his disappearances. This was my chance to find out where he was going.

"Those fools wanted to wreak their vengeance on him right after he left. I persuaded them to wait a while. Make a bigger impact on him! Like I cared. But it gave me time to gather the information I wanted. It took a few months to find him-a chance sighting in Oslo by a friend of mine. I sent Rogres there with instructions to follow him and record every place he went and everybody he exchanged anything with."

"Sounds like an expensive project." Kermit had suspected someone other than Jeff Stiles and Terri Cooper of ordering the trailing of his mentor and friend.

"Well, the arms trade was going well and, if I was right, which I was, I could turn a very big profit on the sale of the information she'd gathered."

"You haven't got the file, you haven't seen the file; how do you know you're right?" If Harrison was going to gloat, Kermit was going to prod.

"Rogres contacted me once a month and gave me a quick brief on where she'd been. A few times she mentioned that she'd been recognized by the person Blaisdell had met and had to kill them. Fucking stupid bitch! When she said who she'd killed, I could have killed her. Several countries would have paid her or me a nice bundle to remove them. And she did it for nothing.

"So I knew where he'd been going. And it was a nice, juicy secret." He started to say more about the information but realized how many were listening and changed direction. "She and I were to meet at a bistro in St. Sloan--she was going to give me the disk with the file. She never got there. Do you know why?" Until now, his tone had been pleasant, almost as if he were lecturing; but the memory had triggered his anger.

He jumped up and stomped over to where Griffin hung. The hostage stopped his work on the ropes and stared down at his now-angry captor. He hasn't seen Kelly, can I keep him from realizing she's moved?

Harrison glared up at Kermit, "Do you?"

His captive grinned down, "Oh, yeah."

That shook Harrison; he hadn't expected an answer. "Are you going to share that information?"

"Sure, why not? I think it's a great example of stupidity in the common criminal." Griffin was able to smile at Harrison only because Griffin wanted to annoy Harrison as much as possible. The memory of Rogres' partner telling him of the circumstances of Rogres' death triggered again his own very painful memory--of the partner torturing him for the location of the same disk for which Harrison held him and Kelly. "The mercenary you told those brats to hire shot Blaisdell to make it easier to capture him. But instead of just winging him, she severely injured him and he fell, hitting his head--hard enough to kill him. Jeff Stiles was meeting her there to help transport Blaisdell once he was caught. When Stiles saw his prize fall, he killed Rogres for killing their mark instead of winging him. Such intelligent people you deal with!"

Harrison stared at Griffin for a moment and then turned and plopped back into the chair. "I figured they were such idiots they wouldn't get in our way. Instead, they wasted my grubstake and another damn year. Well, I'll have it soon enough and I'll have my investment back and plenty more." He settled back in the chair, picked up a book--on Lenin, Kermit thought; he could only see part of the title--and began to read.

"If you knew where it was, why didn't you just take it?" Yes, Kermit was curious, but keeping Harrison's attention away from the monitor might make it easier for whoever was coming with Matthew to sneak in.

The words just floated on the air between them for a while as Harrison continued to read. Kermit was starting to search for another topic to rouse his captor's interest when Harrison slammed the book closed and dropped it on the table. Kermit had just enough time to move his hands to hide his tool before Harrison looked up at him.

"You think I would have gone through all this if I knew where it was? Yes, I knew it had to be somewhere in the area--Rogres only told me she was coming to this province. I couldn't search every single building in every single town and village!" Harrison jumped up, and started to pace. "I wanted that disk! But I couldn't stay here; I had other responsibilities--commissions to honor."

Griffin chuckled ironically. "Sure, commissions." You mean buying and selling arms!"

The other man paused and aimed his finger at his dangling hostage as if the finger were a gun, "You sold arms! Don't play holier-than-thou with me, Kermit Griffin."

"I cared who got them--you only care who can pay the most. I don't need to play holy--you're the one who strung me up like a Christmas angel." Kermit moved his elbows up and down slightly, as if trying to flap them like wings. Any more motion than that, and the rope around his wrists might have parted and ruined the surprise.

"Angel? You? Never!" The man barked a quick laugh and then turned back toward his chair. He picked up his book, but put it back down and continued his story. "I let it go for a few months, figuring that whoever found the disk wouldn't know what they had. But I did want that data--I'd paid Rogres a lot of money to gather it and didn't want to lose it. So after a while, I figured maybe if I posted various messages on the Internet I might cause the disk to appear."

As he spoke, he stood and wandered toward the corner of the barn to the right of the main door. A small table had been set up against the wall with typical camping accouterments-a large cooler and a thermos. Harrison poured some brown liquid from the thermos--it had to be coffee--into a paper cup, added milk from the cooler, and returned to the computer table and his chair. He leaned back against the table and continued. "It seemed like a clever idea at the time. I posed as a buyer in some messages, and the seller in the others. At the least, I thought my offer to buy would get somebody who knew where the disk was to steal it and sell to me."

"And no one bit. So you wasted how many months on that ploy?" Ah, Kermit thought to himself, Well, I was close.

"No one bit. But, I did finally find out it was in this village, just a few days ago. One of the thugs hired by Rogres' partner was in the room when she was interrogating you. Apparently, sometime last week my contact was visiting him in jail. The man just happened to mention to my contact that he had just remembered something you said, dear boy, about a disk being in Ste. Adele. Upon closer questioning, he did remember hearing a name mentioned, too, but it seems he died before he could recall it. You must have had a higher tolerance to that drug then he did."

Shit! I'd rather have been wrong about that! He had had a vague fear that he had spewed that datum about Matthew having the disk during that interrogation; he was not happy to hear the fear verified, but not surprised.

Harrison took a sip from his cup and spit it out. "Shit! This is cold." He strode quickly back to the thermos, checked the temperature of the remaining contents, and stomped over to the table where his men were playing cards. He threw his coffee across the cards on the table and threw the cup into the puddle. "Who's the idiot who didn't put the top back on the thermos properly? Clean up this mess!"

Harrison went again to the table where he poured himself a cup of water from a water jug in the cooler and gulped it down, washing out the taste of the cold coffee. Then he went back to the computer table and sat. He said, almost apologetically, "I'd offer you some refreshments, but as you can see, we don't have much here. My men do most of their eating in town, and they bring me what I need-an extra meal for a sick relative. Can't show my face too often--who knows who else is watching…

"Anyhow, I had my men posted in the town to see if anyone familiar showed up. Who shows up, but the young Miss Blaisdell here, and then you. So here we are."

Griffin mentally kicked himself, Why did I bother with the disguise? Did I fool anyone? Inserting only mild curiosity into his voice, he asked, "Since you knew she was here, you knew where she staying. Why did you send her mother the ransom note?" This had puzzled Kermit more than Harrison's presence.

Kelly was horrified. "You sent my mother the ransom note? Not Annie, or Matthew?" Her birth mother had always been a part of her life, but more as an ancillary relative; why did this man think Laura's voice would have persuaded Matthew, if Annie's didn't--assuming any persuasion was necessary?

She got a warning look from her captor, but also an answer. "I was always curious about his second wife, especially with her being blind. Perhaps he wanted someone who would be dependent on him, instead of an independent bitch like his first wife? I just thought two hysterical women would be more of an influence, just in case this Matthew didn't want to give up the file." Harrison was caught up in the story and didn't realize Kelly was at the front rather than the back of the stall.

Kelly and Kermit shared a quick glance and an inward laugh at that. If anything, Annie was stronger-willed than Laura. The two women were probably sharing memories--worried, yes; but hysterical? No!.

The computer beeped to alert them that someone was approaching the area; all attention turned and Harrison's guards sprang to full alert.

Matthew hobbled into the yard, leaning heavily on his cane, and stopped. One of Harrison's men opened the door and Matthew stepped into the barn. "I have the disk. Release my friends." His voice was as rickety as his appearance. He pulled the object from his side pocket, walked over to the table with the monitor, and set the disk down.

Harrison grabbed it and inserted it into the disk drive. Absently he said, "Not yet. I need to verify it's what I want." He typed for a few moments and then turned angrily, not to Matthew, but to Kermit. "Rogres said my software could read it easily. But this file is encrypted! How am I supposed to read it?"

He stalked over to the hanging mercenary and poked him in the stomach several times. "Another of your games, Kermit? You are the most aggravating insect!"

"Frog, Harrison, frog." Kermit was doing a good job of appearing to enjoy his 'elevated' status. He succeeded in rousing the ire in his captor, but only temporarily.

Harrison's face suddenly turned from angry red to a happy rose-color. "Griffin, I was going to just shoot you before I left with this information, but you've given me an excuse to do what I've wanted to do for a very long time. You and your smart-ass mouth have been a pain in the ass for too long. I'm going to wipe that smirk off your mouth and watch you dissolve."

He turned and pointed to one of his men. "You, get me that large brown bag from the car." He turned back to Griffin. "I never travel without my special bag…never know when I'm going to need it. He looked at the suspended hostage. "I want the key to the code and you're going to give it to me."

The two hostages and Matthew were all focused on the speaker--Kelly and the old man in horror, Kermit without expression. Harrison turned briefly toward the young woman and then back to Kermit. "I could start with her, but you'd break too quickly. I want to have the fun of hurting you first!"

Harrison's man brought in the brown bag and placed it next to Harrison. Another of his men placed a table near him and then Harrison emptied the bag.

Kermit was working on an appropriately inappropriate wisecrack while Harrison unpacked the bag. He had expected this--which didn't mean he wanted it. He could not appear frightened, could not…. Would not!

He had forgotten about Kelly. She watched with wide eyes as Harrison removed the contents: scalpels, knives, syringes, and small cases of things--she was trying to not speculate what those were. She felt an enormous pressure building in her, realized it was panic, and tried to control it. She was a Blaisdell--she would not panic, would not… She lost the fight. She was suddenly screaming, not even knowing it was her voice.

"Stop it! Stop it! I'll tell you! I'll tell you."

Now all eyes were on her. Matthew hobbled quickly over to her, moving to intercept Harrison. Griffin started to tell her to hush, to tell Harrison to ignore her. Harrison ignored him. Torturing Kermit was only an added dessert; retrieving the information on the disk was why he was here. If the girl could tell him… Well, he could always play with Kermit later, before he killed his three guests. "What will you tell me? Huh? What do you know?" He reached to grab her, to shake her, but the old man stopped him. Harrison was still on a high from thoughts about what he was going to do to Griffin-he did not feel the steel in the old man's grasp. He ordered her, "Tell me what you know!"

"The password," she cried, "I know the password! Leave him alone, just leave him alone!"

Harrison wanted to physically pull the words from her throat, but he could not get past the wall that was the old man. He was too excited to think about the obstacle. He looked like he was running on a treadmill, pumping but going nowhere. "How could you know it? Why would he tell you?" He still wanted to hurt Griffin.

Kelly was sobbing with relief at her success in diverting the villain. Her words were almost unintelligible amid the sobs. "He doesn't know I know. He was working on it last night when I brought him a tray. He had written it out and I saw it. "It's 'saintcrispinsday' with no space or apostrophe."

Harrison ran over to his computer and quickly typed in the phrase. It didn't work. Ready to accuse her, he turned around.

Before he could say a word, Kermit spoke, "Stupid idiot! All lowercase! You put caps in, right?"

Harrison looked at him in disbelief.

"You were right about that. I wouldn't have let you harm her. I may be a frog, but you're the only animal here--you and your gang, that is."

Harrison snorted and returned to his work. This time it was obvious to the entire room that it had worked. The man was almost bouncing with joy. "I knew he was up to something! I knew it! I don't care if he's dead. I still came out ahead."

He scrolled through several pages of the file, occasionally stopping to remark on a name. Finally, satisfied he had what he wanted, he turned back to his three guests. "This is even better than I expected!" He picked up Kermit's gun from the table and turned to his men. "We're done here. Pack up and get ready to go. I'll take care of these three."

He started toward the three and stopped in surprise. Matthew had straightened up and dropped many of his years. It was Kwai Chang Caine. He just grabbed Griffin and gave him a sudden jerk. The ties that bound Kermit snapped.

Before Harrison could react, Kermit was on top of him. All the negative emotions Griffin had kept tightly wrapped while a captive now provided fuel for his attack. His first strike knocked the other man against the table; the second drew blood. Sid Harrison swung once, in blind retaliation. The blow missed; Griffin's did not. Griffin's third punch slammed Harrison's head against the monitor and knocked him out. Kwai Chang Caine stopped his next blow mid-air.

Griffin's rhythm was barely interrupted. His other fist was already moving, now toward the man whom he saw, in his blind rage, as a new assailant - the man who had stopped his fist. Kwai Chang blocked the next three blows, patiently waiting for Kermit to come to his senses, and then returned to Kelly's side.

Gradually, Kermit heard noises around him, then he felt Caine release his fist, finally he recognized the sounds of several fights gradually coming to a close. He looked around to find Martin and what had to be fellow Interpol agents putting handcuffs on Harrison's men. They must have charged in while he was pummeling Harrison. Kermit could see Kwai Chang Caine comforting Kelly. Harrison was lying across the computer, dripping blood onto the keyboard.

Most of his anger gone, Griffin now felt the strain of being suspended so long. His arm and leg muscles hurt--no, his entire body hurt. The falls on the hill, the scuffle outside, the punishment from Harrison-he would feel them all for several days.

He limped slowly over to Caine and Kelly. "That was clever, pretending to be your father. I suspect either Harrison never heard his last name, or hasn't heard of your family. But I really want to know how Martin and his men got here without triggering Harrison's alarm." He sagged against the pole that supported the stall door, "No. Let me guess. There's another entrance to the cave here. Why couldn't you let me use that? I would have had a better chance of getting Kelly out of here."

"No, you would not. And besides, then Harrison would have known of the entrance, and the cave. It was necessary."

"Yeah, sure. Well, let's tie up Harrison and get out of here."

But Harrison was gone. When they checked, the disk was gone, too. Griffin cursed his own carelessness, Harrison's lineage, and Bradshaw's incompetence. Even Caine looked disturbed at the loss.

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